Category Archives: Christian Metaphysics

Our Identification With Christ

We live in a time when too many Christians treat Jesus like a historical figure trapped in the pages of an old book—as if His ministry was a one-and-done spectacle for the crowds in Galilee. But Scripture paints a far different picture: one where our connection to Him is so profound, so ontologically woven into the fabric of reality, that when God looks at us, He sees the exalted Christ. “God did all this to give us unshakable confidence to ask and receive, by showing us how intellectually, relationally, and ontologically we are identified with Jesus” (S.T., page 654). This isn’t some feel-good theology; it’s the bedrock of how we operate in ministry today. Because we’re united with Him—not the earthly Jesus under the law, but the resurrected King pouring out His Spirit—we do the works He did, and even greater, in the same power. Let’s unpack this, drawing straight from God’s Word, and expose the faith-bumblers who’d rather limit God than let Him loose. Limiting God is like trying to cage a cosmic supernova—spoiler: it doesn’t end well for the cage.

Consider the closeness Scripture describes between Jesus and His body, the church. It’s not a loose association, like distant relatives at a family reunion. No, it’s as intimate as a head to its limbs—where the head goes, the arms follow; what empowers one, surges through the other. Paul captures this in Ephesians 2:6, declaring that God “raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” Think about that: right now, in God’s sovereign mind, you’re not scraping by down here; you’re enthroned above every principality, every sickness, every obstacle. This identification means that when God sees you, He sees Jesus. God thinks that right now, I am seated with Jesus in the heavenly places. As Jesus is, so am I in this world. The only reality is the reality that God’s Word creates and sustains. There is no other truth or reality. God thinks I am identified with Jesus, as part of Him. Would God deny Jesus a request? Of course not. Thus, God would not deny me a request, because in God’s mind He considers me as part of Jesus. If we miss this, we mock the gospel, trampling the finished work of Christ as if it left us half-redeemed—not identified with Jesus as part of His body—and limping along until heaven. Frankly, that’s not just bad theology; it’s a cosmic insult, like handing back a gift from the King because you prefer your old rags. Ouch—talk about a divine facepalm.

This union isn’t abstract metaphysics for theologians to debate in ivory towers. It is reality because reality is based on God’s thoughts and words. He considered the old Oshea to have died with Jesus, and a new created Oshea is defined as part of Jesus. By God merely thinking this about me is what creates, shapes, and upholds reality. You cannot get more reality than “God thinks so.” Thus, this has direct implications for ministry. Look at how Jesus Himself operated. In Luke 4:14-19, after His baptism, “Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee… He stood up to read… ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed.’” Here’s the key: Jesus, as a man born under the law (Galatians 4:4), didn’t rely on His divine nature for miracles. He ministered through the anointing of the Holy Spirit, just as Acts 10:38 confirms: “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power… healing all who were oppressed by the devil.” Even the Son of God modelled dependence on the Spirit’s power for healing, deliverance, and proclamation. Why? Because He was born under the law and operated miracles as a man would; by this, He was the forerunner showing the church how to operate as humans empowered by the Spirit. “Jesus came as a man, born under the law, and even ministered God’s power as a saint does—by the power of the Spirit” (p. 654). He wasn’t flexing inherent deity in isolation; He was demonstrating how Spirit-empowered humanity crushes Satan’s works. Picture Jesus as the ultimate tutorial video: “How to Wreck the Devil’s Plans in Three Easy Steps.”

Now, fast-forward to the ascension. Jesus doesn’t leave us orphaned or downgraded. Instead, He commands the disciples in Acts 1:4-8: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the Promise of the Father… for John truly baptized with water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit… But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me.” This isn’t optional equipment for apostles only—it’s the same Spirit, the same power, poured out on all believers for ministry. Peter echoes this in Acts 2:33, noting that the exalted Jesus “received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit” and poured it out. The result? The early church exploded with miracles, healings, and bold proclamation, far beyond what one man in one place could do. “After His resurrection, Jesus commanded the disciples not to minister or spread the news until they were clothed with the same power of the Spirit.” If Jesus needed the Spirit’s anointing to start His ministry, how much more do we? Yet some theologians act like this power fizzled out after the apostles, as if God got bored with miracles. That’s not cessationism; that’s Satanism, limiting the Holy One of Israel like the Israelites did in the wilderness (Psalm 78:41). God bored? As if the Creator of quantum physics and kittens runs out of ideas.

Jesus promised we’d do “greater works” than He did (John 14:12). Not because we’re superior, but because He’s now on the throne, multiplying His power through a global body. In His earthly ministry, He was localized; now, through us, His reach is exponential. “As great as it would be to be identified with Jesus under the law in His earthly miracle ministry, it is still a limitation, because what we have is greater. This is why Jesus promised we would do greater works!” Imagine: the same Spirit that rested on Jesus now rests on you, empowering you to command mountains (Mark 11:23), heal the sick (James 5:15), and cast out demons (Mark 16:17). It’s not arrogance; it’s obedience. Faith isn’t wishing; it’s assenting to God’s definition of reality. When you speak in Jesus’ name, reality bends because you’re so identified with Him that your decree carries His authority. This is true and it is reality because God’s sovereign mind thinks so.

Satan trembles at this, which is why he peddles doctrines that sideline the Spirit—calling miracles “for then, not now,” or faith “presumptuous.” But as Vincent Cheung might say, such views are just human pride masquerading as piety. Critics will cry, “But we’re not Jesus!” Exactly the point—we’re better off now, identified with the glorified One. Paul warns in 2 Corinthians 5:16, “From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer.” If you evaluate Jesus—or yourself—from a human viewpoint, you’ll cap God’s power at what your carnal senses perceive. You’ll pray timidly, heal sporadically, and witness anemically. But embrace your union: you’re a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17), co-heir with Christ (Romans 8:17), partaker of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). This means ministry isn’t imitation; it’s reality based on how God’s sovereign mind thinks about His own creation. Heal like Jesus did—lay hands, command sickness to flee—because the Spirit’s power flows through you as it did Him. Preach with authority, knowing demons flee at His name through your lips. And yes, expect greater: more salvations, more miracles, across more territory. “The power of the Spirit is so contested by many… When Jesus on His throne becomes central, the baptism of the Spirit for power becomes central” (S.T., page 399).

The same Spirit who empowers also convicts of sin (John 16:8). But what was the sin the Spirit comes to convict the world of? All? No. The Spirit’s ministry is to convict the world of the sin of unbelief—because they do not believe in Jesus. They do not believe He is God’s Son. And because they do not believe He is God’s Son, they do not believe the things He preached and did. What are some things Jesus said? “Jesus answered, ‘Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, “Go, throw yourself into the sea,” and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours’” (Mark 11:23-24). The Spirit comes to convict us of the greatest sin, which started with Satan’s temptation to Eve: “Did God really say?” It is the sin that leads and opens the door to all other sins. It is the defining sin of the faithless; they refuse to believe God and they refuse to believe Jesus Christ.

Unbelief stopped Jesus in Nazareth (Mark 6:5-6), not besetting sins and not Satan. If sickness lingers or prayers seem unanswered, it’s not God’s will changing—it’s our faith needing sharpening, or perhaps a fresh infilling of the Spirit’s power. Pray in the Spirit (Jude 1:20), building yourself up in God’s love. “Sickness is Satan’s victory lap. Jesus did not just patch up boo-boos; He threw haymakers at the devil’s disease factory” (Systematic Theology, page 648). Join the fight; wield the power. Because who doesn’t love a good spiritual smackdown?

Look at how Jesus kicked off His Galilean ministry in Luke 4:14-15—He returned “in the power of the Spirit,” and suddenly news spread like wildfire, with Him teaching in synagogues and getting glorified by everyone. This isn’t some vague spiritual high; it’s raw, divine dynamite exploding into action. Jesus, as a man born under the law, didn’t launch His world-shaking work until after His baptism, when the Spirit descended like a dove and empowered Him to heal, cast out demons, and preach with authority that left jaws on the floor. The Holy Spirit wasn’t just tagging along; He was the engine, turning Jesus’ steps into a kingdom invasion that demolished Satan’s strongholds. And here’s the kicker—Jesus didn’t hog this power. In Acts 1:8, He promises His followers the same deal: “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you,” turning ordinary folks into unstoppable witnesses from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth. This isn’t optional fluff; it’s the blueprint for Christian life. If we’re co-heirs with Christ, why settle for powerless piety when the Spirit’s ready to supercharge us for miracles and bold proclamation? God’s not stingy—He’s lavishing this power on anyone hungry enough to receive it. Without the Spirit’s baptism, we’re just playing church while the devil throws a party.

The faithless treat this power like an ancient relic gathering dust in some theological museum, when Scripture screams it’s for now. Jesus returned in the Spirit’s power after fasting and facing down Satan, emerging not weakened but weaponized for ministry—teaching that silenced critics and healings that restored the broken. That same Spirit, poured out at Pentecost, isn’t a one-time fireworks show; it’s the ongoing promise for Abraham’s kids through faith (Galatians 3:14). When Acts 1:8 hits, it’s Jesus saying, “Wait for the download—then go conquer.” This power isn’t about flashy showmanship; it’s God’s sovereignty flexing through us, making the impossible routine. Think about it: if Jesus needed the Spirit’s anointing to crush the devil’s works (Acts 10:38), how much more do we? Yet, some peddle a gutless gospel, ignoring this dynamite because it messes with their unbelief. Nah, the Spirit’s power is our birthright—grab it, and watch reality bend as we advance the kingdom, just like our Lord did. Anything less is selling short the God who turns water-walkers into world-changers. Pro tip: Don’t be the guy who brings a squirt gun to a divine water fight.

In closing, our identification with Christ isn’t a doctrine to shelve; it’s dynamite for daily living. Because we’re one with Him, we minister in the same way—Spirit-anointed, faith-fueled—and with the same power, only amplified. Don’t know Him from a human viewpoint anymore; know Him as the enthroned Lord, and yourself as seated there too. Speak to storms, sickness, and souls; watch heaven invade earth. If that sounds radical, then it exposes that your heart is hard. As Scripture says regarding the disciples’ surprise at Jesus’ miracles: they were surprised “because they did not consider the loaves.” Jesus expected them to extrapolate the miracle of multiplication of material substance to be a regular activity. Their inability to see miracles as common and regular indicated their hearts were as hard as stone. Let us cast off any stony parts of our hearts and put on a heart of faith and the Spirit. Miracles, the Spirit, and healing are the gospel. And if critics scoff, well, they’re just cheering for the wrong team in this cosmic showdown. Don’t wash your hands with them, unless you wish to partake of their judgment.

Seeing Jesus Is Seeing The Father

John 14:9 “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”

This is not a warm fuzzy or a theological footnote; it is the hinge on which everything turns. It is seeing God. It is God. Because this is God, you cannot get more God centered than God. Every step Jesus took, every command He barked at disease, every miracle that left crowds speechless; these are the Father’s fingerprints. When you read the Gospels’ testimony of what Jesus did, two things dominate the record more than His sermons: healing the sick and working miracles. That is not coincidence. That is revelation. When you see Jesus healing and providing miracles more than sermons, you see God. You get a revelation about who God is. Buckle your seat belt, because it doesn’t get more God centered than this.

God is a healer by nature, not by contract or mood swing. Jesus healing, and healing and healing shows us God. To claim He will not heal when we ask is to call the Son a liar and to deny that seeing Him is seeing the Father. Jesus always healed, despite all those people having their own sins. He still healed them all. He spent more time restoring bodies than expounding parables. That is Jesus. Because that is Jesus, that is the Father.

As Vincent Cheung said in the essay, “Healing and God’s Nature,”

“No one insists that a man must hear the gospel only from someone who carries a gift of evangelism. The gospel carries power by its own divine content, because it reveals the nature and work of God in Christ. Likewise, healing does not wait upon the presence of some charismatic specialist, nor does it depend on the operation of revelatory signs to prove Scripture. It belongs to the same redemptive reality as the forgiveness of sins. The Lord is the healer, as much as he is the savior, judge, or provider. He acts from who he is. God does not work justice only when there is new revelation that he must authenticate. Justice is who he is. And God does not provide only when it is tied to some special promise or covenant. He revealed himself as the Lord who provides and who gives the power to get wealth. Prosperity is who he is. He is not made to become something he is not by a covenant. These are expressions of his very being. He is the one who is, before all covenants and promises, and what he is cannot be canceled by human tradition or theological deceit.”

Look at the Gospels. Luke 4:18-19 is Jesus’ mission statement—preaching good news, liberty to captives, sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed. Then the text explodes: demons flee, fevers vanish, lepers are cleansed, the dead stand up. He could have camped in synagogues dissecting doctrine, but He moved from village to village, touching the untouchable, commanding paralysis to pack its bags. Why the obsession? Jesus was showing us the Father. “If you see me, you see the Father.” Satan victimizes through sickness (Acts 10:38), but the Father counters with healing and miracles. Every restored body is the Father dismantling the devil’s work.

If healing were optional, Jesus wasted daylight; but since it is central to God being God, those miracles were the message. Because the message comes from God and healing is God, the message is about healing, and so, a few signs will be used to authenticate this message, which is about healing. If the gospel message is brimming with promises of physical healing, deliverance from oppression, and the unleashing of resurrected power through faith, then how on earth does it make sense to say the signs pointing to that message deliver more substance than the message itself? It’s like advertising a feast with mouthwatering samples, only to serve up empty plates at the main event. The authentication would end up wielding more power than the finished atonement or even Jesus Himself, seated in glory at the Father’s right hand. The pointer becomes mightier than the pointed-to finished gospel, and the king’s banner, greater than the king himself. If the healing authenticating miracles promised healing but the finished product withholds it, we’re left with a gospel that’s all sizzle and no steak—a cruel joke that only Satan could have conceived. (And this is beside the point that Abraham’s gospel and Jesus’ atonement makes such reasoning a fallacy of composition.)

God revealed Himself as “The Lord who Heals you,” Exodus 15:26. In this verse, God reveals Himself as the Healer to the Israelites after they experienced bitter water at Marah, promising to keep them from the diseases of the Egyptians if they obey His commandments. It was directly and originally about physical healing, not some mystical spiritual healing. He is the God who heals you. God is healer, as God is the Word, or God is Love, or God is Power. Healing is who God is.

This flows straight from the atonement. Isaiah 53:4-5 is blunt: “Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… by his wounds we are healed.” Matthew 8:17 nails this as physical healing to Jesus’ ministry—He carried sickness the same way He carried sin. In the substitutionary atonement, Jesus took 39 stripes in exchange for my healing. It is already done. In the Father’s mind, my sicknesses were lifted off me and laid on Him. James 5:15 leaves no wiggle room: “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.” No asterisks, no divine maybe; just faith cashing the check already signed in blood. To treat healing as a lottery ticket is to mock the stripes. If the Father went to that length, calling it optional is like inheriting a palace and sleeping on the curb. It is not humility; it is unbelief.

Now layer on the Abrahamic promise. Galatians 3 grafts me in: “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” God swore to Abraham fame, wealth, health, supernatural favor (Genesis 12:2-3). Through Jesus, I inherit the whole package. The blessing of Abraham, which I have today through Jesus, includes the baptism of the Spirit and healing. Healing, long and strong life, the Spirit and miracles is part of the ancient promise of God. Jesus invoked it when He freed the woman bent double for eighteen years: “Should not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has kept bound… be set free?” (Luke 13:16). It was necessary because the Father keeps covenants. Deny healing and you orphan yourself from the inheritance.

Satan’ disciples love to murmur doubt where Scripture roars certainty. They say miracles faded, healing is rare, but suffering is noble. That is the same spirit that blocked Jesus in Nazareth (Mark 6:5-6). We call it what it is: Sickness is Satan’s glory; sickness is not God’s glory. Healing is God’s glory. Accepting illness as “God’s plan” hands the devil a trophy Jesus already crushed. The Father is not glorified in my pain; He is exalted when faith claims the healing His Son bled for.

If seeing Jesus is seeing the Father, then the Father is the ultimate Healer, pouring restoration like water on dry ground. Through the atonement He swapped my broken body for healed body; through Abraham’s promise He guarantees ongoing favor. Faith is not begging; it is agreeing with His yes. The Bible assumes I need miracle power, healing, and prophecy to finish strong. Jesus spent His ministry healing more than preaching. Who am I to reverse the ratio? Thus, God is healer.

Look at the crowds pressing in—multitudes dragging their broken on mats, in arms, on hope alone—and Jesus does not give pop quizzes about sin. He heals. All of them. Matthew 4:23-24 is brutal in its simplicity: teaching, proclaiming, healing every disease and sickness. No exceptions, no “sometimes,” no “if it’s My will.” Despite all these people’s sins, Jesus healed them all. All of them. This is Jesus. This is the Father. Seeing Jesus is seeing the Father, and Jesus did not give false advertisement about the Father when He healed all of them.

If seeing the Son is seeing the Father, then the Father’s default posture toward my body is restoration, not resignation. Anything less accuses the Son of false advertising and the Father of bait-and-switch. We refuse. The same hands that shaped galaxies touched blind eyes and watched them track light. That is my God.

Flip the page to Mark 1:34—He healed many, but the “many” is not a ceiling; it is the floor of a day already crammed with preaching and exorcism. Time ran out, not power. The next morning He is gone before dawn, praying, because more towns wait with more sick. Preaching is vital, but healing is God being God; healing is God being faithful to His Promise, and healing is the kingdom breaking in.

Jesus spent more time healing than preaching because the Father is more eager to fix my body than to force me to hear another sermon about how broken it is. God is healer and so He tells me He can heal, and then He heals me. Devil dogmatics is about telling how sinful you are, and how weakened, and how sick you are from God’s curse because Adam sinned. The faithless love to tell you this, but they do not heal you. They do not remove the curse and cancer from your body. They do not remove sin conscience from the mind. They do not remove the pain in your bones. That is what we call a Devil Twilight Zone, where God loses and Satan wins by stealing, hurting and killing you with sickness.

To pray “if it be Your will” over cancer is to stare at Jesus healing a leper and mutter, “Yeah, but maybe not.” That is not humility; it’s not even cessationism, that is satanism. The Father who thundered “Let there be light” still thunders “Be whole” through the stripes of His Son. The only biblical response is to obey God and get healed.

I do not need a covenant to force the Father into being a healer—He already is, eternally, unchangeably, and the covenant is merely His gracious way of locking that healing into my specific relationship with Him. The blood oath to Abraham and the stripes on Jesus do not manufacture a reluctant God; they reveal a God who has always conceived me, in predestination and election, in perfect health within His mind, and who now binds Himself by sworn promise so that even if I have weak faith, it has something concrete to hold on to. The contract is not the cause of His healing nature; His healing nature is the cause of the contract. God makes Himself my healing in promise and by blood not because He requires motivation—He is the motivation. God is healing, and so He delights to anchor my confidence in ink that cannot fade and wounds that have already closed. To treat the covenant as a mere legal loophole is to miss the heartbeat: the Father heals because that is who He is, and every stripe, every oath, every “by His wounds you are healed” is simply Him saying, “I am God, and therefore you are healed.”

If you have seen Jesus, who always healed, you have seen The Father. He always healed those stuffed with sin; Jesus did not ask them to even repent, but always healed all of them. Think about that. Jesus never made sin a block to healing, despite healing so many. It was never mentioned. We know the crowds were very sinful people because Jesus told the crowds they were sinful. And yet, Jesus healed all of them, without qualification. If they asked, they got healed. Every single time. There was no exception to this. If you have seen Jesus, you have seen the God of creation. You have seen the Father. There is no other God but this God.

Being Amazed at Miracles Means What?

Let’s cut to the chase: if miracles leave you slack-jawed and wide-eyed, like you’ve just seen a unicorn trot down Main Street, then something’s off. Jesus didn’t perform signs and wonders to dazzle us into awe-struck paralysis. He did them to to make the supernatural as commonplace as your morning coffee. But in Mark 6, we see the disciples fumbling this basic truth, and frankly, it’s a mirror for too many of us today. The text says they were “greatly amazed in themselves beyond measure, and marveled” after Jesus strolled on water and calmed the storm. Why? “For they had not understood about the loaves, because their heart was hardened.” Ouch. Being amazed at miracles isn’t a compliment—it’s a diagnosis of heart so hard it makes granite stone envious.

To unpack this, let’s rewind to the context. Right before this watery escapade, Jesus had just fed 5,000 men (plus women and kids, so we’re talking a small stadium crowd) with five loaves and two fish. The disciples were hands-on in that miracle—distributing the food, collecting leftovers. Twelve baskets full, a neat surplus symbolizing abundance for Israel’s tribes. You’d think that would stick. But no sooner do they hop in the boat, battling headwinds on the Sea of Galilee, than Jesus comes walking on the waves like it’s a paved sidewalk. He says, “Be of good cheer! It is I; do not be afraid.” He climbs aboard, the wind quits, and boom—amazement overload. Mark doesn’t mince words: their hearts were hardened, failing to connect the dots from the miracles of loaves to this latest display of divine miracles.

What’s a hardened heart, anyway? It’s not some mystical affliction; it’s unbelief dressed up in familiarity. The disciples saw Jesus multiply food out of thin air, yet when He tames the elements, they’re shocked. It’s like watching a master chef whip up a gourmet meal and then gasping when he boils water. Jesus expected them to graduate from that miracle to the next, extrapolating His power for consistent miracles when we ask in faith, not episodic.  A soft heart would have responded with, “Of course He can walk on water—He just turned a kid’s lunch into a feast!” But hardness creeps in when we compartmentalize God’s acts, treating them as one-offs rather than deducing them as norm of His kingdom. And let’s be frank: this isn’t just ancient history. How many Christians today pray for healing, get it, and then act surprised when provision shows up next? It’s as if we’ve got amnesia about God’s track record.

This ties straight into the bigger picture of faith. Scripture hammers home that miracles aren’t anomalies; they’re God’s standard operating procedure for believers. Think about it—Jesus said in John 14:12, “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father.” Greater than raising the dead? Calming storms? That’s the bar. But if your heart’s hardened, you’ll dismiss that as hyperbole or “for the apostles only.” Nonsense. The same Spirit that empowered Jesus empowers us, and He’s not stingy. Philippians 4:19—”My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” They are expected. Not because we are special, but because God’s word is God’s will. Being amazed? That’s for rookies. Expectation is for sons.

Now, don’t get me wrong—there’s a healthy wonder in worship, like Psalm 8’s awe at creation. We are to be filled with joy and happiness but not surprise or marvel that it happens. The amazement in Mark 6 is different; it’s mingled with fear and incomprehension, stemming from a failure to internalize prior revelations of miracles and answered prayers. Vincent Cheung nails this in his writings on faith: true belief integrates God’s acts into your worldview, making the miraculous mundane in the best way. If you’re constantly surprised by answered prayer, it’s a sign you’re not renewing your mind with the word (Romans 12:2). Hardened hearts resist transformation, clinging to natural explanations or low expectations. And here’s the witty kicker: Satan loves a hardened heart because it keeps you playing defense, reacting instead of reigning. Romans 5:17 says we “reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ.” Reigning means anticipating victory, not gasping at it.

Let’s drill deeper into the loaf connection. The feeding miracle wasn’t just about full bellies; it echoed manna in the wilderness, pointing to Jesus as the Bread of Life (John 6). The disciples missed that typology, so when Jesus dominates the sea—symbolizing chaos in Jewish thought—they’re floored. A soft heart would have seen continuity: the God who gives miracles in provision is the same God who protects with miracles. This is why Jesus often chided them with, “O you of little faith” (Matthew 8:26). Little faith isn’t no faith; it’s faith that’s mixed with unbelief and empiricism. Today, we harden our hearts with cessationist theology or prosperity-gospel Lite, where miracles are optional add-ons. But Scripture says otherwise. Acts is full of everyday believers laying hands on the sick, casting out demons—like it’s Tuesday. If that’s not your average, time to soften up that granite stone to be flesh again.

Practically speaking, how do we avoid this trap? Relentless focus on God’s promises, day and night, as Psalm 1 advises. When sickness hits, don’t marvel if healing comes—expect it because “by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Facing storms in life? Recall He who calmed the waves is in your boat. And if you’re thinking, “But Oshea, miracles aren’t that common,” that’s the hardness talking. Jesus expected them to be. In fact, He was frustrated when they weren’t understood.

This isn’t about manufacturing fake enthusiasm; it’s about alignment with reality. God’s kingdom is miraculous by definition. Ephesians 3:20 speaks of Him doing “exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think.” If that’s not your baseline, repent of the hardness.

Like Peter walking on water himself—until he looked away. Focus on Jesus, and miracles become normal walking, not spectacles. Focusing on the carnal sensations of what you see, hear, touch and feel, will tell you miracles is not the normal. What you see, feel and hear will turn your heart into stone. The word of God will turn it to flesh.

In wrapping this up, remember: being amazed at miracles signals a heard heart. We often want to point to a person in what we might categorize as an obvious sin, and say, they have a hard heart. Fair enough, but Jesus shows the knife is double edge and it cuts us by expound a hard heart is simply not expecting miracles as the average common thing in our lives.  Jesus wants us normalized to the supernatural, happy to receive but not stunned. When the wind ceases, you’ll nod knowingly, not gawk. That’s faith in action, and honestly, it’s way more fun than perpetual surprise.

But wait, there’s more to chew on. Consider how this hardened-heart syndrome infects modern church culture. Some celebrate testimonies as if they’re anomalies, clapping wildly for what should be routine. “God healed my headache!” Cue the applause. But Jesus fed thousands and expected His followers to top it. If we’re not seeing that level, it’s not God’s fault—it’s our unbelief. Mark 6:52 links the amazement directly to not understanding the loaves, implying comprehension breeds expectation of miracles.

This principle extends to all areas. Financial miracle? Expected. Relational restoration? Par for the course. Why? Because our God is unchanging, and His promises are yes in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). Hardness comes from worldly conditioning—news cycles of doom, skeptical friends, focus on how or bodies feel, or what the doctors say, or constant replaying of empiricism, or past disappointments.

Ultimately, Jesus’ rebuke-through-example calls us higher. Don’t be the disciples in the boat, mouths agape. Be the ones who say, “Of course”—and step out in faith. Miracles aren’t for amazement; they’re for our personal victories; our personal victories glorify God and advance His kingdom.

God Wrote Himself Into the Story

In the grand narrative of reality, God isn’t some distant playwright scribbling notes from afar; He’s the Author who boldly steps into His own story, revealing Himself not as a detached observer but as the central force of truth, logic, and unyielding sovereignty. This isn’t mere metaphor—it’s the bedrock of how we understand God’s control over all things, a control so absolute and direct that it eclipses every human notion of cause and effect.

Let’s begin with the chess analogy, which I first encountered in Vincent Cheung’s work, “There is No Real Synergism,” from his Sermonettes Vol. 1 (2010, Ch. 32). Imagine a high-stakes chess tournament. On the ultimate level, the player—let’s say Oshea—decides every move, positioning each piece with deliberate intent. God, in His sovereignty, is like that player, causing every event directly. For instance, God caused Oshea to believe and confess Jesus Christ as Lord, much like Oshea moves a white pawn to H3 to capture a black knight. There’s no autonomy in the pieces; they don’t twitch on their own. Yet, from the announcer’s booth, the commentary rings out: “White pawn takes black knight!” Should we scold the announcer for not acknowledging that the pawn didn’t move itself? Of course not. The announcer describes the relative level, where the action unfolds as if the pieces interact independently. In the same way, Scripture often speaks in relative terms: “Oshea buys some gum at the store from Johnny.” On this level, Oshea chooses, pays, and walks away satisfied, but ultimately, God orchestrated the entire exchange—predestining the desire, the funds, and even Johnny’s presence behind the counter. “God is absolutely and directly sovereign over all things, including knowledge, man, and salvation.” To confuse the levels is to stumble into defective metaphysics, where reprobates invent “synergism” as if man partners with God, when in truth, our every breath is His decree.

What about accountability? There’s no logical clash between sovereignty and responsibility— just distinct categories: metaphysical authorship by God, relative commands to us. Romans 9 shatters any doubt, showing accountability flows from sovereignty, not despite it. Induction guesses beyond premises, violating the law of non-contradiction, and empiricism starts with sensations rather than revelation, leading to a worldview that’s all smoke and no fire. Scripture never defines responsibility as autonomy from God; it defines it as answerability to His commands. We’re accountable because God revealed commands. In fact, our lack of control over His holding us accountable underscores His sovereignty— we can’t escape his commands any more than we can escape His decree. Romans 3:19: “The whole world [is] held accountable to God.” Not because we’re free agents, but because He’s sovereign and holds us to His commands.

The law of non-contradiction isn’t an invention of man but a descriptive label for the perpetual, unchanging motion within God’s intellect. It’s how the premises in His eternal system of thinking are invariably arranged, a constant ordering that reflects His immutable character. Picture it: God’s mind operates with such flawless consistency that to name this dynamic is to capture the essence of rational thought itself. Because this motion is eternally steadfast in Him, deviating from it in our own reasoning doesn’t just lead to error—it halts cognition altogether. We cease to think coherently; we stop being minds in the truest sense. God, in His essence, never affirms and denies the same proposition at the same time in the same respect. To do so would be to embrace absurdity, to become non-God, which is as impossible as light deciding to be darkness.

Why is this important? God is logic and God is truth. Thus, when God interacts with us in His story, we have absolute confidence He will do what He says.

Now, extend this to the novel analogy, where God’s sovereignty shines even brighter. Imagine God authoring a fantasy epic—not with borrowed concepts, for even our ideas of storytelling originate from Him, the eternal Mind who is truth incarnate. As the law of contradiction itself, God doesn’t pen illogical tales or weave deceptions; His narrative is coherent, immutable, and brimming with his own good purpose. The characters within don’t perceive the Author; they navigate their world of quests and conflicts, unaware of the hand that shapes their fates. But here’s the divine twist: God writes Himself into the story. He enters as the hero who proclaims life abundant, decrying Satan as the thief who steals, kills, and destroys (John 10:10). In a Contract sealed by His Son’s blood, He pledges unwavering good—fish for fish, healing for affliction, prosperity for lack. As High Priest, He ministers righteousness, the blessings of Abraham, and wholeness, relating to His insiders on terms of unmerited favor alone. Isaiah 54:15 captures this: “They will surely gather against you, but not by Me.” Though sovereign over all on the ultimate plane, God declares on the relative level that attacks aren’t His doing; He didn’t send you sickness; it’s the devil attacking you, not God. Because He is truth—the very structure of logic—we trust this self-revelation without shadow or shift.

Jesus has a priesthood, in a blood contract promises to only relate to us in certain ways. These ways are a savior, our Father, our healer, our wealth provider, our blessing of Abraham giver and so on. There is no other way God relates to insiders.

Satan, that counterfeit priest of darkness, peddles a ministry of sickness, poverty, and despair. If disease grips you or lack drains your spirit, it’s not the Author’s handiwork but the adversary’s sabotage. Its not Jesus’ priesthood that kills your body, robs your wealth and steals your joy. Yet, here’s where the frank rebuke lands: If you tolerate Satan’s priesthood of sickness, death and pain, without resistance, you’re complicit in the plot twist that glorifies the villain. Scripture commands, “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7 NIV), not “Endure his torments piously.” Faith-fumblers, those reprobate theologians who normalize suffering as “God’s will,” expose their defective ethics—they trample the atonement, siding with demons to undermine the blood of Christ.

But for the elect, the script flips: We’re predestined for triumph, baptized in the Spirit’s power as proof of our calling (Acts 2:38-39). Peter applied election this way, linking God’s sovereign summons to the outpouring of miraculous empowerment. Jesus amplified it: “You did not choose me, but I chose you… that whatever you ask in my name, the Father may give it to you” (John 15:16 NIV). Elected to receive whatever we ask? That’s no small print; it’s the bold headline of our destiny.

In this story, miracles aren’t optional extras—they’re scripted certainties for those who believe. The Author, stepping in, models faith that moves mountains (Mark 11:23), heals the sick, and commands reality to bow. We’re not passive readers; as new creations, we’re co-authors in the relative sense, wielding His name to enforce the plot. Doubt creeps in when we forget our role, confessing empiricism’s lies instead of God’s promises. “Your faith saved you,” Jesus declared repeatedly, tying forgiveness and healing to belief, not fate or feelings. Reprobates balk, focusing on human frailty, but we fix our eyes on Him—the God who’s really, really intelligent, for whom all things are possible, and who makes them possible for us through faith.

Think of the Israelites: Spies returned with an evil report, magnifying giants over God’s promise, and perished in unbelief (Numbers 13-14). Their failure wasn’t sovereignty’s fault but their refusal to align with the script. Today, cessationists and poverty preachers repeat the error, claiming miracles ceased or wealth corrupts, but that’s anti-logic superstition. Induction, that irrational guesswork, underpins their empiricism—observing “some” failures and concluding “all” impossibilities, violating the law of contradiction. Science? It’s built on the same fallacy, affirming the consequent without necessary connections. But God’s logic—deductive, unyielding—demands we start with His self-authenticating Word, deducing victory from promises like Galatians 3:13-14, where Christ redeems us from the curse for Abraham’s blessing, including the Spirit and miracles.

The Author’s presence changes everything. He’s here, looking you in the eye, affirming your scripted win. As insiders, we’re not victims of the plot; we’re victors, empowered to expand the kingdom. Baptism in the Spirit? It’s your election badge, unleashing power for greater works (John 14:12). Prosperity and healing? They’re yours by faith, not works—God supplies, we receive. If sickness lingers or lack persists, resist with confession: “By His stripes, I am healed” (Isaiah 53:5); “He gives me the ability to produce wealth” (Deuteronomy 8:18). Don’t let defective starting points—human speculation or superstition—derail you. The narrative arcs toward glory: “All things are yours” (1 Corinthians 3:21), judging angels, inheriting the world.

In closing, embrace the Author’s gaze. He’s scripted you for abundance, not affliction. Faith aligns you with His plot, turning potential defeat into resounding victory. The story ends with God boasting about you, for the gospel was predestined for your glory; and end return you’ll be a hero whose faith glorifies the ultimate Author. And if that sounds too good, remember: God’s not stingy; He’s sovereign, and He’s written you to win. Faith is the plot device that unlocks the abundance. In fact, faith is like “plot armor” that surrounds a hero, so that no matter what comes against him, he always finds a way out and always wins.

[1] This basic idea of God’s system of thinking always moving in the noncontradiction and how it is a human way to label this order or motion is something I read and got from Vincent Cheung.

[2] Also the basic idea of the categories of God’s command and His causality I learned from Vincent Cheung, including our responsibility being based on His command not causality. Although my thoughts were already in that general direction from Reading Romans 9 before read Vincent.

If You Knew – You would Ask

“If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water” (John 4:10).

This statement, uttered by Jesus to a Samaritan woman burdened by her past, encapsulates the essence of who God is and how humanity is designed to relate to Him. There is no other God but this one—the boundless supplier who gives without end—and no other way to engage Him but through the bold act of asking in faith, with the assurance that He will provide good things. Jesus doesn’t just teach these realities; He presupposes them, building His entire dialogue on their unassailable foundation.

In the narrative of John 4:1-42, where Jesus encounters the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, we find a profound revelation that cuts through cultural barriers and religious pretensions like a divine scalpel. This isn’t just a story about evangelism; though it does this. At its core, Jesus unveils two foundational truths about God and our relationship with Him, truths He both teaches explicitly and presupposes as the bedrock of reality. First, God is the ultimate wellspring, the rich supplier who pours out blessings upon us; we don’t supply Him, for He lacks nothing and gives everything good. Second, Jesus operates on the assumption that when a human stumbles upon God; the natural, immediate response should be to ask for those good things, with the certainty that God will deliver. These aren’t optional insights; they’re woven into the fabric of who God is and how He relates to us. This is similar to us seeing Jesus healing all those people in the gospels, and He says, “if you have seen Me, You have seen the Father.” This is how God is, and how He relates to us.

Consider the setting: Jesus, weary from travel, sits by the well at noon, a time when the heat drives most indoors. The Samaritan woman arrives, burdened not just by her water pot but by a life of relational wreckage—five husbands and now living with a sixth man who isn’t her husband. Jesus initiates the conversation by asking for a drink, flipping the script on who gives to whom. But here’s where the first point emerges with crystalline clarity. Jesus quickly pivots from physical water to “living water,” a metaphor for the eternal life and refreshment only He can provide. “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink,” He says in verse 10, “you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” Notice the emphasis: God is the giver, the supplier. The woman, intrigued but skeptical, points to the well’s depth and Jesus’ lack of a bucket, but He presses on, describing this living water as a spring welling up to eternal life. God isn’t depicted as a needy deity demanding our meager offerings; rather, He’s the inexhaustible source, rich beyond measure, who delights in supplying our deepest needs.

This presupposition about God’s nature aligns seamlessly with the broader biblical witness. God’s self-existence and immutability mean He lacks nothing; the One who creates all things by His Word, without depleting Himself. As Psalm 50:12 declares, “If I were hungry I would not tell you, for the world is mine, and all that is in it.” God doesn’t need our water pots or our rituals; we need Hi. How often do we reverse this; It’s a subtle idolatry, one that creeps into prayers where we “offer” God our service to buy things from God. But God’s goodness isn’t stingy; it’s lavish, as James 1:17 reminds us, every good and perfect gift coming down from the Father of lights, who doesn’t change like shifting shadows.

Building on this, the second point Jesus presupposes is the dynamic of our relationship with God: encounter Him, and the instinctive move is to ask boldly for good things, with the assurance they’ll be granted. The woman doesn’t fully grasp it at first; she’s fixated on literal water, asking in verse 15, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water. Jesus assumes that recognizing God, should lead to immediate asking, and that asking in faith yields results.  The presupposition is clear: God is eager to give, and faith receives.

This isn’t some isolated anomaly; it’s the pattern Jesus models throughout His ministry. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:7-11), He teaches, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” He presupposes a Father who gives good gifts to those who ask, contrasting Him with earthly parents who wouldn’t hand a snake instead of fish. Here at the well, Jesus lives this out, offering living water freely to a Samaritan outsider, no strings attached beyond recognition and request. The woman, despite her messy past, gets it quicker than many theologians today. She asks, and Jesus delivers; not just water, but revelation that sparks a revival in Sychar. Verses 39-42 show many Samaritans believing because of her testimony, culminating in their own confession: “We know that this man really is the Savior of the world.” Jesus presupposes a relationship where humans, frail and thirsty as we are, approach God not in groveling fear but in expectant faith, knowing He’ll supply abundantly.

Jesus assumes that upon recognizing God, the human response should be immediate and audacious—ask, and God will give good things. “If you knew,” He says, implying that true knowledge of God propels one to petition without hesitation. This dynamic presupposes faith as the primordial doctrine for God’s children: encounter Him, acknowledge your need, ask for good things, and receive. Jesus operates on the certainty that God, being good, responds affirmatively to such requests, much as a loving father gives bread for bread, not stones for bread, (Matthew 7:9-11). Jesus’ ministry reinforces this; from the centurion’s faith securing an instant healing to the promise in John 14:13-14 that whatever we ask in His name, He will do it. To relate to God differently, is to fabricate a false god.

There is no other God but this supplier of living water, and no other way to relate but through knowing, asking, and receiving. Faithless doctrines, like those peddled by cessationists or fatalists, God’s supply is rationed, miracles relegated to apostolic footnotes, but Jesus presupposes abundance for all who believe. This is the word of faith confession: affirm God’s promises, ask boldly, and reality bends. The Samaritan woman’s story rebukes our hesitations— she, an outsider with a checkered past, asks and receives, her faith igniting a harvest while the disciples fuss over lunch (verse 35).

In practical terms, this transforms our prayer life and worldview. If God is the rich supplier, we approach His throne of grace without fear, as co-heirs with Christ, demanding the blessings sworn in Abraham’s covenant—healing, prosperity, the Spirit’s power. Faith isn’t groveling; it’s the insider privilege, as angels marvel at our audacity to wrestle blessings like Jacob or command mountains like Jesus teaches. Frankly, if we’re not asking for good things—spiritual depth, physical healing, material provision—we’re relating to a counterfeit god, one who can’t or won’t give. But this God? He’s the only one who exists. Jesus presupposes if you can recognize Him as God, then your response is to open your mouth and ask for the biggest things you can thing of, like the baptism of the Spirit, eternal life and healing.  

Yet, let’s not overlook the subtle rebukes in this passage, for they mirror the defective starting points I critique in my theology. The woman’s initial focus on physical water and religious debates (verse 20) reflects humanity’s tendency toward superstition—seeking God in places or rituals rather than in spirit and truth (verse 24). Jesus presupposes a direct, asking relationship, bypassing such nonsense. The disciples’ astonishment at His conversation with a Samaritan woman exposes insider complacency, presupposing barriers where God sees free access to ask and receive. In our day, this challenges faith-fumblers who dilute prayer to “Thy will be done” as an excuse for unbelief, ignoring Jesus’ presupposition that God’s will is to give good things to those who ask in faith. As necessary as God’s nature is, are prayers on the demand of faith—anything less would make truth, false, or a circle a square.

Do we know this God, the supplier who gives without measure in healing, prosperity, deliverance and an abundance of life? The Samaritan woman’s legacy isn’t her past but her pivot to faith. And this is the greatest type of legacy; the legacy of faith.  Drop the fearful self-reliance, and recognize the Messiah is standing at the well. If you knew who God was, the first thing Jesus presupposes is that you would immediately start asking and God will start giving. There is no other God, and there is no other way to relate to this God. It is the way of faith.

The Faithless: God is non-God

When Scripture declares it’s impossible for God to lie (Hebrews 6:18), it’s not slapping a limitation on Him like some cosmic speed limit; rather, it’s positively affirming that He is truth incarnate, the Logic through whom all reality logically follows (John 1:1). This Logos isn’t some vague ideal—it’s the very Law of Non-Contradiction in divine personhood. The law of non-contradiction is simply naming a constant motion of God’s mind or describing how the premises in God’s system-of-thinking is always arranged in, and then giving a name to that constant motion or ordering. Because this motion is so constant in His own Mind, if we don’t follow that motion, then we stop thinking; we stop ceasing being a mind. Meaning God doesn’t affirm and deny the same thing simultaneously, to do otherwise is to be non-God. Because God is the law of noncontradiction, it means He is not anti-logic. Or to say it another way, because God is God, He is not non-God.

Also, His power isn’t a separate toolbox He dips into when the mood strikes; no, His choices and His omnipotence, are the same thing; they are perfect oneness. What He decrees isn’t a casual suggestion that might fizzle out—it’s as eternally binding and real as His own existence. That’s why in Romans 9:17, Paul personifies Scripture as directly confronting Pharaoh, when it was God who did so; thus scripture is regarded as God Himself. In Galatians 3:8, Scripture “foresaw” and “announced” the gospel to Abraham, when it was God who told those things. Frankly, to treat God’s word as anything less is like trying to separate the heat from the fire—you end up with neither.

Now, tether this to the prayer of faith for healing, and the necessity becomes glaringly obvious, almost comically so if it weren’t so profound. If God’s nature is necessary—meaning He must be truthful, logical, and all-powerful without contradiction—then His fulfillment of faith-filled prayers is equally non-negotiable. James 5:15 doesn’t hedge with “might” or “if it aligns with some mysterious plan”; it boldly states the prayer of faith will heal the sick, period. This flows straight from God’s self-sworn oath to Abraham, expanded in the New Covenant through Christ’s atonement, where Jesus bore our infirmities so we wouldn’t have to (Isaiah 53:4-5). To suggest otherwise—that God could promise healing on demand of faith but then withhold it—would make Him a cosmic bait-and-switch artist, violating His own non-contradictory nature. It would be the same as saying God is also non-God.  It’s the kind of theology that leaves folks limping along in unbelief, blaming “God’s will” when the real culprit is their own hesitation to grab hold of His word. But for those who get it, this necessity isn’t a burden; it’s liberation, turning every prayer into a direct line to the God who isn’t non-God.

Answered prayers aren’t some optional perk in the Christian life, like an extra scoop of ice cream on your sundae. No, they’re woven into the very fabric of who God is—His unchangeable nature, His unbreakable promises, and His absolute sovereignty. If God is truth, if He’s the Logos who spoke creation into being, then His word isn’t just reliable; it’s as necessary as His existence is necessary. Deny that, and you’re not just doubting prayer—you’re tinkering with the nature and existence of God Himself. And trust me, that’s a fool’s errand, like trying to outwit gravity while jumping off a cliff.

Take Luke 13:16, where Jesus heals a woman bent over for 18 years. He doesn’t frame it as a nice gesture or a sign to wow the crowd. Instead, He declares it “necessary” because she’s a daughter of Abraham. Necessary? That’s a strong word. It’s the kind of language you use for gravity pulling you down or the sun rising in the east. Why? Because God swore by Himself to Abraham—a promise of blessings that includes healing, prosperity, and miracles, as Galatians 3 spells out. God doesn’t make casual vows; He stakes His own name on them. Hebrews 6:13-18 drives this home: God swore by Himself since there’s no one greater, and it’s “impossible for God to lie.” His resolve is unchangeable, sealed with an oath. So, when Jesus heals her, it’s not optional—it’s God being faithful to His word, which is as integral to Him as His power, logic, infinity, immutability or eternity.

Now, picture this: God, the ultimate sovereign, predestines everything down to the last atom’s twitch. Yet, in His wisdom, He ties answered prayers to faith, making them a direct outflow of His nature. It’s not that our faith twists God’s arm. He relates to us on our level, so that faith unlocks what He’s already decreed. Jesus says in Mark 11:24, “Whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” That’s not hyperbole—it’s the blueprint. If God’s nature is truth, then His promises aren’t pie-in-the-sky wishes; they’re ironclad necessities. Deny answered prayers on demand of faith, and you’re saying God is also non-God, or affirming a square is a circle.

This ties into the broader theology of God’s sovereignty, which isn’t some cold, fatalistic machine but a personal, intellectual decree from a God who’s “really, really intelligent.” In Systematic Theology, we see that God’s decrees aren’t arbitrary; they’re the logic of His causality, flowing from His attributes like immutability and love. He hates sickness as much as sin because both stem from the Fall, and He’s sworn to crush them under the New Covenant. Jesus bore our infirmities (Isaiah 53:4-5, as Matthew 8:17 applies it), so healing isn’t a maybe—it’s a must when faith aligns with His promise. Cessationists might squirm here, arguing miracles were just to confirm the message, but that’s like saying the sun only shines to wake you up in the morning. No, miracles are part of Abraham’s blessing, ongoing and necessary because God’s oath doesn’t expire. To say God’s promise has expired is to say God has expired. God say God doesn’t heal on the demand of faith, because that has expired is to say God has expired. As Paul notes in Galatians 3, we’re grafted in, so the Spirit and miracles are our inheritance. To say otherwise is to call God, non-God.

Consider the flip side: unbelief blocks miracles, as Jesus “could not” do many in His hometown (Mark 6:5-6). Not “would not”—could not. Why? Because the way God sovereignly decides to relations to us in on the relative level; and on this level faith is how we relate back to Him. Thus, faith is “how” His power flows to us. It’s not limiting God; it’s honoring how He set up the system. If answered prayers weren’t necessary, Jesus wouldn’t have rebuked the disciples for their lack. In John 14:12-14, He promises believers will do greater works, asking anything in His name. It’s the necessity of God shining through us. Deny it, and you’re left with a gutted gospel—forgiveness without power, like a car without an engine. Amusing in theory, but useless on the road.

Hebrews reinforces this: God wants to show the “unchangeableness of His resolve” through answered prayers, giving us “powerful encouragement” (6:17-18). It’s not about us earning it; it’s about God being God. His nature demands He fulfill what He swore—blessings for the heirs, including healing on faith’s demand. James 5:15 echoes: the prayer of faith will heal the sick. Will, not might. That’s necessity baked in. If God is immutable, then His yes is yes (Matthew 5:37). To waffle on this is to embrace superstition, like those who twist “God’s will” into fatalism: “Pray, but whatever happens will sovereignly happens.”. That’s not sovereignty; that’s Eastern mysticism disguised as a Christian drag queen. God’s sovereignty is the same as His choices and the same as Him being the law of non-contradiction; thus His sovereign decrees are specific—like healing for faith—and delivers, without being contradictive.

In the end, answered prayers are as necessary as God’s nature is necessary. As a daughter or son of Abraham through Christ, claim it. God swore by Himself—He is true, He is the law of non-contradiction. So pray boldly, believe fiercely, and watch reality bend to His word. It’s not magic; it’s reality bowing faith. And if that sounds too good, remember: God’s goodness, is bigger than our doubts and it is bigger than reality.

The Logic of Necessity: God’s Oaths and Our Faith

Diving deeper, let’s unpack the logic. God’s promise to Abraham isn’t a vague nod; it’s a deductive powerhouse. Premise: God swears by Himself to bless Abraham’s seed (Genesis 22:16-18). Premise: We’re that seed through faith in Christ (Galatians 3:29). Conclusion: Blessings, including miracles and the Spirit, are ours. Hebrews 6 seals it: two unchangeable things—His promise and oath—make it impossible for God to deceive. Impossible. That’s the law of non-contradiction at work: God can’t be true and false simultaneously.

So, when Jesus says it’s “necessary” to heal Abraham’s daughter, He’s applying this logic. Satan’s bondage? Unacceptable under the oath. Faith releases it because God’s nature necessitates fulfillment. The faithless try to dodge—”that was then. Paul’s Galatians argument hammers it: miracles aren’t apostolic perks; they’re Abrahamic promises, post-cross. To sideline them is to sideline God’s integrity, immutability, eternality, infinity, sovereignty and logic.

Frankly, too many theologians play word games, diluting “necessary” to “maybe if God’s in the mood.” But Scripture’s frank: God’s mood is His word. He wants us healed, prosperous, empowered—more than we do. Remember the bible’s maximum, “All things are possible for people with faith.” Why? Because God’s nature makes it so. Deny answered prayers, and you’re denying the God who swore them into being.

Practical Punch: Living the Necessity

How do we live this? Start with confession: affirm God’s oaths as your reality. Psalm 103:2-3—He forgives all sins, heals all diseases. Not some; all. Pray with that necessity in mind. If doubt creeps, cry like the father in Mark 9: “Help my unbelief!” Jesus honored that—necessity met honesty with miracle.

In ethics, this means obedience: faith isn’t optional; it’s commanded. Resist Satan (James 4:7), heal the sick (Matthew 10:8). It’s not showboating; it’s aligning with God’s unchangeable resolve.

Ultimately, answered prayers glorify God, by affirming God is God.  They’re necessary because He is. The faithless unanswered prayer doctrine affirm God is non-God.

Identified with the Resurrected Christ, Not the Earthly Jesus

Posted: August 25, 2025 

I want to hammer home a truth from 2 Corinthians 5:16-17 on how we see ourselves in Christ. Paul writes: “So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (NLT).

The big idea: Our new creation in Christ isn’t modeled after the Jesus who walked the dusty roads of Galilee, healing the sick and casting out demons as a man under the law. This would be an amazing thing, but the point Paul is making is greater. No, that’s the “human point of view” Paul warns against—the old way of thinking that limits God and shackles your faith. Our identity is fused with the resurrected Christ, the exalted King seated at the right hand of Power. We’re not mimicking the pre-cross Jesus; we’re embodying the post-resurrection Lord. This isn’t some fluffy spiritual metaphor—it’s the explosive reality that unleashes miracles, crushes mountains, and makes “all things possible” a daily command, not a distant dream. And hey, if faith can move mountains, imagine what it does to your Monday morning coffee slump?

Let’s break this down biblically, because human speculation is just satanic superstition dressed up in theological jargon. Paul says we once viewed Christ “from a human point of view.” Think about it: During His earthly ministry, Jesus operated as a man—fully God, yes, but voluntarily limited, born under the law (Galatians 4:4), baptized in the Spirit for power (Luke 3:22, 4:1), and doing the Father’s works through that anointing (John 14:10). He was the forerunner, showing us how a Spirit-empowered human crushes the devil’s works. But that was the old covenant shadow. Post-resurrection? Jesus ascends, pours out the same Spirit on us (Acts 2:33), and now sits enthroned, far above all rule and authority (Ephesians 1:20-21). That’s the Christ we know now—the victorious, glorified One whose name we wield like a divine sledgehammer. Swing it wisely, folks; for Paul tells us, with great power should come great love.

Your new creation isn’t a refurbished version of your old self; it’s a total reboot, a supernatural species upgrade. “The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” Paul shouts. And this new life isn’t tethered to the earthly Jesus—it’s identified with the heavenly One. Colossians 3:1-3 nails it: “Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God.” Raised with Him? Seated with Him? That’s not poetry; that’s positional truth. God sees you already enthroned above every principality, every sickness, every mountain-sized obstacle. Ephesians 2:6 doubles down: “For he raised us from the dead along with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ Jesus.”

Reprobate theologians—those faith-fumblers who peddle unbelief—love to drag us back to a “human point of view.” They say, “Well, that was Jesus; we’re just sinners saved by grace, limping along until heaven.” That’s defective metaphysics, limiting the Holy One of Israel. If we’re seated with the resurrected Christ, our identity is His identity. We are not identified in irrational ways like eternality, infinity, and immutability, because by definition we cannot. However, we’re co-heirs (Romans 8:17), joint-partakers in His divine nature (2 Peter 1:4), and authorized to use His name as if we were Him. Jesus didn’t say, “Ask in My name, but only for small stuff because you’re not Me.” No! In John 14:12-14, He promises: “Anyone who believes in me will do the same works I have done, and even greater works… You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it.” Why? Because using Jesus’ name by faith isn’t cosplay—it’s identification so profound that your request is as if Jesus Himself spoke it. The sovereign God has decided that when you ask for something in Jesus’ Name, it is as if Jesus asked Him directly. God always hears and gives the Son what He asks for, and God has decided to do the same for us when we ask; He did this because God decided to make Jesus’ identity our identity. God decided to do this because He is sovereign and because He wanted to do it, and because He loves you.

The power is ultimately God’s and not that we have inherent power in ourselves, or in our words. However, with that being said, our identification is so substantially and relationally integrated in God’s sovereign thoughts about us that when we command something in faith, it happens. My body does not have inherent power to move, except by the power of God, even when I am typing this essay. However, God has made my body and thoughts so identified together in a relational sense that I consider my body as my own and I naturally move my fingers to type as I want. This is the same reality we now have in our identity with the resurrected Jesus. The power, authority, rich inheritance, and name of Jesus are so integrated with me in the relational sense that when I pray, stuff happens, and mountains move at the sound of my voice. Talk about a voice-activated universe—Siri’s got nothing on this!

God did all this to give us unshakable confidence to ask and receive, by showing us how intellectually, relationally, and ontologically we are identified with Jesus. However, all this is overlooking what Jesus said in John 16 by saying, in that day, I will not even ask on our behalf, because the Father loves you. As if you don’t even need a mediator, because God loves you so much—or better said, the Father loves you so much that He has already made mediation happen and be so complete that you can ask Him directly. As natural as it is for Jesus to be in His own throne room and walk around is the same degree it is for me to walk boldly in God’s throne room and walk around, because I have been so deeply identified with Jesus. This is how the sovereign God thinks about me. And only His thoughts and choices matter.

Maxim 12 from my book rings true here: “God’s gospel is a total salvation. God saves. His chosen ones are clean, righteous, co-heirs with Christ and have the Mind of Christ. They will judge the world and angels; they inherit the world. All things are theirs.” All things! That’s not hyperbole; that’s gospel fact. When you pray in Jesus’ name, commanding a mountain to move (Mark 11:23), it’s the resurrected Christ—seated above all—backing you up. Your faith confession isn’t a beggar’s plea; it’s a king’s decree. Why? Because you’re so united with Him that God hears your voice as His. “By faith” isn’t a caveat—it’s the ignition key. Faith assents to God’s definition of reality: You’re not the old you; you’re the new creation, exalted with Christ.

But here’s where the rubber meets the road—and where defective ethics creeps in. If you evaluate yourself from a “human point of view,” you’ll limit God. You’ll say, “Healing? Miracles? That’s only for Jesus’ earthly ministry, not me.” Wrong! That mindset dishonors the resurrection. Jesus’ ascension and enthronement amplify our authority, not diminish it. In His earthly ministry, He was one man in one place; now, through His body—the church—He’s multiplying miracles worldwide. As great as it would be, to be identified with Jesus’, under the law, in His earthly miracle ministry, it is still a limitation, because what we have is greater.  This is why Jesus promised we would do Greater works! If you doubt that, you’re siding with the faithless, those who trample the blood of Christ by rejecting the full scope of our new creation.

Remember the Israelites? They limited God by unbelief (Psalm 78:41), confessing giants instead of confessing confidence in God’s promise. We’re worse if we do that now—post-resurrection, post-Pentecost. Colossians 3 urges us to “set your minds on things above,” because that’s where our life is hidden. Faith to move mountains? It’s yours because you’re seated above them. Command demons? Absolutely, for you’re far above all powers. Ask for the desires of your heart? Yes, because the Father loves you as He loves Jesus (John 17:23), and your requests in His name glorify the exalted Christ and Himself.

In my book, I dedicate a chunk to ethics: “You Are the Promises of God.” That’s you—new creation, promise-embodied. Don’t evaluate Christ or yourself from a human viewpoint anymore. Know Him as the resurrected King, and know yourself as seated with Him. Faith unleashes God. Faith unleashes your identity in Jesus. Faith unleashes this: Speak to the storm, the sickness, the lack—in Jesus’ name—and watch reality bow. It’s not arrogance; it’s obedience to our new identity; it’s agreeing with God’s definition about this reality He created.

Your Words Always Carry Authority

Sometimes the faith preachers can go too far in their teaching on words, confession, and giving Satan authority through your words of unbelief. Most of the mistakes boil down to one of two things. First is their demonic doctrine of Arminianism. Their denial of the Bible’s sovereignty leads them to say God gave up some of His power and authority and handed it to man, and then man passed it to Satan, and so on. The second is a borderline superstition about words. Jesus said, “Lazarus is dead” (John 11:14). This did not cancel His ability to raise him from the dead, because Jesus said it along with the statement, “we will go and wake him up” (John 11:11). Jesus did not say he was dead in unbelief, fearful that Lazarus could not be raised from the dead, but as a statement made on the human level of observation. Jesus said what could be observed, but contradicted empiricism by faith: “We will go and wake him up.”

With that being said, there is some truth to what is being said, and we need to address it. Proverbs 18:21 declares that life and death are in the power of the tongue. The most obvious way to see this is in salvation. If you believe and confess with your tongue, you will be saved (Romans 10:9-10). However, sometimes the confession of the tongue can be as simple as tears. For Jesus said to the woman who washed His feet with her tears, and to whom He said all her sins are forgiven, “Your faith has saved you” (Luke 7:50). Jesus, the most God-centered man who ever lived, did not say, “God saved you”; no, He said, “Your faith has saved you.” Thus, we see it is more than just words, but words backed up by faith.

Moses said, “I present before you life and death; choose your path” (Deuteronomy 30:19). And the way we choose is by unbelief or faith. If unbelief, then words of unbelief will follow. If faith, then words of faith in God will follow. This is why Jesus said to the woman, regarding the forgiveness of her sins, “Your faith has saved you,” rather than saying “God saved you.” Faith-filled words or unbelief-filled words determine the course of your life. Your position in life is finalized by your confession.

Talk about a divine mic drop—your tongue’s basically a cosmic remote control; hit ‘faith’ for blessings, or ‘unbelief’ for the eternal buffering screen.

God Is Sovereign and Still Is

Because God has not given up any of His direct and absolute control over all things, He therefore still does all that He wants. He defines His own creation and establishes connections and cause and effects. He was sovereign when He made the promises, and so He is sovereign and faithful to do them, no matter how incredible they are.

Thus, when God made the earth, God gave dominion of the earth to man, commanding man to steward it (Genesis 1:28). God did not stop being the only real cause of all things, but on the relative level, because God is in control of all things, it was His choice to put the earth under man’s authority and stewardship. Adam did not ask for this authority and dominion. It is because God is sovereign that Adam had this responsibility and authority even though Adam did not ask for it.

Because the earth was given to man, when Adam sinned, much authority and power was transferred over to Satan, by God’s choice and design. Even though Adam did not ask for the stewardship and responsibility of managing the earth, it was his because God sovereignly made it so. Thus, even if Adam did not want the responsibility for his choices and words of unbelief to result in earthly authority being transferred to Satan, he had no choice in the matter because this dynamic was established by God. The devil said to Jesus, “I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to” (Luke 4:6). Jesus did not refute Satan. After Jesus’ resurrection, He said to the disciples, “All authority has been given to Me” (Matthew 28:18). Jesus took it back, and all those united to Him not only have the original authority and stewardship given to Adam, but much, much, much greater; it is as great as the authority Jesus has. Jesus has made us royal priests in Him forever (1 Peter 2:9, Revelation 1:6). We are not just sub-heirs, but co-heirs with Jesus (Romans 8:17). We are united to Jesus’ body; therefore, because all things, including all powers, authority, rulers, and dominions are under Jesus’ feet, they are under our feet (Ephesians 1:22-23). Jesus has given us the privilege and authority to use His Name to ask for whatever we want and get it (John 14:13-14, & ch 15, and 16). He has endowed us with the power of the Holy Spirit; the same Spirit that empowered Him (Acts 1:8).

As a believer, I did not ask to be made a royal priest in Jesus. And yet, this position of authority and power is mine, whether I want it or not. By my words, as a royal priest, I can command sickness to leave and rebuke Satan to his face. I do not go in and out of being a royal priest who can use Jesus’ name. I always have this position, whether I want it or not. Thus, my words always carry royal priesthood weight and authority because in God’s mind, He thinks I am a royal priest in Jesus. For example, if a king mutters to himself, “I want some water,” even if he did not intend for a servant to go get him water, a servant will get him water, because the word of the king is law. This is exactly what the Canaanite woman did with Jesus’ word (Matthew 15:21-28). Jesus’ word put her as a dog in the house, under the table. Thus, the woman demanded some crumbs, because it was Jesus’ word that put her there, even if Jesus did not intend for her to get healing. Even though the woman hijacked Jesus’ word, on the other hand, she honored His word as that of a King, whose word is law. Jesus was in a position of authority, and the woman was demanding that Jesus honor His word.

 Sovereign God hands out authority like candy at a parade—Adam fumbled it to Satan, Jesus snatched it back, and now we’re co-kings; just don’t trip over your own tongue, or you’ll end up cursing yourself.

This is what we mean by our words having life and death. It is not that we have inherent power in our words, but God in His sovereign choice has put us into positions of authority and power, whether we want it or not. It was this way from the beginning with Adam. Adam lost much of this authority, but God began to give it back starting with Abraham, and in Jesus much more has been given to the believer. It does not matter if you acknowledge your position of authority and power, because God in His mind thinks you are in a position of authority and power, therefore, God will see to it personally that the words you speak will bring death or life to you. It is because God is sovereign and we are accountable to Him that words bring life and death. It is because God is sovereign that I have the power to command sickness to leave, to shut the mouths of demons, and tell mountains to fly away (Mark 11:23).

This results in a double-edged sword. On the one hand, you can curse yourself with death, pain, sickness, shame, and demons, or you can bless yourself with life, peace, prosperity, the Holy Spirit, health, and glory. Even if you shut your mouth, just your tears are enough for God to use His sovereignty to ensure they either damn or bless you.

There is only one word in the Bible for demon possession, and it means to be demonized, and it includes anything from being slightly harassed to outright possession. Because Adam sinned in a position of authority, this led God to give man’s authority over to the devil, and this allowed Satan to demonize mankind. For example, in Acts 10:38, Peter says Jesus healed all those being victimized by the devil. Thus, much sicknesses are caused by demons, and so sickness is largely caused by being demonized. If you are sick, then it is likely due to being demonized, although sometimes it can be just God’s curse at the fall (Genesis 3:16-19).

This is why words are so important. If the doctor says you have stage 4 cancer, and in unbelief and fear you repeat this, because God thinks you are in a position of authority, you have just authorized death and pain for you. You have given permission for demons to demonize you. If you say, “getting old means I get arthritis and feeble and fall,” then it will be true for you. You have chosen death. You have chosen unbelief and curses. God thinks you are a steward in authority over the earth, He thinks you are royalty, He thinks you are a priest, and so your words of unbelief have authorized your flesh to be sick, weak, and in pain.

Once you realize you are always in a position of authority and power, then the intelligent thing to do is use your words to confess the goodness of God over yourself, and use the Name of Jesus to get good things from God.

This is why Christianity started with Abraham, whose very name is a confession of faith in God: “I am the father of many nations” (Genesis 17:5). Christianity started with faith-filled words in God’s good promises of health, wealth, fame, and blessings. Both the Old and New Testaments say this: “We believed and so we have spoken” (2 Corinthians 4:13; Psalm 116:10). This is Christianity 101.

Satan knows this and so he has demonized the faithless into confessing death, and by confessing unbelief they are doing Satan’s job for him. They will say, “We are the worst of sinners,” and so they are (1 Timothy 1:15, but misused here). God thinks they are in a position of authority (even if it is only a mere shadow of the stewardship Adam once had), and so they authorize their souls and actions to be sinful and unrighteous. They say things like, “This sickness is sent by God to teach me something.” The ten spies of the Israel came back from spying on the Land and gave a truthful report about their observations saying, “we are small, and the people are giants, we can’t do this.” It was correct; however, God was angry because God’s promise contradicted their observations. They chose their observation over God’s promise. God made their words to be a self-fulling decree. Thus, God in His sovereignty makes unbelief a self-fulfilling prophecy of sickness, because God considers our words have weight

 Think about it. The faithless and traditionist mock the faith preachers for decreeing and prophesying. Yet, just like the 10 spies, they decree they are sick and are too weak to defeat stage 4 cancer, because that is what the doctor confessed. They prophesy about how old age makes them feeble and how arthritis bends their hands; they decree this because they already observe how their bodies hurt. They decree that they are small, but confess that sickness and old age are giants. They prophesy that sufferings from everyday troubles of life will eat away at their life, libido and happiness. And just like the Israelites who confessed their own smallness, defeat and sufferings, God made their decrees reality, and made their prophecies manifest. They speak against the faith teachers for decreeing, but their mouths pour out an onslaught of decrees and prophecies, but in the negative. And we see it come to pass. They see their confessions manifest, not because they have inherent power in words, but because the sovereign God thinks their decrees have authority and power. Their lives are a living testimony of the power of decrees and the reality of prophecy. Their doctrine is against decreeing, but their lives are a constant endorsement of it.

It does not matter if you do not want your self-deprecating statements, or observations about how your body feels, to be self-fulling prophecies, God in His sovereignty ensures your words authorizes them to be so. This is how God is using His sovereignty, so deal with it. Deal with it by speaking faith filled words in God’s blessings.    

Satan’s sneaky script flip—get the faithless yapping negativity, and poof, they’re self-sabotaging superstars; meanwhile, God’s like, “I glued the mic to your hand, it will amplify your words, so think carefully what you will say!”

There is a reason Jesus preached so much. Faith comes by hearing the word of truth (Romans 10:17). By hearing the truth, our hearts are filled with faith. When our hearts are filled with faith, we open our mouths and confess His blessings over our lives. In the Gospels, Jesus kept saying things like, “Ask what you want using my Name and get it” (John 16:23-24). And then, “What you SAY, if you believe, then you will get it.” And if you “SAY to this mountain it will move” (Mark 11:23).

Notice how many times Jesus says, “SAY.”

Mark 11:23-24: “Truly I tell you, if anyone SAYS to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they SAY will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you [SAY] for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”

Lastly, we are instructed to always be praying, praying in tongues, rejoicing, and praising God (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18; Ephesians 6:18; 1 Corinthians 14:2). God knows that He sees us in authority and so commands us to continually be saying faith-filled words about His goodness, salvation, and blessings over us. Our faith, our words, and confessions need to catch up to our identity in Christ, to our high position of already sitting in the heavenly places in Christ (Ephesians 2:6), and to our position as always being a royal priest. Our words have power and authority because God is sovereign, and because He loves us. Jesus enjoys seeing the people He died for use His Name to say and command good things for themselves.

Just as speaking sickness opens a foothold for you to be demonized (Ephesians 4:27), speaking in tongues is a foothold for the powers of God to flood into your life.

Your words are like spiritual WiFi passwords: Mutter curses and invite demonic hackers; confess faith and unlock God’s unlimited data plan of miracles.

I Will Never Send Anyone (Sickness) To Attack You

“If indeed one attacks, it is not from me; whoever attacks you shall fall because of you.

Look! I myself have created the craftsman who blows the fire of coals, and who produces a weapon for his work; also I myself have created the destroyer to destroy.

 [No] weapon formed against you shall succeed, and you shall [condemn] every tongue that rises against you for judgment. This is the inheritance of the servants of Yahweh, and their legal right from me.” (Isaiah 54:15-17 LEB)

I noticed two essays on my website being viewed more, which are “The Devil Is Making You Sick, Not God,” and “Sickness Is Satan’s Glory, Not God’s. They all have a similar theme: God did not send you sickness. It is not from Him. It was sent from Satan. God sends healings. The scales of faithless teachings are falling away from the eyes of believers.

This passage is a one-stop-shop of a few major themes in one place. I will focus on a few things to meditate on.

The first theme is God saying He did not send bad people to fight against Israel. CSB: “If anyone attacks you, it is not from me.” ERV: “I will never send anyone to attack you.”

How can anyone be more God-centered than God? How can anyone be more concerned for God’s name and glory than God? Obviously, no one can, including you, and definitely including faithless trash that peddles cessationism or any denial of expansionism. Is it not anti-God-centered to say God did not send something? Is God not directly and absolutely sovereign over all things? Well, yes, God is. In fact, the next section of the passage directly addresses this. God says He creates nations and the people in them and creates them for war, for His own purpose. If a blacksmith makes a weapon, it is because God made it happen with more directness than the blacksmith making the sword. God does not find a nation and then use them. No. God forms them from scratch. This is like the neutral lump of clay in Romans 9. God starts with a neutral lump and forms it into the shapes He wants.

So yes, God is directly sovereign over all things in absolute and direct control. However, the same passage says, “If someone attacks you, I didn’t send them, I didn’t do it.” The reason for this is simple. The Bible affirms God’s control over all things, but it mainly talks at the human level, or relative level. That is, relative to how humans perceive things and relative to how one created object interacts with another created object. On this relative level, God is correct when He denies sending people to attack Israel. There is no mystery here because we are talking about two different categories: one ultimate and the other relative. Mystery comes because people create category errors by mixing the two. Mixing ultimate and relative levels? That’s like confusing quantum physics with your grandma’s cookie recipe—both sweet, but one will blow your mind, the other your diet.

God does not send evil to Israel. If evil does come to them, God did not send it. This was true under the Old Covenant, but today we have a better Covenant. Thus, how much more does God not send evil to saints, who are redeemed by the blood of Jesus and part of Abraham’s blessing? This blessing says God is our God and we His children, and that He never stops from doing good to us. Jesus defined a good father as one who gives a fish for a fish—or that is, who gives you what you ask for and not something different. In the New Contract, Jesus is our High Priest who ministers to us the things He accomplished through His atonement. Jesus not only forgave all our sins, but by His stripes we were healed. Jesus became our poverty so we become rich by His wealth. Jesus took on our curse and gave us the blessing of Abraham, which included fame, health, wealth, and supernatural increase to all our lives.

God is in a Contract with us, and therefore, relative to our interactions with God, and God’s interaction with us, He does not send sin to us—otherwise, Jesus would be a minister of sin. Jesus does not send poverty to us—otherwise, Jesus would be High Priest of poverty. Jesus does not minister sickness to us—otherwise, His ministry would be a ministry of sickness, pain, and death. There is a being who does minister such things, and that is Satan. He has a ministry of death, sickness, poverty, and pain. He comes to steal, kill, and destroy. But Jesus comes to give life and even abundant life.

However, our passage in Isaiah is more basic, for it is not directly talking about the ministry of Jesus. It is more about God’s nature. In Isaiah, God mentions for us to remember we were carved from the rock of Abraham. God is a friend to Abraham and is good to all his descendants. God is kind and compassionate. This is God’s nature. Thus, God does not send evil to His children. He gives them good things; He gives them a fish for a fish. If there is poverty, sickness, and troubles, God did not send it. They came from someone else, but not God.

Notice the implication. When God says He did not send the evil, you cannot blame God for it. If you have cancer, or if your loved one died before their time, or you are poor, you cannot blame God for this, because God did not send it. He denies that He did it. God rejects any involvement in your sicknesses and troubles. They are from Satan, the curse or they are self-inflicted. However, even if they are self-inflicted, Satan is the one who is actively working on you to self-inflict yourself with death and destruction. Thus, the devil is the one sending you the troubles.

You are a douchebag piece of trash if you blame God for your sickness, because He did not send it. Whom am I to believe? God denies it, but you affirm it? You have no right to attribute to God what He denies.

Beyond the blame game, there is the issue that you are calling God Satan. Confusing God with Satan? That’s like mistaking Superman for Lex Luthor—same cape, wrong agenda. Epic fail. Seriously, you cannot tell the difference between God and the devil, and you want to school people in theology?

There is another implication drawn directly from the passage: “No weapon forged against you will prevail, and you will refute every tongue that accuses you. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord” (NIV).

The argument God gives is simple. On the relative level, God did not send the trouble; therefore, when trouble comes to you, tell it to f@#k off. Jesus gives us a clear picture of this in His faith doctrine. What does it mean to refute every tongue that accuses you? Jesus commands us to “speak” to our mountains and tell them to get out of our way. Jesus also says that we can use His Name to ask for whatever we want and get it to increase our joy and give the Father glory. Peter therefore said, “What I have, I give, In Jesus Name, Walk.” Thus, because the trouble did not come from Jesus, when troubles—or that is, when mountains—come, condemn it, refute it, and tell it to cast itself in the sea.

A doctor will condemn you with sickness. But God did not send the sickness. ERV: “I will never send anyone to attack you.” Or that is, God will never send sickness to attack you. The devil is making you sick. Therefore, when the doctor’s tongue accuses you with stage 4 cancer, refute it by the Name of Jesus Christ. Because God did not send you sickness, you have the freedom to send it away. Your inheritance through Jesus Christ includes the authority to use His name to command sickness to leave. This birthright belongs to all who are made righteous by Jesus’ atonement. This is God’s vindication to all who belong to Him.

The point to notice is basic: you, not God, are speaking to troubles. “You will refute every tongue that accuses you.” You have the inheritance to rebuke troubles sent to you, and so you must be the one who refutes it, not God. In essence, God is saying, “I did not send evil to you; therefore, I will not be the one to send it away. I have given you the vindication and authority to refute it and send it away. You open your mouth, and you command it.”

God’s handing you the mic—time to drop some holy bars on that mountain. “Yo, cancer, hit the road… in Jesus’ name!”

I Apologize for the Diversion

[This section was part of my Systematic Theology, but I decided it was to much of a rabbit trail to leave in the book; and so, I published it here as extra reading material]

I am not alone in saying this. The famous John Calvin says in his institutes, as I paraphrase, “that God with His infinite power, could have created Adam to resist the temptation in the garden, but willfully chose to create Adam in such a way, that Adam did not have the power to resist the temptation. And it is wicked to question or look for a further reason why Adam sinned.” Martin Luther, not directly dealing with Adam’s sin speaks of Satan. Satan’s sin is relevant, because as Adam is the original sinner for mankind, Satan is for angels. “So that which we call the remnant of nature in the ungodly and in Satan, as being a creature and a work of God, is no less subject to Divine omnipotence and action than all the rest of God’s creatures and works. Since God moves and works all in all, He moves and works of necessity even in Satan and the ungodly.[1] Martin is saying, regarding the only real level causality, God directly works evil, in evil creatures, just as directly as He works good, in good creatures. As direct as God is, as He works faith in an elect, it is the same as He works unbelief in the reprobate.

Some modern Reformed people, such as R.C. Sproul, call this hyper-Calvinism[2]. This is self-damming because the Bible teaches this, and so it is an attack on God. It is also stupid because Calvin teaches this, and so now we have a history manmade mess, where we need to keep talking about what man said what. God and the bible become secondary at best. Calvin says there is NO such thing as “permission will” with God about anything in reality, thus, God is not permissive with the reprobate. Calvin clearly taught that God is as directly involved in reprobation as He is in the elect. God does not, merely leave the reprobate, yet actively works in the elect. Calvin says,  

Finally, he adds the conclusion that “God has mercy upon whomever he wills, and he hardens whomever he wills” [Rom. 9:18]. Do you see how Paul attributes both to God’s decision alone? If, then, we cannot determine a reason why he vouchsafes mercy to his own, except it so pleases him, neither shall we have any reason for rejecting others, other than his will. For when it is said that God hardens or shows mercy to whom he wills, men are warned by this to seek no cause outside his will.[3]

So, whether it is the elect or reprobate, Calvin says you cannot go beyond, “God Willed it.” God willed it, and not that man willed; God will, and not that God left it, and a nebulous neutral power, outside of God, willed it. God did it directly, by His will and power. Calvin applies God’s will and direct working power, as equally to the elect as reprobate. Thus, if Martin Luther and Calvin are correct, then the WCF teaches a false doctrine, when it talks about secondary causes. I do not want to linger long on history and people, because Christians, like the Jews in Jesus’ day, use traditions to negate the Scripture. However, it might be worth saying that Martin Luther thanked Erasmus for attacking his teaching on God’s direct sovereign power in man, and with the gospel, and not attacking non-relevant issues. That is, Luther saw this teaching about God’s absolute sovereign power that directly works in the saint as it works in the sinner and Satan, as the central argument. Calvin, it seems, saw the importance as well. The WCF, which came later, contradicted what they taught.

Calvin actually gives a summary of this doctrine saying,

The sum of the whole is this,—since the will of God is said to be the cause of all things, all the counsels and actions of men must be held to be governed by his providence. Therefore, as God exerts his power in the elect, who are guided by the Holy Spirit, He also exerts force in the reprobate to do him service.[4]

…When [Augustine] uses the term permission [He means] that the will of God is the supreme and primary cause of all things, because nothing happens without his order or permission. He certainly does not figure God sitting idly in a watch-tower, when he chooses to permit anything. The will which he represents—if I may so express it—is an active will; for if God’s will is not active, then God’s will could not be regarded as a cause.[5]

…When I say that God bends all the reprobate, and even Satan himself, at his will, some object that only happens by the permission, not by the will of God…

[Those who are against the will of God that causes all things, counter this by saying] this is done only by the permission of God, and not by the will of God. However, God himself, openly declares that he does this, and thus, rebukes their evasion of this doctrine.

I admit, indeed, that God often acts in the reprobate by interposing the agency of Satan; but in such a manner, that Satan himself performs his part, just as he is impelled.

Some say, if God causes the counsels and affections of the reprobate, he is the author of all their sins; and, therefore, men, in doing what God has decreed, are unjustly condemned, because they are obeying his will. Such an objection makes a category mistake made between God’s will (decree) and his command, though it is obvious, from innumerable examples, that there is the greatest difference between them.

What we formerly quoted from the Psalms, to the effect that he does whatever pleases him, certainly extends to all the actions of men.[6]

Calvin is defining “providence” as this category proposition, “All things that are caused are things caused by the will of God.” This is not how I hear some Reformed people say it; they use it in a softer, vaguer, and more fatalistic way. I do not know if Calvin is truly representing Augustine about his use of “permission,” however it is not relevant, for the only point I wish to make is that Calvin is saying this because he agrees with the doctrine. Calvin is defining “God’s Will,” as only meaning a “active willing.” This of course lines up with Calvin saying that God does nothing by permitting it. This is important for there are people who use the word for “active” predestination for the elect and “passive” for the reprobate, such as R.C Sproul.  Calving contradicts this in both his negative and positive definition in what “God’s will” means. (1) It never means permission, and it always means active. In addition to this Calvin defends God’s active will, by saying if God’s will is not active, then it cannot logically be defined as a real “cause” of something. That is, if God only permits Pharaoh’s heart to be hard, and Pharaoh only permits, his heart to be hard, then there is no cause for it, which is nonsense. Calvin, like Luther, says that as God uses His power and force to make the saints believe and do, God uses the same power and force to make the reprobates and Satan to not believe and do.  Thus, when Calvin says God willed something he means God causes it, and not something or someone. When Calvin says that God will is the cause of all things, he means that it is the real, primary and active cause of it.

Even if you disagree with my points and copyediting, Calvin says God’s will does not mean permission, and that God’s will always means the same thing applied to all reality. This means you cannot say Calvin taught predestination one way for the Christian and then something less for the reprobate.

Martin Luther says that God is the one who put the evil in man originally. Additionally, as active as God is in causing “faith” in the Christian he is as active in causing “unbelief” in the reprobate. The way Luther talks about God’s causality with faith and unbelief, being the same, we conclude there is no room to say active will this and permissive will that. God makes the reprobate as a defective hammer from scratch, and not that the hammer made itself. God then picks up this defective hammer and uses it (causes them to will and do in life). The hammer makes defective hits, and God judges them for it.

Seriously, if all you do is a word search for “permission” in Calvin’s institutes, you will see Calvin over and over, in many different ways and with many passages say, God’ will does not involve permission for anything, relative to Him. Then modern Reformed people, like Sproul come around and say, God actively wills election, but only is passive or permits the reprobates. To deny passive or permissive will of God for the Reprobate, is for them is hyper-Calvinism. If you read Calvin and Luther a few times, and then read modern reformed fanboys, then you will become as appalled as I have in how much they speak in a continual and habitual slander and false witness against them. Why don’t they just say Calvin and Luther are heretics and just own up to it?

Calvin gives a category proposition for Christian metaphysics. He defines what it means and what it does not mean. All things are things caused by God’s active will. How simple and to the point that is. Modern reformed guys trying to complete this by coming up with phrases like, “active and passive,” “double predestination,” “soft this hard that,” “equal ultimacy” (etc.). They do this to make themselves look smart and academic, and to hide their unbelief under long, complicated loaded phrases.

Here is a pro-tip. If you truly want to communicate clearly, just use basic category statements. All, Some or None. The Scripture, along with Calvin and Luther, define Christian metaphysics as “All things are things directly caused by God.” The only two options for disagreement are “Some things are things directly cause by God, and some are not,” or “No things, are things directly cause by God.” Rather than saying “soft this and hard that,” just say “God determines all things by His will,” or “He does not,” or “He sometime does, and sometimes does not.” See, how simple and clear that is?

Calvin says, “the will of God is the cause of all things.” This will is defined as active by “God’s” “force” and “power,” and “never by permission.” Therefore, Calvin denies “secondary causes.” He does affirmed “secondary objects,” like Satan, that are themselves moved by God’s active force and power, but denies secondary cause as it is relative to God. Calvin also says, along with Luther, that the category of God’s decree and command, removes any human complaining about injustice done to them, when God punishes them for things that He causes them to do. Thus, both Calvin and Luther are in direct contradiction to the WCF, when it affirms secondary causes.

The WCF says,

“God, from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely, and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass: yet so, as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures; nor is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established.”

This is outright blasphemy. It denies the absolute and direct sovereignty of God over all things. They are trying to avoid calling God the author of sin, but since God directly controls all things, then He is precisely the metaphysical author of sin and evil. There is no logical maneuver to avoid this. If they affirm God decreed and caused all things directly by his sovereignty, then of course God is the author of sin. One fool tried to tell me that the WCF, in this place, is affirming God and sin are not categorically plausible, the way Gordon Clark would teach on this topic.[7] Yet, this is not the context. The “context” is about metaphysics or ultimate causality, “God ordaining all things by His choice.”

If the WCF by saying “ordaining,” does not mean that God is the only absolute direct cause for all things, then it up-fronts admits that it is affirming Arminianism, and that there is dualism in Christian ontology. I will be kind here, and assume it is affirming God’s absolute and direct sovereignty over all things.

They try to affirm God’s decree and control over all things, but then say God is not the controller of sin—this is said in CONTEXT to God decreeing and controlling all things. They contradict themselves, to affirm a human superstition, which says God cannot be the author of sin and unbelief in the same direct causality, since He is the author of faith and holiness. Some who see the insanity of this try to affirm a mystery or paradox. LOL! You cannot say God ordains or causes “all things,” and then say, God does not ordain or control sin. You cannot say, “All things are things directly controlled by God,” and “This thing is a thing God does not directly control.” Or, “God does control all things, but at the same time God does not control some things.”  Let us try this with something else. “All persons who are saved are saved by Jesus. This saved person is a person not saved by Jesus. This statement is not contradictive or blaspheme, it is a “mystery and a paradox.”” Wow, I am on my way to be a great theologian!

Again, in CONTEXT to the category of God directly causing all things, it is said, “the freedom and possibility of secondary causes are not taken away.” Therefore, we will stay in this same category, so as not to commit a category fallacy.

If God is the direct causality of all things, then all secondary causes do not exist, and there is no freedom or possibility of any created object to do or cause anything; God takes away all secondary causes, because He along directly causes all things.

Some have mentioned to me that the phrase “secondary causes” was used in two different ways a few hundred years ago. One means what the noun phrase naturally says (relative to God there are secondary ontologies), the other meaning is similar to pointing out the category fallacy issue that Gordon Clark often points out. There is no historical evidence this second meaning was widely used and popular, other than a few insistences (as far as I have been able to research it, and even then, I am not totally convinced it wasn’t just a typo or accidently used that way). This is an interesting point, but ultimately a non-relative point for interpretating the WCF’s statement, because the authors all knew how Calvin in his Institutes answered it, and his answer did not use this phrase, or the category of ontology.

John Calvin later in his life wrote a book about predestination, and he does seem to distance God as the author of sin from His predestination, or at least, making contradictive statements about it. It was less popular and less read as compared to his Institutes. However, because it was Calvin’s Institutes that all pastors and theologians were required to read, and that greatly influenced Europe, we will refer to his teaching in this book, as “Calvinism.” History shows the Institutes as hugely popular and influential.  As pointed out in the quote above, Calvin, when addressing the question of author of sin, does not use “secondary causes” (ontology) language, but said, “Such an objection makes a category mistake made between God’s will (decree) and his command, though it is obvious, from innumerable examples, that there is the greatest difference between them.” Calvin does not refer to causes to refute the accusation of God being the author of sin, but merely says it is a category fallacy to combine these. The WCF, was written by pastors who had to read Calvin’s Institutes in school. Yet, they chose to use “secondary causes” (ontology) rather than the concise and easy explanation from Calvin’s Institutes, which they all read and studied.

Seeing these pastors and theologians all studied logic and philosophy, the phrase “secondary causes” would still have ontology as its most direct meaning, even if some used is differently. The WCF chose to use a noun phrase, when its main meaning is about ontology, (and phrase naturally means ontology), in context about ontology. When the Institute’s dealt with ontology and the author of sin, Calvin answered with a category fallacy; yet, when the WCF answered this, it did so with another point about secondary ontology. These are two very different ways to answer the question. The conclusion is that even as early as the WCF the doctrine of God’s sovereignty was already defective and compromised.

It seems beyond reasonable to me that highly schooled pastors, who read the Institutes, Logic and Philosophy, when writing about ontology, would immediately answer with a phrase “secondary causality” or “secondary ontology” and not mean the category of ontology. Maybe an amateur, who is not good at communicating, but a room full of very educated pastors, I do not see that mistake happening.

To avoid this biblical outcome of the author of sin, the WCF commits the blasphemy of affirming secondary causes, at the ultimate level with God. They are pagans who affirm metaphysical dualism with God. Martin Luther is famous for pointing out the category fallacy that Erasmus made with ontology and ethics. It seems the WCF, with their category fallacies and paradoxes (and how modern Reformed people try to excuse this section) has more in common with the Catholic, than Martin Luther.

Again, think about a chess game.

This WCF passage is talking about the real level causality, which would be “Johnny moves white bishop to b4.” This passage is not talking about the relative level, which would be, “white bishop moves to b4.” In order to save the WCF many do the same category error that Arminians do to many passages of Scripture, by changing real level causality to relative level. The Armenians are morons for doing this, and so are the Reformed teachers who try to salvage this WCF passage, when it cannot be saved.

Vincent on this WCF passage says,

…I believe that if a person is a Christian and somewhat intelligent, then if we were to repeat, “If God is not the direct metaphysical cause of something, then something else is,” to his face over and over again, eventually he would realize what this really means and would become just as alarmed and repulsed at the notion as we are. But perhaps both faith and intelligence are rare, and the combination even less likely.

As for secondary causation, I have addressed this a number of times. If all else fails, I can say that I did not write the books, but my computer did. The fact that I was typing on it when the books appeared does not nullify the authorship of the computer or its moral responsibility, but only establishes it. If the reply is that the computer is not an intelligent mind but a dead object, I would insist that Dual Core is superior to a lump of clay (Romans 9). In any case, if God’s authorship is only so distant (I did not make the computer, the software, nor did I make or control the electricity), he might not be so clearly the author of sin….

If I am right, then they must be wrong. The question is, how can they be right without self-contradiction — that God controls all things, but he really doesn’t, that God causes all things, but he really doesn’t? The Reformed is fond of appealing to “mystery,” “paradox,” and “antinomy,” which are nothing but more dignified and deceptive terms for saying, “Clearly, I contradict myself, but I don’t care.” Instead, it seems to me that divine sovereignty is an altogether clear and coherent doctrine. It is so easy to understand. I have also answered the almost universal abuse of James 1:13. Temptation and causation are two different things, and the topic is causation, not temptation.

We must submit to the direct teachings of Scripture and its necessary implications, and not the traditions and good intentions of men.[8]

I apologize for the diversion. Although I do not call myself a Calvinist, I do not like false witnesses and un-needed complexities and un-needed phrases. We can see from this the importance to leave history and fanboys with their slanders, loaded phrases and complexities to themselves. We will focus on making doctrinal statements (all, some or none) and making easy deductive application for ourselves, so that we can walk by the commands of God in joy.


[1] Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will; translated by J. I. Packer and O. R. Johnston; Fleming H. Revell ,1957. 204

Also see my website for an article called, “Martin Luther- The Bondage of the Will – Commentary,” for more about the Bondage of the Will.

[2] R. C. Sproul, Chosen by God; Tyndale House Publishers, 1986; p. 142.
 “The Reformed view teaches that God positively or actively intervenes in the lives of the elect to insure their salvation. The rest of mankind God leaves to themselves. He does not create unbelief in their hearts…”  
Sproul also in page 142 says active reprobation is “hyper” and “sub” Calvinism.

[3] Calvin, Institutes. p. 947.

[4] Calvin’s Institutes. CCEL ebook edition. publish domain. (www.ccel.org). Book 1, Chapter 18.
I have done a medium copyedit on the English (to modernize it), on this material. See original for comparison.

[5] Ibid. Book ,1 Chapter 16.

[6] Ibid. Book 1, Chapter 18

[7] Gordon Clark, in order to make the WCF affirm the correct level of sovereignty he taught, had to bear false witness against the WCF to make it say what it does not. His slander is the opposite of most Reformed teachers, who slander Calvin and Luther, by falsely saying they teach the same thing as the WCF. The WCF is their creed; it is their gate keeper, but Calvin and Luther are also their divine fathers. Yet, they contradict one another. And so, this back-and-forth slander is how it ends up being for fan boys, and traditionist.

Leave them and their tradition, they have their reward.

[8] Vincent Cheung. “WCF, secondary causes, etc.”

From the ebook, Sermonettes, Vol. 1. 2010. Page. 82-83.