Tag Archives: answered

Stay At the Foot Of The Cross

To stay at the foot of the cross is to functionally deny the Resurrection and the Ascension. “Gospel-centered” movements? Come on—they’re straight-up theological gaslighting dressed in pious robes. They use shiny Christian lingo to trap believers in spiritual poverty and powerlessness, like it’s some noble virtue. The “Gospel” isn’t a dusty historical biography of a dead man hanging on a tree. It’s the current, active decree of an enthroned King who’s very much alive and ruling right now. A theology that fixates on the bloody mess of Calvary while ignoring the present “occupied throne” is nothing more than a dead man’s religion. It’s like showing up to the victory party and obsessing over the scar from the battle that was already won—comical, if it weren’t so tragic.

Scripture never leaves us stranded at the cross. The doorway of the gospel is of first importance, because you cannot enter the King’s house and dine at His table without the doorway, but it is not the whole house and it is not the table. Jesus is not on the cross. He is sitting at the throne; He is seated at the table and has given us good things there. To receive you must meet His eyes at the throne, or that is, at the table and partake. You cannot have a relationship with Jesus on the cross because He is not there. How more obvious can that be. He is presently at the throne, and the throne is part of the gospel: without it there is no gospel. The gospel is you presently engaging Jesus on the throne, walking boldly to Him on the throne as your daily fellowship with Him. Without this you have no gospel and you mock the crucifixion of Jesus as ineffective. The gospel is a packaged deal; it is both the finished cross and the present ruling Jesus on the throne pouring out the Spirit’s power and answered prayers.  

The New Testament writers were obsessed with the throne, because the throne passage was their number one quoted O.T. passage, not the tomb. Cross-centered? That’s the entry door for newbies. Throne-centered? That’s full armor—advancing the Kingdom with miracles, healings, and unshakeable faith. Jesus isn’t still bleeding on a hill. He’s seated, victorious, and inviting you to rule with Him. Stop camping at the cross and start reigning from the throne. To stay at the cross is a dead man’s religion and a zombie theology. The King is alive. You cannot talk to a corpse, but Jesus is on the throne.

If Christ is enthroned and we are “seated with Him” (Ephesians 2:6), then the benefits of the atonement—including physical healing and material provision—aren’t optional extras or “maybe someday” blessings. They are your legal rights as a co-heir, paid for in full. Jesus became sin so you could become righteousness. He became a curse so you could walk in blessing. He bore your sicknesses so you could walk in divine health. He became poor so you could be rich. That’s  Isaiah 53, 2 Corinthians 5:21, Galatians 3:13-14, and 2 Corinthians 8:9 screaming at us from the page. The cross-centered crowd loves to weaponize the suffering of Calvary as a shield to protect unbelief. By obsessing over the bloody tree they explain away zero miracles, unanswered prayers, and powerless Christianity as “God’s sovereign will to suffer.” Doctrine of demons, plain and simple. It’s a sophisticated way to remain an atheist while still using Christian vocabulary—trading the tangible power of the living Christ for historical sentimentality and a permanent pity party.

Look at the exchange the Father made in the atonement and you will see why the throne must be our center. Isaiah 53 does not stop at forgiveness of sins; it explicitly includes healing in the same breath: “He took up our pain and bore our suffering… by his wounds we are healed.” It is quote in Matthew 8 as referring to physical healing not spiritual. Paul picks up the identical logic in the New Testament and applies it without hesitation. “He who did not spare his own Son… will he not also graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). All things. Not some things. Not spiritual things only. The full package was purchased at the cross so it could be released from the throne. Jesus became poor so that through his poverty we might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). He redeemed us from the curse of the law so that the blessing of Abraham—blessing in every area—might come on us (Galatians 3:13-14). To camp at the cross and call that “deep theology” is to rip the completion and effectiveness out of the gospel and then wonder why the power is missing. The resurrection proves the payment was accepted. The ascension proves the payment is now being disbursed from the right hand of Majesty. The throne is where the King sits and hands out the spoils of victory to His co-heirs.

The Lord’s Supper itself presupposes we are throne-centered. Jesus instituted it after the resurrection, not before. He broke the bread and poured the cup as the risen Lord, then told us to remember Him this way until He comes. The table is not at the foot of the cross; the table is spread in the presence of the enthroned King. You do not crawl to the table on your knees begging for crumbs while staring at a corpse. You sit down as a son, look the King in the eye, and partake of the finished work. The doorway (the cross) got you in, but the table is where relationship and provision happen. To keep your eyes glued to the doorway while the King is calling you to the table is spiritual insanity. It is like refusing to leave the foyer of a mansion because you are emotionally attached to the front door. That’s not merely immaturity, it is a slap in the face to the host.

This is why the New Testament writers could not stop talking about the throne. Hebrews spends chapter after chapter showing Jesus as the great high priest who has passed through the heavens and sat down at the right hand of God. Paul tells the Ephesians that God raised us up with Christ and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms so that we might display the incomparable riches of His grace. The same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated Him far above every rule and authority is now at work in us who believe (Ephesians 1:19-23). That power is power for here and now. It is the same Spirit that raised Jesus, the same Spirit that healed the sick through the early church, the same Spirit that is available right now to every believer who will believe. Faith is not a feeling. Faith is mental assent to what God has already said and already done. When you assent to the throne reality, you receive the benefits the throne releases.

Cross-fixation is vile precisely because it turns the greatest victory in history into an excuse for defeat. It takes the blood that purchased total salvation and uses it to justify half-salvation. It takes the empty tomb and pretends the tomb is still occupied. It takes the ascension and acts as though Jesus is still hanging in the air. Such theology does not honor the cross; it dishonors the One who left the cross. The cross was the doorway. The resurrection was the victory parade. The ascension was the coronation. The throne is the present reality. To live anywhere else is to live in functional denial of the gospel.

So stop the pity party at the foot of the cross. The King is alive. The table is spread. The benefits are yours by legal right. Healing is received by the same faith that received forgiveness. Provision is received by the same faith. Every promise of the new contract is received by the same faith. Do not limit God. Believe what He has already declared from the throne, confess it with your mouth, and watch reality obey the word of the King who sits there. The gospel is not a dead man’s religion. It is the power of an endless life flowing from an occupied throne. And for those who have received the free gift Jesus’ righteousness and unmerited favor, here and now, they also reign in life with Him from the position at the right hand of the Power.

 Resisting What Christ Bore

In the arena of faith, where God’s sovereign decrees clash with the feeble whispers of human doubt, Kenneth Copeland’s declaration rings out: “Whatever He bore on the cross we resist!” Amen to that. If we truly grasp the substitutionary atonement of Christ, we’d be fools—nay, anti-Christs in spirit—to promote or tolerate the very curses Jesus shredded His flesh to annihilate. But let’s clarify the battlefield here, lest we swing our swords at shadows. Jesus didn’t die to destroy healing, prosperity, the baptism of the Spirit, the blessing of Abraham, or answered prayers. No, He bore the opposites: sickness, poverty, spiritual drought, the curse of the law, and unanswered cries under bondage. These blessings are the spoils of His victory, already deeded to us in the unmerited contract of grace. To resist what He bore means we stand firm against sickness, lack, demonic oppression, and doubt, claiming by faith what His blood purchased. Anything less is epistemological treason against the revealed Word of God.

We start with the presupposition that God’s revelation is the infallible starting point for all knowledge (2 Timothy 3:16-17). If Scripture is truth and is self-authenticating, says all others are wrong and non-contradictory, then its claims on atonement must logically extend to all aspects of salvation—spiritual, physical, and material. Begin with Isaiah 53:4-5: “Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried… By His scourging we are healed.” Here, “griefs” and “sorrows” translate to sicknesses and pains in the Hebrew, as Matthew 8:17 confirms when Jesus heals the sick to fulfill this prophecy. If Christ bore our sicknesses on the cross, then sickness is not our portion; we resist it as an intruder, an enemy defeated at Calvary. To accept illness as “God’s will” is to call God a liar, for His Word declares the exchange complete. Jesus took the stripes so we could walk in health—why hug the curse when the blessing is ours? We are to look at being sick as the same as we look at committing adultery, murder or theft.

Extend this logic to prosperity. 2 Corinthians 8:9 states, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich.” Christ’s poverty on the cross wasn’t metaphorical fluff; it was substitutionary. He who owned the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10) became destitute to enrich us. The blessing of Abraham, promised in Galatians 3:13-14—”Christ redeemed us from the curse of the Law… so that we would receive the promise of the Spirit through faith”—includes material abundance. Abraham was loaded with wealth (Genesis 13:2), and as his heirs, we’re entitled to the same covenant overflow. Poverty? That’s what Jesus bore. We resist poverty by faith, just as we resist committing sin. We confess provision as per Philippians 4:19: “My God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” If God’s sovereignty decrees abundance for His elect (Ephesians 1:3-14), then lack is a thief’s lie (John 10:10). Satan steals to devour, but we reclaim it, slamming his face into the dirt with Holy Spirit power.

Now, the baptism of the Spirit—oh, how the reprobate trash mocks this! Acts 2:38-39 commands: “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off, as many as the Lord our God will call to Himself.” This isn’t optional swag; it’s the empowerment for greater works (John 14:12). Jesus bore the separation from the Spirit in Gethsemane and on the cross (Matthew 27:46), so we could be immersed in His presence. Praying in tongues distinguishes the elect from the mockers (Jude 1:18-21), building up our inner man (1 Corinthians 14:4) and channeling unstoppable power (Acts 1:8). To resist the Spirit’s baptism is to embrace the dryness Jesus endured for us. No, we claim it, speaking mysteries that edify and propel us into the place where miracles are as common as silver in the streets of Solomons reign.

And answered prayers? Mark 11:23-24: “Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him. Therefore, I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.” Jesus bore the unanswered cries of the cursed (the silence under the law’s bondage), so we could have bold access to the throne (Hebrews 4:16). Doubt and unbelief are what we resist—those fleshly thoughts that prioritize observations over revelation (Romans 8:6). If empiricism says “no healing yet,” we deductively retort: Scripture trumps senses, for the just live by faith, not sight (2 Corinthians 5:7).

But here’s where the rubber meets the road: We’d be anti-Christs if we promoted the curses Jesus destroyed. Imagine preaching sickness as humility or poverty as piety—that’s spitting on the cross! Galatians 3:13 declares redemption from the curse, which Deuteronomy 28 lists as disease, famine, defeat. Promoting these as “God’s refining fire” is worldview prostitution, swapping biblical epistemology for carnal empiricism. Defective epistemologies like empiricism lead to skepticism and death, while faith from Scripture yields life and power. God sovereignly decrees salvation’s total package for His elect (Romans 9:21-23), and faith assents to it, making all things possible (Mark 9:23).

Consider Moses with the Staff of God (Exodus 4:20). God gave him power, but at the Red Sea, Moses whined instead of wielding it (Exodus 14:13-16). God snapped: “Why are you crying out to Me? Tell the sons of Israel to go forward. As for you, lift up your staff!” Deduction: God cares for us by empowering us; and so, begging when we are armed, is faithlessness. Similarly, Jesus gave disciples authority over storms (Mark 4:35-41), yet they accused Him of not caring. He rebuked their “no faith,” for the power was already ours, Psalms 91 already applies to us. Today, we have the name of Jesus, the Spirit’s baptism—why tolerate what He bore?

We are to command restoration in faith, for Joel 2:25 promises God will repay the years the locust ate. Sickness stolen? Command healing. Finances plundered? Declare prosperity. The opposite of what Jesus bore—health, wealth, empowerment—is ours to bless us. They are already deeded in the New Covenant (Hebrews 9:15-17), activated by faith confession (Romans 10:9-10).

Yet, the heresy hunters scoff, calling this “name it and claim it” blasphemy. They’re the reprobates, not having the Spirit (Jude 1:19), distinguishing themselves by mocking tongues and miracles.  Tongues is the litmus test—edifying the inner man, keeping us in God’s love. Cessationists resist the Spirit Jesus poured out, promoting a powerless gospel; they lift up their skirts and expose themselves as faithless.

Brothers and sisters, whatever He bore—sin, sickness, poverty, curse—we resist with faith (Matthew 11:12). We preach the blessings of Jesus Christ: Healing flows, prosperity abounds, Spirit baptizes, Abraham’s favor multiplies, prayers avalanche answers. They are yours—already. Do not fear, only believe.