Category Archives: christian soteriology

Your Blessed: Even If You’re in the Wrong

September 28, 2025 

Let’s dive straight into the heart of God’s unshakeable covenant with His people, a truth that shines through the stories of Abraham and Isaac like a divine spotlight cutting through the fog of human failure. In Genesis 12:10-20, Abraham, driven by famine, heads to Egypt and pulls a fast one: he tells Pharaoh that Sarah is his sister, not his wife, fearing for his life. Technically, she’s a half-sister, but the omission is a lie by any honest measure. Yet, when Pharaoh takes Sarah into his palace, God doesn’t thunder down on Abraham with a rebuke. Instead, He plagues Pharaoh’s household, forcing the king to confront the deception and send Abraham away loaded with wealth—silver, gold, livestock. Abraham is in the wrong and God slaps Pharaoh instead. Think about that.  Abraham walks out richer, unscathed, while the pagan ruler gets the divine smackdown. Fast-forward to Genesis 26:6-11, and Isaac pulls the same stunt with Rebekah in Gerar, claiming she’s his sister to King Abimelech. Again, no heavenly finger-wagging at Isaac. Isaac not only escapes harm but reaps a hundredfold harvest in a drought-stricken land (v. 12), blessing upon blessing despite his fear-driven fib.

This isn’t sloppy storytelling in Scripture; it’s a deliberate showcase of God’s covenant loyalty, a Contract so ironclad that it overrides human sins and turns them into triumphs. God’s unmerited favor supplies man; man does not supply God. Abraham and Isaac weren’t earning brownie points here—they were fumbling in fear, yet God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 12:2-3 (“I will bless you… and you will be a blessing”) kicks in like an unstoppable force. The Almighty rebukes kings, plagues palaces, and pours out prosperity, all while His chosen ones learn on the job. It’s almost comical, in a sobering way: picture Pharaoh scratching his head over sudden household chaos, or Abimelech sweating through a nightmare, while the real culprits—Abraham and Isaac—stroll away with upgrades. God isn’t winking at sin; He’s demonstrating that His Contract isn’t fragile like human deals. It’s sovereign, absolute, and directly orchestrated to showcase His glory through imperfect vessels.

Now, zoom out to the bigger picture: this covenant power isn’t ancient history; it’s amplified in the New Contract through Jesus Christ. Galatians 3:29 declares, “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” That promise? The blessing of Abraham, including supernatural favor that makes kings back off and resources multiply, even when we’ve messed up. Jesus became the curse for us (Galatians 3:13), swapping our failures for His righteousness, so that God’s contract with us—sealed in blood—guarantees ongoing goodness. Hebrews 8:10-12 spells it out: God writes His laws on our hearts, calls us His people, and remembers our sins no more. This isn’t license to abuse grace, as Paul warns in Romans 6:1-2—we don’t sin so grace abounds. But it is a reminder that God’s favor isn’t performance-based; it’s promise-based. When we stumble, He doesn’t abandon ship; He rebukes the “kings” in our lives—be they bosses, circumstances, or even demonic forces—and redirects the fallout to our benefit. Think of it: your mistake at work leads to a promotion because God stirs favor; a health scare turns into miraculous recovery because the Contract (not your performance) demands healing. Reprobates scoff at this, calling it “health and wealth heresy,” because they would rather trample Jesus blood and believe in Him.  

Yet, here’s where faith enters the fray, and it’s not optional—it’s the ignition switch. Abraham and Isaac’s stories show God’s initiative, but our response matters. In both cases, their partial truths stemmed from fear, not faith, yet God honored the underlying covenant. For us, post-cross, we’re called to higher: Our faith needs to catch up to who we already are in Christ. Ephesians 2:6 seats us with Christ in heavenly realms, far above earthly kings and blunders. But if we wallow in guilt or unbelief after a slip-up, we limit God, confessing our mess instead of His mercy. Jesus modeled this perfectly: even when Peter denied Him, Christ didn’t rebuke with threats but restored him (John 21:15-19), focusing on future fruit. We’re not to abuse grace by plotting deceptions, but when we falter by the weakness of the flesh, God’s contract kicks in. He promises in Romans 8:28 to work all things for good, rebuking obstacles and supplying needs.

This truth dismantles defective ethics that peddle guilt as godliness.  Faith-fumblers, preach a gospel where God’s always mad, ready to zap you for every misstep. Nonsense. The same love the Father has for Jesus, He gives to His elect. If God rebuked kings for Abraham’s sake, how much more for us, united with the resurrected Christ? We’re His children, not probationary hires. He promises in Psalm 105:14-15, “He allowed no one to oppress them; for their sake he rebuked kings: ‘Do not touch my anointed ones; do my prophets no harm.'” That’s Contract protection, extending to us as Abraham’s heirs.

Let these stories fuel bold confession: “God, even in my stumbling, Your Contract stands; rebuke the ‘kings’ in my path and pour out Your goodness.” Faith catches up by meditating on promises day and night (Psalm 1:2-3), assenting to God’s definitions over our feelings. You’re not defined by mistakes; you’re defined by the Contract—accomplished, effective, eternal. And if He rebuked pharaohs for patriarchs, imagine what He’ll do for you. It’s not arrogance; it’s agreement with Scripture.

Satan’s Sticky Fingers: Robbed of Speech

Sept / 16 / 2025

“A spirit has robbed him of speech.”

Picture this: a desperate father, elbowing through a crowd in ancient Galilee, clutching the frayed edges of his hope like a man who’s just realized his wallet’s gone missing in a divine pickpocket scheme. “Teacher,” he blurts out in Mark 9:17, “I brought you my son, who is possessed by a spirit that has *robbed* him of speech.” Robbed. Not gently borrowed, not misplaced in some cosmic filing error—robbed. As if Satan himself is out there running a black-market operation on human dignity, snatching voices, health, and futures with the glee of a thief who knows the cops are on coffee break. And Jesus? He’s not there to commiserate over the loss. No, He’s the divine restitution agent, the one who turns the tables and declares, in essence, “That’s not how this story ends.” Because while Satan steals, kills, and destroys, Jesus—that is, God in the flesh—shows up to give life, and life to the full (John 10:10). It’s a total takedown, a comprehensive comeback, where the enemy’s heists meet their match in the King’s vault of abundance.

Let’s not rush past that word, though: “robbed”. The NIV nails it here, capturing the raw theft at play. This isn’t some vague affliction drifting in from the ether; it’s a deliberate grab, a demonic mugging. The father isn’t whining about a genetic glitch or the general brokenness of a fallen world—he’s pointing the finger straight at the spirit doing the dirty work. And Jesus doesn’t correct him with a theological footnote about Adam’s ancient fumble in the garden. No, He rolls up His sleeves, rebukes the foul spirit, and sends it packing, leaving the boy whole. It’s a scene that echoes through the Gospels like a divine audit: Satan as the ultimate con artist, pilfering what God intended for flourishing. But here’s the frank truth, straight from the self-authenticating pages of Scripture—our epistemology’s unyielding foundation: This robbery isn’t God’s idea. It’s not His script. God doesn’t script poverty of body or spirit; He authors prosperity, health, and unhindered communion. To think otherwise is to buy into the devil’s counterfeit theology, where lack masquerades as piety and suffering as sanctity. What a con. What a waste.

Dig a little deeper into Jesus’ ministry, and you see this contrast isn’t a one-off plot twist—it’s the central narrative arc. From the synagogue in Capernaum to the dusty roads of Judea, Jesus doesn’t just forgive sins in some ethereal corner of the soul; He pairs it with healing the body, restoring the broken, and multiplying the loaves like He’s got a divine expense account with no limits. Remember the paralytic lowered through the roof in Mark 2? “Son, your sins are forgiven,” Jesus declares. The scribes mutter about blasphemy, so He follows up: “Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up, take your mat and walk’?” Then—bam—the man walks. Forgiveness and function, absolution and ability, bundled together like a covenant combo meal. It’s total salvation on display, where spiritual restoration isn’t isolated from material wholeness. Satan robs on both fronts: voices silenced in shame, bodies bent in pain, wallets emptied in want. But Jesus? His life-giving ministry hits back harder, broader, deeper. He doesn’t offer a half-measure grace that patches the soul while leaving the flesh to fester. No, He restores the whole package, because anything less would dishonor the God who, from Genesis onward, pronounced creation “very good”—abundant, integrated, thriving.

And let’s not kid ourselves: This robbery extends to the material realm, too. The same spirit that mutes a boy’s speech whispers lies about scarcity, convincing folks that God’s too stingy for silver or too sovereign to care about supper. But Scripture shreds that nonsense. Satan steals health *and* wealth, binding people in cycles of lack that mock the Creator’s generosity. Look at the widow’s oil in 2 Kings 4—multiplied by God’s word through Elisha—or Abraham’s flocks swelling under heaven’s favor. These aren’t anomalies; they’re previews of the blessing that flows from faith. Jesus embodies it fully: feeding five thousand from a boy’s lunch, turning water to wine without a single budget meeting. His high priesthood isn’t one of half-rations and holy poverty; it’s the ministry of righteousness, healing, and prosperity (as Peter sums it up in Acts 10:38). To claim Jesus as your priest while nursing a theology of deprivation is like hiring a chef who specializes in feasts and then settling for stale bread. It’s not devotion; it’s delusion. God’s unmerited favor supplies man—man doesn’t supply God. Satan peddles the lie that lack builds character; Jesus proves abundance glorifies the Father.

Now, pivot to that sevenfold restoration—the Bible’s bold promise of over-the-top payback. Joel 2:25 thunders it: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm—my great army that I sent among you.” Not just a refund, mind you, but a surplus, a divine interest rate that turns theft into treasure. Zechariah 9:12 echoes the vibe: “Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.” Twice? Try seven, as the pattern holds from Job’s double-down restoration to the prodigal’s fatted calf welcome. This isn’t cosmic compensation for pity’s sake; it’s God’s sovereign logic at work, where what the enemy meant for ruin becomes rocket fuel for glory. Satan robs your speech? God restores your voice—with volume, clarity, and a testimony that echoes through eternity. He robs your health? Expect not just mending, but vitality that turns heads and topples strongholds. Wealth pilfered? Watch as storehouses overflow, not from sweat alone, but from the blessing of Abraham crashing through the gates of grace.

But here’s where the rubber meets the road, and the wit turns a shade sharper: If the curse of Adam looms in the background—and it does, that primal fracture rippling through creation—Jesus didn’t leave it hanging like a bad sequel. Galatians 3:13 lays it bare: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.'” Substitutionary atonement in action: Jesus absorbs the thorns, the sweat, the silence of the tomb, so you get the garden’s bounty. The father in Mark 9 doesn’t blame Adam’s echo; he names the demon. Jesus doesn’t theologize about original sin; He evicts the intruder. The bent-over woman in Luke 13? “Ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years, be set free on the Sabbath day?” Satan, not some vague curse, gets the credit for the crook in her spine. Sure, the Fall set the stage for such invasions, but Jesus spotlights the squatter, the thief in the night. And why? Because pinpointing the robber empowers the resistance. If it’s just “the curse,” you shrug in fatalism (aka the Christian word for “if it is God’s will”). But if it’s Satan—and Scripture screams it is—then you’ve got a command: Resist the devil, and he will flee (James 4:7). Cast out spirits, heal the sick, reclaim the stolen. Faith isn’t passive therapy; it’s aggressive restitution.

Frankly, if you’re sitting on robbed health or pilfered prosperity, nursing it like a badge of spiritual maturity, you’re not just missing the plot—you’re aiding and abetting the heist. You’re a willing accomplice, handing Satan the getaway car keys while Jesus stands ready with the restitution check. Maxim 16 cuts like a surgeon’s scalpel: Reprobates who resist faith on demand for healing and blessings have sided with demons to trample the blood of Christ. Ouch? Good. Truth should sting when it exposes the lie. God isn’t the miser doling out affliction for your “growth”; He’s the Father who, through the Son, has already swapped curse for blessing, poverty for plenty. Abraham’s seed? That’s you, insider to the Contract, heir to the abundance; inheritor of Jesus who is the resurrection of life “now,” not just pie-in-the-sky later. To accept the robbery without a fight is to declare Jesus’ cross as ineffective, His resurrection a footnote. But no—His life is abundant, total, sevenfold-plus. Satan steals your speech? Jesus restores your shout of praise. He binds your back? You walk tall in dominion. He empties your coffers? You sow in faith and reap barns that burst.

Don’t let the thief define your story. Scripture interprets itself, originalist to the core, and it screams restoration over ruin. Start with the self-authenticating Word: Your faith saved you—from sin, from sickness, from scarcity. Confess it daily, relentlessly: “Satan, you robbed what was mine, but Jesus redeemed it sevenfold. I take it back now, in His name.” Command the mute spirit out, the bent frame straight, the empty hands full. Reality obeys faith, because the resurrected King backs your play. It’s not arrogance; it’s agreement with God, whose love to you, makes you worth the overpayment. And when the loot rolls in—health humming, wealth working, voice vibrating with victory—remember: This glorifies Him, who is the power, the love and the giver; not you. It’s the Father’s joy to lavish on sons who believe.

In this fallen farce of a world, where Satan still pickpockets the unwitting, be the one who turns the tables. Robbed of speech? Speak life. Robbed of strength? Stride bold. Robbed of substance? Scatter seed and watch the harvest mock the thief. Jesus didn’t come to commiserate; He came to compensate, to conquer, to crown the believer with triumph. By faith, you’ll save yourself from Satan’s steal. And in doing so, God boasts of you before the heavens, as the hero He always scripted you to be. No more victims in the kingdom. Only victors, voices restored, vaults replenished. That’s the gospel’s punchline—and it’s hilariously, eternally good.

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.

You Will Not Die But Live

A few years before COVID hit, Vincent Cheung had begun to publish more materials on faith. I therefore began to rethink and refocus on such topics. However, it was not until COVID that I fundamentally changed my lifestyle to seek God in a more devotional manner and with greater faith. God had warned me a few years prior, in a divine trance, that I was not internalizing the scripture in faith and inner strength, as I ought. Even after this, I was still somewhat blind to what that meant.

When COVID forced most of us homebound, I found myself stuck in my house. I remember I took the second COVID booster treatment. (I won’t linger on this other than to say, if you have faith, it doesn’t matter what you do. As long as you are not willfully testing God, in good conscience, you are free to do what you want—hey, faith isn’t a straitjacket, it’s freedom with a divine safety net.) However, I began to feel like I was half dead for a few weeks or months. At one point, I was standing in my living room, and I felt so bad I halfway passed out; I went blind, my veins and heart felt cold and slow, and I could barely breathe. Time slowed down. I felt like I had one foot in the grave.

I couldn’t even speak, but in my mind, I cried out to God to help me. I remembered there were dreams I had and prophecies about me that needed to be fulfilled. I immediately felt just enough strength flow into me that I pulled myself onto the chair, and I heard the Holy Spirit say, “You will not die, I will help you, I will restore you and strengthen you.”

At the time, I did not have health insurance, so going to the doctor wasn’t an option; but that was for the best. I had a better physician, after all—who needs co-pays when you’ve got the Creator on speed dial? The word spoken to me by the Spirit took the edge off any fear or worry I had. I felt bad for months afterward, but I slowly got better.

It was after that I changed my life every day to seek God in a more devotional way. I remember downloading the Joseph Prince app for my phone and starting my first devotional. I then signed up for Kenneth Copeland’s email daily devotional. I remember talking to myself, saying, “I can’t believe I am reading these guys!” The doctrine of God’s sovereignty is so easy, and you shouldn’t boast about knowing it as if it were a difficult thing to do. It is a doctrine no one can take from me. I say this to say, reading the faith teachers has zero chance of harming my understanding of God’s sovereignty. And this is exactly the issue. I knew God’s sovereignty, but I was not living in the joy and peace of the Spirit, and was not in the place where my prayers were answered as a common thing. I needed to grow in these areas. The Pentecostals and charismatics were too weak. The faith teachers were the only ones who did not qualify Jesus’ statements about faith.

When I was in my teenage years, I remember praying in tongues, and during this time I read and believed in the sovereignty of God (Romans 9) without anyone teaching me these doctrines. I was reminded I was at my best when the Spirit filled me with power. The faith teachers also reminded me how important praying in tongues is. And so I began to pray in tongues often. I began to speak out loud the promises of God over my life as faith confessions and declarations. I began to sing and praise God more and more. I renewed my commitment to go over my lists of promise verses, over and over. I began to listen to faith preachers preach on the topics of faith and miracles.

Within months, I saw a qualitative difference in my life. Before this, I would often go to sleep with stress and fears keeping me up. But now, all that negative stuff lifted off my mind, and I was sleeping like a baby—snoring optional, peace mandatory. When I prayed, I began to see more of my prayers answered. I noticed fewer doubts intruding in.

Before, my inner man was so weak, and all I knew was my own experience. When I prayed, I was filled with doubts and stress, and now with hindsight I recognize I was often being demonically harassed with force attacks (like how Vincent described it in “On Spiritual Attacks”). Satan was making me feel condemned, with a sense of dread and no way of escape. Godly fear can make you feel dread, but it will also show you the way out with hope, and the Holy Spirit saying “yes” to the promises of God applied to you.

When you read the Bible, you realize you should feel nothing but joy and peace and confidence when you ask God for something. Anything less than this, and there is something wrong or weak in your inner man—frankly, it’s like trying to run a marathon on spiritual spaghetti legs.

Over the following years, some of these old weaknesses or demons have tried to come back, but since I am stronger in my inner man, and I know how to take my authority in Jesus, I command them to leave, and they run with their tails stuck between their legs. See my essay, “Power is what will Finally Deliver You.” I do not claim to be perfect, nor am I to the point I want to be in power and faith, but having a stronger inner man (which is mostly measured by faith) has made a decisive difference in my life.

And it will do the same for you.

I am here to remind you, All is not lost. Renew your mind in faith and confidence in God’s good promises. Make your inner man strong. Know how much God loves you and has given to you. And when you pray, you will have what you ask, you have see what you confess, and you will process what you command in Jesus name.

You Cannot Earn Healing

Your sins or imperfect righteous actions don’t stop you from being healed. This statement needs some qualifications. For example, I hesitate to mention exceptions because people tend to fixate on them, but Paul says in 1 Corinthians that their gross disrespect for the Lord’s Supper was causing some to get sick and even death. Paul urges them to stop this and be healed. Thus, certain extreme levels of sin can bring sickness, and you need to stop sinning. However, even in this context, faith can still bring healing, even if you don’t stop sinning—but if you persist in sin, the sickness is likely to return, and the cycle repeats.

Take for example the man Jesus healed at the pool of Bethesda. Jesus said for him to stop sinning or something worse may happen. Thus, sin was the cause of his sickness, or the reason it did not leave. However, Jesus did not ask the man to repent or ask him to stop sinning before getting healed. No. Jesus only asked, “do you want to be healed?” He healed him for only wanting to be healed. No other qualifier was needed.  For true and permanent health, you need both to stop sinning and to have faith for healing. This is what true resisting the devil means. It is both to stop sinning (if applicable) and command him to leave, or command the sickness to leave. Ta

However, this is an exception. When you read the Gospels, Jesus heals every single person who approaches Him for healing. The only ones He couldn’t heal—or rather, the only ones who could stop God from healing—were those with unbelief. Think about the hundreds, if not thousands, of people lined up for healing. We read of large crowds, and all were healed. These were everyday people with sins like adultery, greed, lust, anger, envy, murder, laziness, and more. Yet, Jesus never stopped them and said, “You must repent first,” or “You must stop this sin first, then I’ll heal you.” Jesus never made them pay or earn their healing through effort, better self-righteousness, or money. Despite their sins and wickedness, Jesus healed them all—every single one.

Healing’s not a paycheck you earn—it’s a free gift from Jesus’ atonement, no sin-slaying resume required. Sure, Paul flagged gross sin like Lord’s Supper disrespect as a sickness trigger, but faith can still zap it, though sinning again might reboot the curse. In the Gospels, Jesus healed everyone—sinners, slackers, all—without a repentance pop quiz. Unbelief’s the only kryptonite

Jesus says, “If you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father.” This unqualified access to healing, without earning it through self-improvement, repentance, or greater holiness, reflects the Father’s heart. Think about this the next time you ask the Father to do something in Jesus’ Name.

Through Jesus Christ, I’ve given up on myself. My old sinful record, which the Father held against me in His mind, was removed and nailed to the cross. That’s not me anymore. In the old testament sacrifice, the priest examined the unblemished lamb, not person who did the sin. That was the whole point of an exchange. When the Father considers me, He examines the righteous Jesus Christ, and consider me in Him. The Father sees me in Jesus, as part of Jesus. Does Jesus have sin? Neither do I. Does the Father consider Jesus to have a sinful record? Neither does He consider me to have one. In the Father’s mind, Jesus is perfect righteousness, and so am I. This is my new reality—there’s no other reality for me.

Thus, I don’t need to earn more righteousness to be healed or receive a blessing from God any more than Jesus does. If you try to earn healing by your performance, you haven’t given up on yourself; you haven’t received Jesus’ righteousness. Your old man is still alive, and your new man is dead. A Christian is the opposite: the old man is dead, and we have a new man identified with Jesus. My sins, in relation to me, are as far as the east is from the west, yet many Christians speak of their sins as if they can still see them. Quit acting like they’re still photobombing your spiritual selfie. This is delusional nonsense because it’s impossible to see the east from the west.

Just as with every blessing provided by Jesus’ atonement, healing isn’t earned but freely received by grace through faith. There’s no other way. But why would you want another way? This is the good way—God’s way.

Tell It What You Want

“What I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”
(Acts 3:6)

 “Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and roll up your mat.”
(Acts 9:34)

“Stand up on your feet!”
(Acts 14:10)


Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done. 22 If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”
(Matt. 21:21)

The fig tree was a real fig tree, and it dried up when Jesus spoke to it. Jesus didn’t ask God; He spoke to the tree, and it died. It wasn’t a spiritual fig tree. Thus, the category is material or physical. When facing mountains in the material world, Jesus didn’t ask God for help but spoke directly to the problem. He then instructs the disciples to do the same: to speak to the mountain or problem and command it in faith, knowing God’s power will back their words. Jesus didn’t tell the disciples to inform God of their problem or mountain or to present a sad sob story about how bad it is. Rather, He said to speak to the problem and tell it what you want it to do.

After the baptism of the Spirit in the opening salvo of the Book of Acts, the disciples did just that. In Acts 3, Peter didn’t tell God how awful it must be for the cripple to suffer so long and beg God to find it in His will to heal the man. No. Peter spoke to the mountain or problem—sickness. He said, “What I have, I give.” It’s not what God has or what God gives. Peter declared the power to heal is what he has and what he gives. He then said, “In Jesus’ Name, walk.” He spoke to the mountain and told it what he wanted: “Walk.” This is exactly what Jesus instructed.

In Acts 9, Peter says, “Jesus heals you, get up.” Peter doesn’t tell God about the mountain of sickness; rather, he tells the sickness what he wants: “Get up.” Peter obeys Jesus’ instructions for interacting with material mountains and problems. In faith, tell them what you want them to do, whether it’s killing a tree, casting it into the sea, healing the sick, or telling a fish to bring you money.

In Acts 14, Paul looks at the mountain of sickness and speaks to it like Peter, saying, “Stand up on your feet!”

These commands are both spoken to the mountain and serve as instructions for the person to act on faith. Because they believe they are healed, then they need  to do something they couldn’t do before. This is integrated into speaking to the mountain of sickness. It’s a powerful way to administer healing.

God gave Moses the Staff of God. When they were backed against the sea, God told Moses to stop monologuing about His help and use the Staff of God to divide the sea. Thus, it was not God who divided the sea in the most direct sense, but Moses divided the sea, using God’s power. However, what we have is greater than the Staff of God. We have the name of Jesus Christ engraved on our tongues. We are part of Jesus and so we use His Name as our own.


Jesus didn’t whine to God about fig trees or mountains—He told them what to do, and they obeyed. In Acts, Peter and Paul channel that vibe, bossing sickness around like pros: “Walk!” “Get up!” “Stand!” No sob stories, just faith-fueled commands backed by Jesus’ name. Speak to your problem, not about it—whether it’s a tree, a mountain, or a coinless fish, tell it who’s boss and watch God’s power roll.

What Does It Say?

For Moses writes about the righteousness which is of law: “The man who does these things shall live by them.” 
But the righteousness of faith SPEAKS in this way:
“Do NOT SAY in your heart, ‘Who will go up into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down), or ‘Who will go down into the abyss?’ (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead).” 
But what does it SAY?
“The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart”
—that is, the WORD OF FAITH which we are preaching, that if you CONFESS with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved;  for with the heart a person believes, leading to righteousness, and with the mouth he CONFESSES, leading to salvation. 
For the Scripture says, “Whoever believes upon Him will not be put to shame.”
Romans 10:5-11

The Word of Faith actually does something. It confesses. It declares. It opens its mouth and lets the truth fly out loud. It’s not called the “thought of faith,” because the whole point is about saying and speaking it, not merely thinking it in some quiet mental corner. 

Paul’s immediate context here is all about righteousness and salvation. He points out that the Jews simply didn’t have the knowledge of God’s righteousness. Sure, the Old Testament had been talking about faith the whole time, but they disregarded it and tried to get righteous by their own sweat and effort instead.

Faith, in its most foundational definition, is just a mental assent to God’s word and promise. But in the Bible — take Abraham as the classic example — it was always a faith that spoke. It was spoken with bold confidence as if it were already true before it ever happened. Because of God, Abram called himself the father of many nations long before the son of promise ever arrived. 

God created us with a body, after all, and that body comes with a mouth. He didn’t design us to agree with the truth only in our heads; He wants us to speak it, sing it, declare it, and let it ring out. This is exactly what James is getting at when he says faith without works is dead. Speaking faith is honestly the smallest work you could possibly do — it’s the bare-bones minimum. It’s like Jesus’ parable about the money bags: the master told the last servant who hid the cash, “At the very least, you could have put my money in a bank and gotten interest.” Your words are that minimum deposit on the promise.

Faith is a mental agreement with everything God has commanded and spoken, whether it’s a historical fact or a sparkling promise of healing. But in the context of a promise — especially the gospel — you’re agreeing about something God has already promised, and in the gospel you’re agreeing it has already happened and been given to you. So in the gospel, faith often gets spoken in shorthand: Faith isn’t my love for God — it’s God’s love for me. Faith is confidence in God’s promise, not our ability. Faith is receiving God’s free supply by grace, not our performance. And faith is God giving to us, not us giving to God. 

Paul now expands on what faith really means when it comes to righteousness. The first thing faith speaks is to avoid saying the wrong thing altogether. He gives a crystal-clear example: Do not say in your heart, “Who will go up into heaven?” or “Who will go down into the abyss?” The point is simple. Since righteousness is freely given in the gospel, you don’t have to do a single thing to earn it. Jesus, as our Savior, was the Father’s plan from the start. By His own choice He went down, did all the hard work, and by the power of God He went back up. In the context of righteousness accomplished by Jesus, the first thing for faith to speak is a firm “Nope!” to any claim that you did something to make yourself righteous, healed, famous or rich. 

Next, Paul shows that faith has plenty of positive things to say. Because the gospel is already finished, faith isn’t just silent mental assent anymore — it’s a living Word of Faith that must be confessed out loud. Why the upgrade from heart to mouth? Because God did something massive for you, and you’re simply called to receive it. The smallest, bare-bones work to authenticate that faith is to open your mouth and declare it. That’s why Paul says you believe in your heart (leading to righteousness) but you also confess with your mouth (leading to salvation). This combo is what saves you. 

The biblical principle of first mentions takes us right back to Abraham. He believed and confessed he was the father of many nations before it ever happened, and by that spoken faith God freely credited righteousness to his account. Abraham didn’t work or earn it; it was pure unmerited favor. Think about it. He had to introduce himself as the Father of many Nations to his neighbors before he ever saw the promise fulfilled. Abraham is praised for his faith, and he’s the father of it all. His very name was a Word of Faith declaration! As true children of Abraham who claim to have faith, we also must live this Word of Faith lifestyle. 

The Bible shows the children of faith who followed Abraham also lived a “Word of Faith” that confessed and declared confidence in all the good things God promised. David’s Faith Spoke in front of the giant and crowds: “This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel” (1 Samuel 17:46 NIV). The Hebrews had a Word of Faith to the King of Babylon: “Our God will deliver us.” Joshua’s Faith Spoke: “Sun, be still.” Peter’s Faith Spoke this way: “What I do have I give to you: Walk, in the Name of Jesus.” There are many ways to say a Word of Faith. Like a child, a simple “thank you” or praise is all that’s needed for Faith to speak.

Abraham’s own Word of Faith was rock-solid confidence that God would perform all the good things He promised: healing, miracles, fame, riches, and every blessing. Galatians tells us the gospel was preached to Abraham — and that gospel was all about making him famous, rich, overly healthy, and powerfully blessed. God didn’t promise those things for Himself; He promised to do them for Abraham. Abraham believed God would make it happen, and God declared him righteous for believing every bit of that health, wealth, and fame. According to Paul, Scripture calls this the “gospel,” and the same gospel is now given to us through Jesus Christ. Through Abraham, God showed Himself as the Savior of the whole man — body, soul, and spirit. God is pleased when we look to Him as total Savior, and the more we ask for (health, wealth, favor), the more He supplies and the more He is glorified. Less glory for God means… well, less glory. 

The Word of Faith is this unshakable confidence in God’s word and promise. Faith sees what God promised as already given and deposited into our accounts, so it speaks, knowing the reality has already been set in stone. It’s like a parent who buys the exact gift their child has been wanting, wraps it, and places it right on the bed. The parent says, “I got you something special — it’s already on your bed.” The child’s eyes light up and they scream “Thank you!” because even though they haven’t unwrapped it yet, they know it’s already theirs. 

Vincent Cheung nails this in “Adventures of Jesus Christ,” echoing an illustration similar to what F.F. Bosworth taught in “Christ the Healer,” but with a sharper focus on the “already done” aspect. He writes, “When God tells you that a miracle will happen, believe it. When God promises to do a thing for you, accept that he will do it… The Bible says many things that are more than promises, but it tells you that something is already done. Imagine if I say to you, ‘I have put a present in your room.’ And you answer, ‘Well, you will do it if you want to.’ Would that not be silly? I told you that I have already done it, and that the present is already in your room, but you answer as if it is not yet done, and that you are not sure if it would happen at all. Again, it is like you think I have not said anything. It is like you are calling me a liar.” 

Yet some people still doubt that Jesus will forgive or heal them. That’s like the child saying, “I don’t believe you put a gift on my bed,” even though it’s sitting right there. It’s insulting — you’re calling God a liar after He’s already done it. Others try to sound humble: “Okay, I believe when you’re dead it’ll be in your will,” or “I’m not worthy to accept it.” None of the excuses work. All of them expose unbelief. 

Faith in your heart is how you know it was for you. You’re not saved by asking God to save you; you’re saved by confessing with thanksgiving that Jesus has already forgiven, healed, and prospered you. Peter told the crowd at Pentecost to “repent” and be saved — he didn’t say “ask to be saved.” Because forgiveness and righteousness have already happened, you repent knowing it’s finished. To ask God to forgive you and credit Jesus’ righteousness is like asking Him to re-crucify His Son. Faith receives something God has already given. 

There’s a reason the New Testament commands us to always give thanks, always sing songs and psalms to God. Thanksgivings, songs, and psalms are the constant voice of faith; they are word of faith confessions. Many Psalms are straight-up, Name It and Claim it, confessions. Let faith speak nonstop. Faith confessions are living activity of a born-again spirit; they make the inner man strong. They are your lifeblood, especially when eyes, feelings, and circumstances scream the opposite. Double down on the Word of Faith! 

Faith has a megaphone — it’s the Word of Faith shouting God’s done-deal promises. Abraham said He was the Daddy of Nations before the kid showed up, and God gave him a righteousness high-five that still echoes. Confess Jesus’ finished work — from healing to riches and everything in between.

Let faith speak!

Preaching is Casting Out Demons and Healing the Sick


15 “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” … 23 Just then a man in their synagogue who was possessed by an impure spirit…
32 That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed…
38 But Jesus replied, “We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came.” 39 So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons. 40 A man with leprosy came and knelt in front of Jesus. (Mark 1:15, 23, 32, 38-40 NLT)

A few quick observations:

After Jesus was anointed as a man by the Spirit for ministry, Mark shows His first church service and ministry involved casting out a demon. Scripture reminds us that judgment begins in the house of God. We are also reminded that churches can become safe houses for demons and prisons for the suffering when the faithless and powerless are in charge. Mark presents a sequence: Jesus declares the Kingdom has come, and His first church ministry is casting out the kingdom of demons, thereby ushering in God’s kingdom. If a space is filled with demons, it is occupied by the kingdom of darkness. The first step, then, is to remove them so the kingdom of God can replace it and take residence. That same evening, Mark shows Jesus continuing to cast out demons and heal the sick; this demonstrates how the kingdom of God comes “near us.”

The next observation comes from verses 38-40. Jesus declares He came to preach the gospel. What’s striking is how Mark defines “preaching” in the following verse. It begins with “therefore” or “so,” implying a necessary consequence of the previous statement. Because Jesus was sent to preach, He went to the next town to “preach and cast out demons.” Mark equates preaching with casting out demons, as if they are inseparable. We’re not saying preaching and casting out demons have identical definitions—nor is Mark. However, Mark is defining the ministry of preaching, which is tied to bringing the Kingdom of God near, as preaching with miracles. Preaching the gospel that brings the Kingdom near, cannot be separated from casting out demons and healing the sick. The next verse reinforces this with a leper being healed. As Paul says, “For the kingdom of God does not consist in words but in power.” Preaching proclaims the power of God unto salvation, which requires the very power it proclaims. To Mark and Jesus, preaching that the Kingdom of God has come near isn’t preaching unless demons are cast out and the sick are healed.

Churches with benches full of depressed and demonized people, or sick members who return week after week unchanged, are churches where the kingdom of God has not come near.

“Mark’s Jesus doesn’t just preach with a mic—he kick drops demons and heals the hurting like it’s all part of the sermon. If your church is a demon daycare and the sick leave sicker, maybe the kingdom’s still social-distancing,” (Grok xAi 2025 summary).

The Correction of Righteousness

“And when [the Holy Spirit] comes, he will convict the world of its sin, and of God’s righteousness, and of the coming judgment. The world’s sin is that it refuses to believe in me. Righteousness is available because I go to the Father, and you will see me no more. Judgment will come because the ruler of this world has already been judged,” John 16:8-11 NLT

Picture this: Jesus ascends to the Father like the VIP He is, and the Holy Spirit swoops down to earth like a divine fact-checker, ready to set the record straight on sin, righteousness, and judgment. Jesus even gives us the SparkNotes version of each.

First up, “the” sin of the world—singular, folks—is that people refuse to buy what God’s revealing, especially the whole “Jesus is God’s Son” revelation.

Second, the cosmic swap meet—our sin for Jesus’ righteousness—went down at the atonement, but the official press release? That hit when Jesus rose and got the VIP seat at the Father’s right hand of Power. This was the courtroom gavel slam declaring that everyone Jesus died for is now rocking the “Righteousness of God” title. And trust me, it’s not because of our stellar résumé—God’s the one with the authority, power, and dominion here. The law’s DIY righteousness kit? Total flop, thanks to its pesky human origins.

Third, judgment. Salvation’s a two-parter (we will only focus on the first aspect), Judgment. This is like storming the gates, with guns blazing, to free your enslaved loved one by taking out the bad guys. Exhibit A: Israelites wading through the Red Sea while Pharaoh’s army gets a watery goodbye. Exhibit B: Jesus on the cross, shredding Satan’s accusation privileges (Revelation 12:10) and teleporting us from the devil’s grip (Colossians 1:13) to His kingdom. Greater is Jesus in me than that cosmic loser out there. By judging and trashing Satan’s works, Jesus pulls off the ultimate rescue mission. Jesus vs Satan in this context, is the archetype of Hero vs villain. Jesus won. Pharaoh’s army drowned while Israel was delivered; Satan’s power was broken while humanity was redeemed. This frames judgment not as something believers fear but as something already accomplished on their behalf, securing their freedom. We’re free, because our enemy’s toast.

Now, let’s get to the juicy bit. Jesus dropped this as a mic-drop moment for the whole sinful world, but if you’re already “born-from-above”—congratulations, you’re in the club—what’s this mean for us? We’ve already had our sin epiphany, repented, got the forgiveness stamp, and unlocked the power to heal sickness and evict demons like it’s our day job. So, what’s the Spirit correcting now?

For believers, who have already accepted Jesus, the sin of unbelief no longer defines them. Instead, the Spirit’s role shifts to a positive correction—reminding them of their new reality in Christ. 2 Corinthians 5:21, “Paul writes, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (NLT).

The big idea: if you’re already God’s righteousness, the Spirit isn’t here to wag a finger and say, “You’re not righteous, you naughty thing.” No, He’s correcting you when you forget you’re basically divine royalty and start moping around like a spiritual peasant. The word “convict” here means “correct”—when you’re off-the-mark. Pre-salvation, the Spirit was all, “Yikes, you’re a mess.” Post-salvation? It’s, “Honey, you’re dazzling—act like it.” The correction’s positive now, a holy hype session. You’re not seeing yourself as the perfect, glorious righteousness of God? That’s what He’s fixing.

Romans 8:1 declares, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

If you’re saved and still hearing a naggy voice droning on about how sinful you are, newsflash: that’s not God. It’s either Satan doing his accusatory shtick or you secretly loving a good self-pity party. Sure, the Word’s a sharp sword—ouch, it’ll call out sinful behavior when you’ve been sinful. But that’s about your actions. The Spirit’s correction we’re vibing on here? It’s about your shiny new reality in Jesus. He is correcting our vision when we forget our royal status as co-heirs with Jesus. It’s a call to live boldly from that identity He’s whispering (or shouting, if you’re stubborn) in our hearts, “You’re perfect, righteous, glorious—a prince of heaven! So why are you slumming it with sin? It’s beneath you.” You’re righteous, so act righteous. You’re heaven’s VIP, not some back-alley chump chatting up thieves and creeps. You’re a co-heir with Jesus—stop rummaging in human resources’ dumpster and cash that check from heaven’s bank account: withdrawing from “heaven’s bank account” for all the good things Jesus has already give to you by grace.

That’s the Spirit’s vibe today. So, double-check the voice you’re tuning into—it better be the Spirit’s, not some sleazeball demon with a guilt trip agenda.

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[Grok (xAI), 2025. Proofreading, copyediting, and stylistic enhancements.]