Tag Archives: Christ

Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority 

One of the major things God promised Abraham was to make “his” name great—not just to hype His own fame (though Abraham’s elevation would glorify God too). “I will make your name great,” the Lord straight-up declared (Genesis 12:2). Boom. Direct promise. No footnotes, no fine print about waiting until heaven. Right there in the covenant, God hands Abraham a destiny of renown that the world would notice. 

Through the Gospel of Jesus Christ—who took our curse upon Himself and redeemed us from it (Galatians 3:13)—we’ve inherited that exact same Abraham package! Christ became our curse, as a substitute, to give us the gospel of Abraham. The full Gospel isn’t just forgiveness of sins (which is more technically the doorway to the gospel); it includes God making “your” name famous on the earth. Fame, favor, and footprint are baked into the blessing of Abraham we now own by faith. In Systematic Theology 2025 I lay this out plainly: the Abrahamic blessings convey much health, prosperity, and favor—tangible, visible realities that display God’s power through the lives of His elect. You don’t get the half-gospel of sin-forgiveness alone and call it complete. The Spirit and miracles were part of the promise preached to Abraham (Galatians 3:14), and that promise lands squarely on us who believe. 

Dying unknown, in total obscurity and absurdity? That’s no holy humility badge—that’s a curse straight out of Satan’s playbook. It’s the ministry of his dark priesthood, the thief who comes to steal your fame, rob your health and wealth, kill your destiny, and destroy your impact (John 10:10). He loves keeping you small so the world never sees the Royal Priesthood in you. Let’s be honest: some folks wear “I’m just a nobody” like a merit badge, but the Bible never calls obscurity a virtue. It calls it defeat. Satan’s strategy is simple—keep the heirs of Abraham hidden so the nations never see what the living God can do through flesh-and-blood people. 

As Vincent Cheung points out in Our Prosperity in God’s Program, “Receive things from God for your own benefit. If it stops there, God is honored because he has blessed one person. You can then consciously participate in the expansion of the kingdom of God. However, even if you do not concern yourself with the situation any further, you will naturally further God’s program. He will take this and increase the effect to benefit more people and to magnify himself with it. Just by receiving from God for yourself, more and more, again and again, you will do more for God than the counterfeit Christians who seem to suffer much for their religion, but who refuse to receive from God and forbid others to receive. They hinder the gospel and bring shame to the name of Jesus.”

Even if we were only focused on our own fame, by faith in Jesus, it will always have indirect effects in magnifying God’s kingdom. Thus, it is good to seek the fame God promised in Abraham’s gospel, when it is given to us in Jesus’ gospel. The gospel preached to Abraham was about his fame, his wealth, his health and him being highly favored in all he did, and not God’s. The gospel has many aspects about it that are concerned with your fame and increase, not God’s. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 2:7, the gospel was predestined for your glory. Because we deny pantheism, thus, directly referring to these aspects of the gospel that help, increase and bless the elect, the gospel is for our glory not God’s. Now of course God has designed it so that our glory and increase ultimately glorifies God. But the point remains. The gospel makes you famous. This is gospel. Without it you don’t have the gospel. 

Once you are walking in faith, health, wealth, answered prayers and miracles, you will find you stop thinking about yourself, because you are doing so well, and all fear and stress to climb up are gone, and this freedom will lead you to show compassion and help others. Seeing your own heart’s desires come into reality will help and free you to say, “God you have blessed me so much, I want to more directly focus on expanding your Kingdom against the remaining darkness. How can I help?” The point is simple. Simply by receiving the good things promised, such as health and wealth, you expand God’s kingdom. Anything done in faith, no matter what it is, establishes God’s kingdom more and more. On this point alone, receiving miracle health and miracle money for yourself still establishes God’s kingdom. 

By seeking your own fame and increase in faith, you directly bless yourself, your family and friends. This is why I remind us: How little the faithless value the Gospel and God Himself. They think so small of themselves and then force the promises of God through the tiny pinhole of their limited self-view. But newsflash—you are “not” the measurer of reality. God and His promises are! 

We must measure our ability and destiny by God’s Word and our new identity in Christ Jesus: Abraham’s seed, co-heirs with the King, destined for greatness. God will boast about you. Publicly. He doesn’t whisper your victories in secret; He puts them on display so the nations tremble and the devil flees. Stop playing small, saints. Let the Father boast about you. Step boldly into the fame He promised and make some divine power plays for His glory! 

Look, I get the pushback. Some twisted cross-centered types act like wanting your name known is selfish. Funny how they never apply that logic to wanting their sins forgiven or their bodies healed. Selective humility is just pride wearing a fake halo. The same God who said “I will make your name great” to Abraham is the God who predestined the gospel for our glory (1 Corinthians 2:7). He didn’t stutter. He didn’t say “I’ll make your name great after you spend eighty years anonymous and broke.” No—He redeemed us from the curse so the blessing of Abraham could come on the Gentiles by faith. That blessing includes the kind of visible success that makes people ask, “Who is this God they serve?” 

Think about Joseph for a second. Sold into slavery, falsely accused, forgotten in prison—yet God elevated him until the whole nation knew his name. Why? Because God works all things for our good, not for our obscurity (Romans 8:28, that promise is laser-focused on the elect who walk in faith). The devil meant it for evil; God meant it for good—and that good included fame, favor, and footprint that fed nations and preserved the covenant line. Same pattern with David. Same pattern with Esther. Same pattern with every hero of faith listed in Hebrews 11. They obtained a good report—meaning their names rang out—because they believed God for the impossible. 

So when you confess the promises, when you command sickness to leave, when you decree increase in Jesus’ name, you are being “name-it-and-claim-it,” just as Abraham did when he confessed, “I am the father of many nations,” before he was. You’re being Christians; you are being like Abraham the father of faith. The gospel isn’t a call to pretend you’re insignificant; it’s a call to realize you’re significant because of whose you are. Co-heirs with Christ means you inherit the same package. And yes, the ultimate goal is God’s glory—but God’s glory shines brightest when His kids aren’t hiding under a bushel. 

Here’s the fun part most miss: the moment you start walking in the fullness—miracle money showing up, miracle health locking in, doors flying open—you actually stop obsessing over yourself. The fear evaporates. The scramble disappears. You find it easier to not think about yourself. Suddenly you’ve got bandwidth to look around and say, “Okay, Lord, who also needs this same freedom?” That’s when the kingdom multiplies. One blessed life becomes ten, then a hundred, and then a million. Satan hates that math. He’d rather you stay “humble” and broke so the world never sees the difference Jesus makes. 

I’m not suggesting you chase fame for fame’s sake like some carnal influencer. I’m saying chase the promises like Abraham did—by faith—and watch God handle the rest. He’s the one who swore it. He’s the one who sealed it with blood. And He’s the one who will make your name great so that His name is magnified through you. 

The faithless will keep shrinking the gospel down to fit their tiny expectations. Don’t join them. Measure everything by the Word. You are Abraham’s seed. You carry royal blood. The Father is ready to boast about you—publicly, powerfully, permanently. So step up, speak up, and let the world see what the gospel really does. Fame, favor, footprint—yours for the taking.

Fully Faithless

Mike Winger posted on Facebook, March 27, 2026: 

“Jesus never promised us prosperity in this world.

He promised tribulation and His peace through it.”

That’s half-true and fully faithless. Full-On Faith Fail.

 Yes, Jesus said, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33). But faithless preachers pounce on that single line like it’s the whole sermon and then ghost the rest of what He actually said: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace… But take courage; I have overcome the world.” They turn victory into a defeatist bumper sticker. They recite the problem and call it the promise. That’s not preaching the gospel — that’s dressing up a gospel of suffering in fake humility and calling it deep. 

As Vincent Cheung nailed it in “In This World, We Will Have Victory” (paraphrased): “Jesus didn’t emphasize suffering. He emphasized triumph. The mention of tribulation was only to provide context for the victory. The statement would substantially mean the same thing if He had simply said, ‘In this world, you will have victory,’ or ‘Have courage, for I have overcome the world.’ He even commanded ‘take courage’ so no one could miss the point. Yet these guys camp out on the negative like it’s their favorite doctrine.

Jesus never said, “In the world you will have tribulation — now get used to it, embrace your broke-down car and doctor bills, and call your lack ‘godly suffering.’” No. He sandwiched the tribulation between two massive pillars of victory: peace in Him and courage because He has already overcome the world. The tribulation gets mentioned only to be swallowed alive by the triumph — like a thousand-dollar parking ticket obliterated by a three-trillion-dollar inheritance. To dwell on the negative isn’t humility; it’s rebellion. It’s the reprobate hermeneutic — the perverse habit of faithless religion that seizes problems and ignores promised solutions.” 

And here’s the fun part (because faith should feel victorious, not like a never-ending rain check): Jesus did promise prosperity — real, tangible, this-life prosperity — through His substitutionary atonement. “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” (2 Corinthians 8:9). That’s not spiritual poetry. That’s cold, hard cash, health, victory, and abundance. 

God has always been the God of overflow: from Eden’s garden party, to Abraham’s gospel of blessing, to Jesus redeeming us from the curse so we walk in the blessing of Abraham (Galatians 3:13-14). Abraham wasn’t scraping by — he was exceedingly wealthy. The curse included poverty, sickness, and defeat. The blessing is the exact opposite. Boom. 

To say “He never promised us prosperity” is to hate the very nature of the Father who gives lavishly. It’s to call the atonement incomplete. It’s to romanticize suffering the way unbelievers do — turning the cross into an excuse for why your miracles are MIA. That’s a doctrine of demons. The cross was substitutionary so “we” wouldn’t have to carry what Jesus already carried. Only *His* suffering was romantic, because it was purposeful. Ours is usually just the rotten fruit of unbelief. 

Vincent Cheung reminds us in “Our Prosperity in God’s Program” (paraphrased): “Your suffering often hinders God’s program from moving forward. When you suffer, you cause others to suffer. But when God’s people succeed by faith — praying shamelessly for whatever they need and want — His program advances. God succeeds when His people succeed. Refusing prosperity inflicts damage on multitudes. It is stupid.”

Look at 3 John 2: “Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.” The apostle John, under the Holy Spirit, doesn’t merely wish it — he presents it as the normal expectation for souls prospering in truth. Psalm 35:27 says God takes pleasure in the prosperity of His servant. Deuteronomy 28 lists blessings of cities, fields, livestock, children, and victory over enemies as covenant inheritance. Jesus Himself declared, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). The Greek ”perissos” means superabundant, excessive, overflowing. Not pie-in-the-sky afterlife stuff. Life “now,” in the power of the resurrected Christ. 

You’ll twist the Bible to call poverty and sickness “holy” and a “badge of honor.” That’s the seeker-friendly gospel of suffering — it gaslights deprivation as devotion and trains people to feel spiritual through misery. It is perverse. It is a conspiracy against the promises of God. 

Tribulation comes? Sure. From the world, the flesh, and the devil. But the believer doesn’t park there like it’s a scenic overlook. We cheer in the middle of it because faith treats God’s promise as already done — like the walls of Jericho crumbling while we’re still marching and high-fiving. Peace isn’t stoic endurance through endless loss; peace is Satan crushed under our feet now (Romans 16:20). The Christian life is victory from faith to faith, glory to glory, prosperity to prosperity. Anything less is unbelief wearing a fake halo. 

When Jesus sent out the disciples, He commanded them to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, and cast out demons (Matthew 10:8). That commission has not been revoked. The same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead lives in every believer (Romans 8:11), and He is not on vacation. To claim God wants His people perpetually sick, broke, or oppressed “for His glory” is to blaspheme the Father who “gives good gifts” (Matthew 7:11) and who delights in the prosperity of His servant. Jesus didn’t say we would do less works than Him, but greater. 

God is sovereign over all things, including tribulation. But sovereignty doesn’t mean He authors defeat as the Christian default. Sovereignty means He controls even the attacks of the enemy and turns them for our good (Romans 8:28). Faith is not passive endurance of misery; faith is the active insistence on what God has promised. When tribulation hits — and it will — our response isn’t to quote “Jesus never promised prosperity” like a spiritual participation trophy. Our response is to stand on the full counsel of God and declare, “Because He has overcome the world, I will prosper in all things and be in health, just as my soul prospers.” 

This is why Winger’s half-truth is so sneaky. It offers “peace through tribulation” while quietly pickpocketing the very promises that make that peace possible. Without the promises of prosperity, healing, and victory, “peace through tribulation” becomes mere fatalism — the peace of the graveyard, not resurrection power. It is zombie theology. True biblical peace is the peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7), the peace that guards our hearts because we have made our requests known to God with thanksgiving, believing He gives us what we ask. 

So no, Mike — Jesus didn’t promise us a life of managed disappointment and “peace through it.” He promised us the overcoming life, the abundant life, the rich life — because that’s what His blood purchased. Reject that and you’re not being humble. You’re rejecting the gospel itself. Receive it by faith or keep preaching defeat. There’s no third option. 

Winger’s line is popular because it flatters the flesh. It lets Christians stay spiritual babies, blaming “God’s will” for their lack instead of repenting of unbelief. It sounds humble: “I don’t expect much from God in this life.” Scripture calls that cowardice, not humility. The humble man believes what God has said, no matter how great. The proud man limits God to fit his experience. 

If you’ve been living under this half-truth, it’s time to repent. Stop quoting only the tribulation part like it defines your destiny. Start quoting the victory part as the definition of your identity in Christ. “In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” That overcoming includes prosperity for the advance of your own joy and the kingdom, healing for your own happiness and the display of His mercy, and peace the world cannot give or take away.  The gospel was predestined for your glory.

This is the gospel I preach. This is the faith I defend. Anything less is not the faith once for all delivered to the saints. Let the half-truths be exposed. Let the full truth of Scripture be proclaimed. And let every believer rise up in the name of the Overcomer, prospering in all things for the glory of God. 

Now go confess it, pray in tongues till it burns, and watch the mountains move.

Why Are You Afraid?

It was a real storm. Waves crashing over the boat. Disciples thinking, “We’re toast.” Jesus? Snoozing like it’s nap time. They wake Him in panic: “Lord, save us! We’re drowning!”

His reply? “Why are you afraid? You have so little faith!”

Then one word from Jesus and the wind and waves shut their mouths. Dead calm.

Humanly speaking, from a starting point of empirical observation, yeah, fear made sense. However, it only makes sense if you are without God and your worldview is human limitations based on human observation. But here’s the punchline they missed—and we can miss too if we are not watchful: you’re not just human anymore. That old man is dead and gone. You’re a child of God, blessed with Abraham’s blessing (Galatians 3:13-14), baptized into the same authority Jesus carried. You carry the Name that makes demons flee, sickness bow, and creation obey. That changes everything.

Picture it: you look up and a tornado is dropping on your house. You cry out, “God, help! Can’t You see I’m about to die?!” And Jesus opens a window to heaven and looks you dead in the eye—in front of your family and friends—and says, “Bro… why are you afraid? Don’t you have any faith?”

Ouch. Here is a question. Would you still follow Him if He rebuked you like this? I mean, Jesus didn’t even acknowledge your intense feelings; rather, Jesus was dismissive of them as stupid. The man Jesus is telling you to calm your emotions down. He says your faith is pathetic; and it is the cause of your fear. Because He’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. That same rebuke is also coming to you when you face a deadly storm or deadly whatever it is. He’s not being frank for mean’s sake—He’s reminding you of your identity in Him.

Here is the kicker. This is before the book of Acts, where we see the matured Peter, baptized in the Spirit and knowing his true identity in the enthroned Jesus, not merely the earthly Jesus, saying in Acts 3, “What I do have, I give, in the Name of Jesus. Get up.” He had the privilege, not as an apostle but as a believer, to use Jesus’ name to do what he so wanted. It was something Peter had and could give as he so wanted. But in the context of the storm, it is before the enthroned Jesus and the baptism of the Spirit. So what was Jesus presupposing to rebuke them for fear?

Psalm 91 specifically says that those who are hidden with God are not to have any fear. The Psalm lists all sorts of dangers and saying you are not to be afraid of them, then gives a situation like a bomb goes off and ten thousand dead bodies surround you, and even this is nothing to fear because God will protect you. The Psalm is not saying for you to bear the pain and destruction of the thing you fear, under the hand of God. No, it confesses you will be protected from them and nothing will touch you.

However, what we have in Jesus, in His promises to ask anything and get it, to do greater works, to speak to mountains and make them obey us, and the baptism of the Spirit with Jesus sitting at the right hand of power is greater.

Jesus’ presupposition is average, not wild: He expects you to stand up, speak to that “deadly” thing, and tell it to chill out and shut up. Because you’re special, a co-heir with Jesus and a royal priest with royal authority to use Jesus’ authority; because the promises already belong to you. Faith isn’t wishful thinking—it is agreeing with God that protection is your legal right to command the mountains to bow.

So next time the waves hit, skip the unbelief panic party. Believe Jesus and rebuke the wind. That’s your new normal as a Christian.

Let me press this deeper because Jesus’ question cuts straight to the heart of our new reality in Him. The disciples saw crashing waves and felt the boat filling with water. From pure human observation that fear felt right. But Jesus did not operate from observation. He operated from the Father’s word and the authority given Him. He expected the same from them even before Pentecost. How much more does He expect it from us now that we are new creations identified with the resurrected and enthroned Christ?

The problem was never the storm’s size. The problem was their little faith. They evaluated the situation from the old human point of view that Paul later condemns in 2 Corinthians 5:16-17. “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!” The disciples had not yet fully grasped this shift. They still measured danger by sight and feeling instead of by the finished work and the promises that define us. Jesus slept because He knew reality submits to a man with faith, and it must obey the word of faith. When He rebuked the wind and waves, He was not begging the Father for help. He commanded creation directly. That is the model, and it is now ours in greater measure.

Today we have something far beyond what those disciples possessed in that boat. The old man is dead. We are new creations seated with Christ far above every storm (Ephesians 2:6, Colossians 3:1-3). The same Spirit that empowered Jesus now lives in us for greater works (John 14:12). The promises are all “yes” in Him (2 Corinthians 1:20). Psalm 1 guarantees success in everything when we meditate day and night on God’s word instead of the waves. This includes success over every storm that rises against us—literal or figurative.

Yet many believers still live like those pre-Pentecost disciples. A medical report comes like a sudden gale. A financial crisis hits like rogue waves. Relationship trouble crashes over the bow. And the first response is panic: “Lord, don’t You care that we’re perishing?” Here comes the frank truth—Jesus is still asking the same question: “Why are you afraid? You have so little faith.” He’s not being harsh. He’s being precise. Fear is unbelief wearing emotional makeup, trying to look spiritual while denying every promise God has spoken. It confesses that circumstances are bigger than the promises. It denies that you now carry the authority to speak to mountains and have them obey.

The correction is simple and powerful. Stop focusing on what your eyes see and your body feels. Relentlessly fix your mind on who you are in Christ and the promises that define you. You are the righteousness of God. You are seated far above every storm. The authority to say “peace, be still” belongs to you because it belongs to Him and you are in Him. Jesus did not just start your faith—He is faithful to finish it (Hebrews 12, 1 Corinthians 1:30). Your job is agreement. Speak the word.

This is your new normal. The storm no longer gets a vote. Faith does. When the next wave rises—and it will—remember Jesus’ question. Then give Him the answer He is looking for: bold agreement with His promises that proves great faith. The wind is waiting. Creation is listening. Your words, rooted in His promises, carry the same power that once calmed Galilee.

The disciples were basically giving Jesus a one-star review on the “Miracle Uber” app while He napped through the whole crisis. Meanwhile He expected them to realize the storm was the one that needed to submit. That same expectation lands on us today with even greater force. We are not evaluating Christ from a human point of view anymore. We know Him now as the enthroned King whose Name we carry. Every storm must answer to that Name when we speak it in faith.

So let the storm throw its tantrum. You have the remote control now. Open your mouth and give the same order Jesus gave: “Peace, be still.” The waves will obey because they already obeyed Him, and you are identified with the resurrected Christ who finished the work. Fear has no place here. Faith has the final word. This is the brilliant life God has given us.

Jesus: The Man Who Slung Money Around via Miracles

Oshea Davis

You know, I’ve spent years digging into the Scriptures, wrestling with the logic of God’s sovereignty and the raw power of faith, and one thing keeps slapping me in the face like a wet fish from Peter’s haul: Jesus wasn’t stingy. Far from it. He threw around material provision like a king tossing gold coins to the crowds, and He did it through miracles that would make today’s economists weep. We’re talking wine at Cana worth a cool hundred grand in today’s dollars, fish catches that could retire a family for life, and bread multiplications feeding thousands with leftovers to spare. And that’s just the recorded stuff—John says if we wrote down all His miracles, the world couldn’t hold the books (John 21:25). If you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen the Father (John 14:9), and this Father isn’t doling out crumbs; He’s serving up feasts of abundance. But here’s the kicker: Jesus didn’t just do it—He commanded His disciples to feed the crowds themselves, expecting them to multiply substance by faith. That puts the ball in our court, folks. If mountains of provision aren’t piling up in your life, don’t blame God; look in the mirror.

[A quick side note, the value amounts are not a direct deduction, but an educated guess; they are a “rough modern parallel” and not a “thus saith the Lord on the exact price.” The point for a rough modern parallel is to help you see a modern picture of the value of the enriching miracles of Jesus’ ministry.]

Let’s start where any solid theology should—with the Word. Take the wedding at Cana in John 2:1-11. Jesus turns water into wine, not just any swill, but the best stuff, enough to fill six stone jars holding twenty to thirty gallons each. That’s 120 to 180 gallons of top-shelf vintage. Since the scripture cannot lie, and it was said to be the best type of wine, it was the expensive stuff.  Think somewhere between 300-900 dollars per gallon. In modern terms, we’re looking at around $50,000 to $150,000 worth of wine, give or take on how vintage the taste was. Jesus didn’t skimp; He overdelivered, turning a potential party flop into a king’s banquet. Why? Because that’s how the Father rolls—abundant generosity reflecting His nature. As Vincent Cheung notes in his essay “The Light of Our Minds,” God’s revelation isn’t about bare minimums; it’s about overwhelming favor that points to His unstoppable power. “God’s revelation is the ultimate starting point for knowledge, and it includes His promises of blessing and provision.” Jesus is not prosperity gospel-lite but prosperity gospel extreme. Jesus provided lavishly, and if we claim to follow Him, we ought to expect the same flow.

 They likely didn’t guzzle it all—sell the surplus, and that family just hit the jackpot. The hosts could’ve sold the surplus and lived like royalty.  Jesus slung money like confetti, turning a potential flop into a fortune. And why? Because the Father is generous, and Jesus mirrors Him perfectly: “If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9).

Fast-forward to Peter’s big catch in Luke 5:1-11. Jesus borrows Peter’s boat for preaching, then tells him to drop the nets one more time after a fruitless night. Peter obeys, half-grumbling, and hauls in so many fish the nets tear and boats nearly sink. Scholars estimate 153 large fish (John 21:11, a similar miracle), but Luke’s account implies even more. In first-century Galilee, fish were currency—dried, salted, traded. Today’s equivalent? A commercial haul like that could fetch $100,000 to $300,000, enough for Peter to retire comfortably, support his family, and bless his partners. Peter drops everything to follow Jesus, but the Lord ensures he’s provided for richly. This wasn’t pocket change; it was a windfall screaming, “Trust Me—I’ve got your back.” God slung provision through Jesus, and He’s not stingy today.

One additional note about this miracle of money. This became the point that Peter decided to follow Jesus. Miracle money will do that for many people, we know this true because scripture says so, as it shows with Peter.  You want better evangelism, then have more faith for miracle money to bless others. You don’t need to beg Jesus for this because His finished atonement already provided this for us. We already have it.

Then there’s the feeding miracles—twice, no less. First, 5,000 men (plus women and kids, so maybe 15,000 total) get fed from five loaves and two fish (Matthew 14:13-21). Leftovers: 12 baskets. The second time, 4,000 men (likely 12,000 total) from seven loaves and a few fish, with seven baskets left (Matthew 15:32-39). In ancient terms, a loaf fed a family for a day; fish added protein. Valuing basic meals at $12 each today, that’s $180,000 for the first crowd, about $150,000 for the second. But factor in the miracle’s scale—desert catering for thousands, which would cost an addition thousands of dollars. Jesus didn’t ration; He overflowed. These weren’t survival scraps but abundant feasts, foreshadowing the gospel’s promise: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). If you’re scraping by, questioning prosperity, you’re echoing the Pharisees’ unbelief, not Jesus’ faith doctrine.

Jesus didn’t just meet needs; He exceeded them, showing the Father’s heart for overflow. As in Deuteronomy 28:1-14 (various translations emphasize this), obedience to faith brings blessings that chase you down—abundant crops, livestock, and storehouses. Jesus embodied this, commanding His disciples, “You give them something to eat” (Matthew 14:16 NIV). He expected them to multiply by faith, just as we’re responsible today to wield that same power for material substance.

Don’t forget the temple tax coin in the fish’s mouth (Matthew 17:24-27). Peter needs cash for the tax—about four drachmas, a few days’ wages. Jesus says, “Go fish—the first one you catch will have a four-drachma coin in its mouth.” Boom: exact amount. In modern bucks, that’s $100-200. You can pay your taxes the same way. Jesus, as a man born under the law, using faith in God’s word, paid for taxes by miracle money. We can do the same.

God provides precisely, supernaturally. Add it all up so far and a low estimate across these miracles is $300,000; high end, $1,500,000. And these are just the recorded ones. Jesus slung money like it grew on trees—because in His hands, it did. He commands us to do the same.

Now, here’s where faith-fumblers trip up: they peddle unbelief, saying, “That was then; now we ask for bare necessities.” Rubbish. Jesus commanded, “You feed them” (Mark 6:37), expecting disciples to multiply material substance by faith. We’re not sidelined spectators; we’re empowered partners. Mark 11:22-24: “Have faith in God… 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.” Mountains of lack? Command them gone. Multiply material substances like the bread, or transmute material substances like water into wine. God is not holding your wealth back; your lack of faith and obedience is. The resurrected Christ empowers us for “greater works” (John 14:12)—not lesser. If you’re not seeing provision multiply, check your faith, not God’s generous wallet, a wallet he has given you access to by faith in Jesus Christ. When He sees you, He sees His Son, and this is why His wallet is opened to you.

But here’s the kicker: Jesus expects us to do the same. “You feed them,” wasn’t a one-off. In Mark 11:22-24, He says, “Have faith in God. 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” (NIV). Mountains? That’s code for obstacles—sickness, lack, impossibilities. Faith moves them. Matthew 17:20 doubles down: even mustard-seed faith commands mountains to relocate. Nothing impossible. Luke 17:6 adds trees obeying your word, uprooting and planting in the sea.

This isn’t pie-in-the-sky. It’s grounded in Abraham’s covenant, where God promises to be our shield and exceedingly great reward (Genesis 15:1). Paul ties it to the gospel: “Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: ‘All nations will be blessed through you'” (Galatians 3:8 NIV). That blessing? Superabundant descendants, land (the world, per Romans 4:13), wealth, health, favor. No mention of scraping by—it’s excessive. God declares Abraham righteous for believing He’d deliver the goods (Genesis 15:6). Same faith receives healing, provision, miracles today. As Deuteronomy 28:1-14 spells out under the law (fulfilled in Christ): obedience brings overflowing barns, fruitful wombs, victory over enemies. Prosperity? God’s idea—health, wealth, success (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:3).

Vincent Cheung echoes this in “Predestination and Miracles”: “God predestined us to bear fruit… Gospel life and ministry is characterized by answers to prayers. What kinds of prayers? … ‘God will give you whatever you ask.’ We’re predestined for this—abundance through faith. Jesus slung money via miracles to show the Father’s love; now it’s our turn. Speak to that mountain of lack: “Be removed and cast into the sea” (Mark 11:23). It will obey you—not because you’re bossing God, but because He’s unleashed His power through your faith confession.

Jesus slung money via miracles to showcase the Father’s generosity. Expect it, command it, receive it—today. Don’t settle for scraps when the table’s set for a feast. Faith moves mountains; unbelief moves excuses.

If you’re one of those folks who thinks Jesus was all about scraping by with the bare minimum—barefoot, begging for scraps, preaching poverty as piety—then you’ve got the wrong Messiah. The real Jesus, the one Scripture paints without apology, wasn’t stingy with His power. He multiplied resources like it was nothing, handing out miracles that, in today’s dollars, equate to hundreds of thousands, even millions. And He didn’t do it quietly. No, He slung that abundance around, benefiting wedding hosts, disciples, crowds, even Peter and Himself for taxes. These aren’t footnotes in the Gospels; they’re front and center, showing the Father’s heart. As John reminds us, there were so many miracles that a library couldn’t hold them all (John 21:25). We’re talking recorded ones alone tallying up to a low estimate of $300,000, spiking to $1,500,000 on the high end. That’s not pocket change—that’s a king’s ransom, dished out freely.

Imagine being so dense that when you read 2 Corinthians 8:9, you think it’s about “spiritual” wealth instead of cold, hard cash. The words say “wealth” and “poverty.” Reading comprehension much? Step one: read the words. Paul’s out there collecting money, so yeah, it’s about finances—not some floaty, ethereal jargon. Only a pastor or theologian could twist it that bad and still sleep at night.

Sure, you might squeeze some extra insight from a redemptive-historical angle, but that’s indirect, secondary, and does zilch to cancel the passage’s straight-up teaching. This money swap was baked into Jesus’ atonement. He took our poverty and handed us His wealth—part of the substitution deal. Curses included poverty, and Jesus snagged those curses, nailed them to the cross, and swapped them for Abraham’s gospel, which comes with miracle cash. He took our broke-ass state and gave us His bling. It’s the full Jesus package. Mock the money part, and you’re mocking Jesus, stomping on His atonement. You’re not just wrong—you’re God’s enemy, an anti-Christian trash heap with a worldview to match.

When they say, “I don’t see all prospering or healed,” it’s not theology anymore—it’s a worldview clash. An ultimate authority clash. We’re not just reading text differently; we’re understanding existence differently. Scripture forbids me from using “Do I see people healed or not?” as a way of knowing or an authority. So if a so-called Christian grabs knowledge or authority from observations, we’re as far apart as atheism is from Christianity. Different authorities, different worldviews. Different foundations, different realities. It’s not about text context—it’s about ultimate authority. My worldview bans appealing to observations; theirs welcomes it. They have sided Satan, and will partake of his destruction.

In the end, if your life’s not overflowing with provision like those crowds’ baskets, don’t lecture God on sovereignty—check your faith. Jesus didn’t hold back; neither should we. He’s the man who slung money around via miracles, and if we’re His, we’ll do the same. Time to believe big, confess bold, and watch reality bow. After all, the Father’s cheering us on—more than we know, because he already provided us wealth in His precious Son’s atonement. Jesus became our poverty so that He makes us rich with this wealth. To think little of wealth is to slap Jesus across the face in blatant disgrace and mock His poverty suffering for us, as a little thing. Or you can just receive His wealth and praise Him for his generosity and use that to be blessed and bless gospel ministries. God’s way is always the better way.

Until we are all slinging wealth around via miracles, we are not living up to Jesus’ extreme faith and wealth doctrine. Our faith needs to catch up Jesus.

 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.

Power Identification Theology

The Believer as Extension of the Enthroned Christ

Traditional Christianity has long framed the believer as a “sinner saved by grace”—a redeemed but still fundamentally human struggler, locked in perpetual warfare against sin, self, and circumstance. This view keeps the cross as the gravitational center: a place of ongoing guilt, repentance, and partial victory. Power Identification Theology dismantles that operating system entirely. It declares that God’s declarative perspective is reality. The believer is not a patched-up sinner limping toward heaven but an extension of the enthroned Christ—fused, seated, righteous, and incapable of the old human category. The cross was the doorway; the throne is the destination and the present address. This is not metaphor. It is metaphysical fact executed by divine revelation.

The gospel itself is defined at the root. What is that root? Jesus is not primarily the Man on the cross or even the Victor from the tomb. He is the King seated at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens (Hebrews 8:1). The cross dealt with sin once; the resurrection installed the Davidic King on Zion (Psalm 2; 2 Timothy 2:8); the ascension released the Spirit (Acts 2:33). Hebrews calls the enthroned High Priest “the main point.” Everything else—atonement benefits, healing, dominion—is enforced from this throne room. Believers are raised and seated with Him in heavenly places right now (Ephesians 2:6). Sickness, lack, demons, and mountains are not battles to fight; they are footstools already placed under the feet of the enthroned Head, and therefore under His body.

Cross-centered theology is exposed as vile precisely because it keeps eyes fixed where Jesus no longer is. It manufactures perpetual sin-consciousness, false humility, and unbelief. Apostles quoted Psalm 110:1 more than any other Old Testament verse—dozens of times—precisely to drive the church away from the bloody pole toward the occupied throne. To linger at the cross post-resurrection is to celebrate a wedding by obsessing over the proposal while the feast is served. It turns the gospel into a somber memorial service instead of a regime-change announcement. Throne-gazers, by contrast, see the Victor looking back at them. They mirror His purity (1 John 3:2-3), approach boldly (Hebrews 4:16), and issue decrees that rearrange reality. The gospel is Jesus crowned and commanding—and you seated there with Him, laughing at the devil’s attempts to withhold inheritance.

This power flows from radical identification about reality. God does not merely forgive or improve the old human self. In His sovereign mind, that self died, was buried, and was replaced. “Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NLT). When God looks at the believer, He sees Jesus—fused as Head and body, one Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:17). This is not poetic; it is creative reality. God’s thoughts sustain existence itself. He considered the old Oshea (or any believer) dead with Christ and a new creation defined as part of Jesus. That divine consideration *creates* the new ontology. Believers are therefore co-heirs, partakers of the divine nature (Romans 8:17; 2 Peter 1:4), and empowered by the same Spirit that anointed Jesus for miracles—only multiplied through a global body for greater works (John 14:12).

Because the old container no longer exists, the new creation is literally incapable of producing human works. Sin is impossible without accusing the Head of sin—an ontological contradiction. The new self cannot generate human righteousness either; both categories died on the cross. Accusations from conscience, Satan, or religious systems collapse logically: they require pretending the believer is still the old human self, which God has declared nonexistent. It is as absurd as charging a cloud with murder or expecting a rock to author a novel. Human effort, good or bad, is a category error. Works not built on this reality are burned up because they cannot be attributed to the new creation grafted into Christ. The believer’s only “work” is alignment—agreeing with God’s verdict rather than resurrecting a corpse through self-effort or guilt.

Into this vacuum, God has sovereignly gifted the flawless righteousness of His Son. Not infused gradually, not earned through law or striving, but credited wholesale as an irrevocable exchange (2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 5:17-19). Just as Abraham believed the promise and it was credited to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6; Romans 4), believers who trust the resurrection receive the same divine ledger. Christ became sin so that we might become the righteousness of God. When God looks at the believer, He sees the spotless, exalted Son. This is not partial or probationary; it is total, pre-dating Moses, rooted in grace alone. Doubt here is not humility—it is unbelief undermining the finished work. Maturity means owning this righteousness as naturally as one owns their own hands: “When you feel so ‘right,’ nothing can stand in your way.”

The contrast with the wrong understanding could not be sharper. The “sinner saved by grace” model breeds beggars at an empty cross—tiptoeing, repenting endlessly, scraping together partial victories while Satan mocks from the sidelines. High-Power Identification Theology produces co-regents issuing throne-room decrees. Sickness is not a test of endurance but a defeated enemy already footstooled; prayer is not pleading but commanding reality to align with the King’s already-spoken word; defeating temptation is not a old-man self-effort, but divinely empowered sanctification, with Jesus being the author and perfecter of your faith; the old self is gone, and the new is rules in life through Jesus Christ. Dominion, healing, miracles, and prosperity are not future hopes or rare exceptions—they are administrative functions of the enthroned body. The Spirit convicts the world of the single sin of unbelief in this reality (John 16:8-9). Faith simply assents to what God has already declared.

This theology demands a full system reinstall. It is not an upgrade to the old OS; it is a new kernel. Cross → Throne. Human → Christ. Guilt → Decree. Victim → Co-regent. Once installed, the old guilt loops throw exceptions, self-effort crashes, and dominion becomes the default process. The believer wakes each morning already seated above every principality, already righteous with the Son’s own perfection, already incapable of the old category. Reality follows the declaration.

This is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Because the gospel is about the “substitution,” where the “Father identified” our sins, sickness, curses and poverty with Jesus, and “now identifies” us with Jesus’ righteousness, health, wealth and blessings, the gospel is theology about identification. The gospel is about truth and reality. It is an Identification Theology. Because it identifies us as co-heirs with Jesus, one with His body, a Royal Priesthood in Him, as baptized in the same Spirit of Power for ministry and to use the name of Jesus to ask and receive, it is an identification theology of Power.

The God Who Gives and Takes Away

Yeah, you know that song—“Blessed Be Your Name”—with its catchy chorus belting out, “You give and take away.” Oh boy, did the worship leaders love repeating that bridge, turning it into some kind of mantra that echoed through the auditorium like a divine echo chamber. Back in my younger days, before I really grasped the full blast of Jesus’ finished work on the cross, that line used to hit me like a gut punch from an invisible stalker lurking in the shadows of my faith. I’d sing it in church, lifting my hands with the crowd, but inside, it stirred up this nagging dread that twisted my guts: When’s God gonna yank away my health, my cash flow, or that close relationship I’d been nurturing? It painted Him as a cosmic night stalker, ready to rip away the good stuff on a whim, leaving me destitute and praising myself for how much more I can suffer from God than my neighbor. Felt more like a horror flick plot than the promise of an “exceedingly great reward” that God dropped on Abraham in Genesis 15:1. I remember feeling a bit envious of Abraham back then; it seemed like he got the jackpot Genie God who multiplied blessings without the fine print, while we were left with the chainsaw massacre version who giveth and taketh at random.

The Bible is a worldview, and the finished work of Jesus forces a very specific way to see reality: Blessed be the Name of God. He takes away my curses, pains, sickness, poverty, and lack. Blessed be the Name of God, who gives me health, relationships, prosperity, fame, and favors of all sorts. Blessed be the Name of God, who took away my bad, and gave me good.  

Job 1:21 says, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job’s venting in the midst of his nightmare, a raw outpouring from a man who’s just lost everything—his kids, his wealth, his health—in a whirlwind of calamity that would break most folks. And in that moment, he’s clinging to a sliver of piety, acknowledging God’s sovereignty even as the ashes settle, but also thinking himself more righteous than he truly was. Job accepted God’s rebuked and God gave him the mercy and compassion of double wealth and health. But here’s the thing: Job’s reality was one where he had no direct covenant contract with God like we do under the New Contract. He’s operating in a pre-cross world, where the full revelation of God’s redemptive plan hadn’t yet unfolded. Zoom out to the New Contract, sealed in Jesus’ blood, and everything shifts dramatically. Through Jesus’ brutal substitution on that cross—where He bore our sins, our infirmities, our poverty—God doesn’t play this give-and-take game with His kids’ blessings. No, He takes away the junk we deserved, the curses that clung to us like bad karma from the fall, and lavishes us with the overflow of His goodness.

The whole point of substitution is that we don’t have the things Jesus took on Himself. Jesus endures the loss so we don’t have to, swapping our rags for His riches in a divine exchange. In God’s mind, and His mind is the only mind matters, He thinks Jesus took on Himself our sins, ours sickness, our curses and our poverty; because of this the Father does not think we have sins, sickness, curses or poverty. Think about it. Hour after horrific hour, Jesus stood in our place under the wrath of God, and nailed to our curses. This has already happened. Jesus endured lash, after lash, after lash as an exchange to give me healing. Who am I to disagree with God. Why would I want to? The Father has decided in His mind that we carry Jesus righteousness, health produced by His stripes, and Abraham’s blessing of excessive increase and wealth. Jesus already did it. God already considers all these bad things removed from us, and already reckons all the good things are ours. If we disbelieve God, like Jesus’ hometown and fail to receive, that is our accountability, and not God who already provided. Again, that is the whole point of substitution. It has already happened and been completed.  

If God’s sovereignty means He decrees all things without contradiction—as Hebrews 6:18 insists it’s impossible for Him to contradict Himself—and if His New Contract promises health, prosperity, and victory through faith, and the blessings of Deuteronomy 28 now redirected to us via Galatians 3:14, then He’s not in the business of snatching back what He lavished on us in Christ. Galatians 3:13 spells it out plainly: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.’” See? Jesus became the curse so we wouldn’t have to lug it around like a ball and chain. Jesus lugged it around like a ball and chain to the cross and it died there with Him. I don’t have it, because He took it away from me.  Isaiah 53:4-5 hammers it home: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” That’s not human observational; it’s propositional truth, applied from God’s unchanging mind to our everyday reality. Matthew 8:17 confirms this interpretation, applying it directly to Jesus’ healing ministry: “This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took our illnesses and bore our diseases.’”

In the New Covenant, God’s giving is all about abundance—health as in 3 John 1:2, where John prays, “Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul”; prosperity echoing Abraham’s promise in Genesis 12:2, “And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” Thus even relationships are rooted in Abraham’s gospel of increase of favor, love and meaningfulness, not arbitrary loss and loneliness. It’s all yes and amen in Christ, as 2 Corinthians 1:20 declares: “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory.” If we’re singing “He gives and takes away” while ignoring this Contract shift, we’re mixing up a person with outsider status with insider’s status, creating a theological Frankenstein. To mix outsider identity with insider identity is peddling a demon dogmatic that leaves people in perpetual defeat. To think your identity is a dog when you are human would have devastating results. The same with our identity in Christ. To think you are merely human or still the old man, or still a sinner, or still sick or still under a curse, or still an outsider to the Contract when you are not, would have devastating results.

Sickness, for instance, isn’t God’s autograph on our lives—it’s Satan’s victory lap, a middle finger to the kingdom that Jesus demolished at the cross. In Acts 10:38, Peter describes Jesus’ ministry: “how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.” Notice: oppressed by the devil, not by God. Doing good was healing and doing bad was sickness. Peter says it was the devil doing the bag thing, which was taking away health. But it was Jesus doing the good thing, which was giving health. In the New Contract, God takes away the oppression—the sickness, the lack, the relational fractures—and gives us wholeness. In the substitutionary atonement, Jesus took 39 stripes in exchange for our healing. It is already done. In the Father’s mind, He decided our sicknesses were taken off us and put on Jesus as those 39 stripes. There is nothing more for God to do in order to heal us. He already did in Jesus substitutionary atonement.  If we attribute taking away blessings to God, we’re aligning with the accuser, not the Advocate. Satan will teach you to let him do bad things to you like sickness, lack and death, and then tell you to label these bad things as from God. But Acts 10:38 says Jesus does the good thing which is healing.

God is sovereign over all things, including evil, and so He must by logical necessity even be the author of sin. Yet, on the relational level where we live and breathe, God speaks to us as Contract partners, promising to take away curses and give blessings without reversal. In Deuteronomy 28:1-14, the blessings for obedience include health, wealth, and fruitful relationships, and under the New Contract, these are ours through Christ’s perfect obedience, not our flawed efforts. We don’t earn them; we receive them by faith, as Romans 4:16 explains: “That is why it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his offspring.”

So, if your theology still has God as the cosmic repo man, stripping away the very favors He promised in the New Contract, you’re not just off-base—you’re peddling demon dogmatics that’ll stain your hands on judgment day. Before its too late, stop cheering for the wrong team in this cosmic cage match. Instead, bless the Lord who takes our curses—our pains, our lacks, our brokenness—and pours out His riches in glory by Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:19). Blessed be His name, the Giver who takes away our trash and upgrades our inheritance to match His Son’s.

This isn’t pie-in-the-sky optimism; it’s deductive certainty from Scripture’s premises. Start with God’s immutable character (Malachi 3:6: “For I the LORD do not change”), add the New Contract irrevocable promises (Hebrews 8:6: “But as it is, Christ has obtained a ministry that is as much more excellent than the old as the covenant he mediates is better, since it is enacted on better promises”), and conclude that what He gives in Christ—life abundant (John 10:10)—He doesn’t retract things from your life. The whole point of substitutionary atonement is that Jesus went to great lengths to retract and take away all your sins, sickness, curses and lack. God did take away and retract things from your life, but it was all your bad, which Jesus took on Himself and bore it in your place. Satan may try to pilfer, but God’s response is to restore double, as in Zechariah 9:12: “Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.”

In practical terms, this means when trials hit—whether financial squeezes, health scares, or relational rifts—we don’t resign ourselves to “God’s taking away” but resist the devil, firm in faith (James 4:7), claiming the blessings already secured. If God were in the taking business for Contract insiders, He would take away our unbelief, not our blessings; He would zap it right out so we could receive freely. In fact, this is what the boy’s father prayer, “help my unbelief.”  The finished atonement of Jesus, and our new identity in Him forces a particular worldview; it invites us to approach the throne boldly (Hebrews 4:16), asking, knowing we will receive, because our Father promised and delights in giving good gifts.

The God who gives and takes away, has revealed what this means for insiders in Christ; God takes away bad things and gives good things. Blessed be His name, indeed—not for painful subtractions, but for lavish additions that make us more than conquerors (Romans 8:37). If you’ve been singing that song with a side of dread, thinking God takes away the health, wealth, good relationships, righteousness and the very blessings He gave you in Christ, then you have been singing with demons and glorifying the devil. Some Christians are so confused they are singing “Highway to Hell,” thinking it’s a gospel song about God’s insiders. Swap camps and come over God’s choir singing: He gives life, and takes death; gives health, and takes sickness; gives abundance, and takes poverty.

That’s the gospel rhythm—dance to it.

They Were All Healed


Also a multitude gathered from the surrounding cities to Jerusalem, bringing sick people and those who were tormented by unclean spirits, and they were ALL HEALED. Acts 5:26

Tradition says only Jesus could heal everyone, but this is a lie coming from a false teacher. The bible says that Christians do the same. The foundation is Acts 2:31-36. It is a God-centered focus on Jesus ruling at the right hand of the Power. It is not a man centered focus on the apostles; rather, is about Jesus and the authority to use His Name (Acts 3:6,16, 16:18). Peter said, “what I have I give to you, in Jesus Name, walk.” What Peter had, was the Name of Jesus, not the authority of an apostle. We have the same Name of Jesus today. Jesus teaches us in John chapters 14-16 that all Christians who have faith, can use His name to ask and command anything. In fact, this authority goes beyond healing and casting out demons to asking for anything you want.

Another observation is that healing is equated to casting out demons, which lines up with what Peter said in Acts 10:38. This is important because even if there is not a specific authority to cast out demons, yet, the free access and authority to heal includes any demonic oppression on the body and mind. In Isaiah 53 we are told Jesus’ substitutionary atonement includes healing. In this sense, authority over demons is a subcategory of healing. Jesus purchased with this blood our healing, which includes any harassment to our bodies or minds caused by demons.

To say healing is not on the demand of faith is to also say being freed from demonic oppression is not on the demand of faith because demonic oppression is a subcategory under healing.

Jesus did not lie. He said whosoever believes in Him will do His miracles and even greater. This is why see examples in the book of Acts, where everyone got healed, just like Jesus did it. The foundation for this happening was being baptized in the Spirit and faith in Jesus. We have the same foundation today. Jesus is still sitting at the right hand of the Power. We have the same context, the same Jesus, the same Spirit and the same millennial rule of Jesus at the Power’s right hand.

The Will OF GOD is Irrelevant

The bible teaches that God has absolute and direct control over all things. He is the only real cause for all things, and there is no such thing as secondary causes. God is the metaphysical author of sin and evil. God has predestined all things by His own goals and choices, and decrees all reality in a logical order in relation to His goals (supralapsarianism).  There is no such thing as free-will. Man is responsible because he is not free but under God’s sovereign control and command.  Because God absolutely and directly causes all things, He absolutely and directly causes the predestination of the elect and reprobate. Logic and deduction are so easy. As Romans 9 says, God takes from the neutral lump (before good or evil) and by the same power and choice makes some to be evil reprobates and some to be righteous elect.  God has not given up some of His control to man, because free-will does not exist, because the bible never says He made this choice, and because the nature of God insures that there is no difference in how direct and absolute He causes one thing or another in creation. God’s thoughts, power and choice are one and the same. Because He thinks about it and decides on it, it is reality. Therefore, in the ultimate sense, God Will is the only relevant issue.

I say all of this to state a broad and correct doctrine of God’s sovereignty, so that I am not misunderstood in my following comments.

When we pray for healing, miracles or forgiveness the “will of God,” (referring to His causality, not commands), is irrelevant. As Vincent Cheung points out in “Healing: The Will of Man,” to talk about the “will of God” in this context is already a partial defeat, because the bible talks about man’s will, not God’s will.

The bible’s positive doctrine is that healing is about the will of man, not the will of God. This is how the scripture presents the subject. Jesus never asked the Father if it was God’s will to heal a particular person; rather, He always asked if it was the man or woman’s will to be healed.  Jesus then said to his disciples and followers, “you heal the sick.” The will of God (referring to His decrees/causality) was never brought up; only “man’s will,” was brought up. The will of God was simply irrelevant. Jesus, who is more God-centered than you or your favorite pastor, taught us the “will of God,” was irrelevant, and that “man’s will” was the relevant issue.

Some are more accustomed to think about the atonement and forgiveness and so we will start here. The big idea, is that healing (Isaiah 53, Matth 8, James 5, Gal. 3) is as much the gospel and substitutionary atonement as forgiveness is, if not more so.

So here is the question: is the “will of God,” relevant for salvation or conversion? It is not relevant, if I am the one answering it. I am not asking a broad doctrinal question. I am asking it as Jesus would ask a person, “do you want to be healed”? Do you want to be forgiven? I am asking it the way Moses says, “I have presented to you life and death,” now make a choice. I am asking it the way the bible personally addresses me with its promises and commands, telling me that I must respond to it.

The “will of God” is irrelevant for my salvation, because what God decrees and causes is irrelevant in my response to obey the command of God to repent. Paul in Acts 17 commands us to repent of our sins. It is not a choice or suggestion. When I evaluate how I should behave I only use the commands of God to do this, not God’s secret decrees or causality. For example, in Romans 5 Paul says God caused me to be born a sinner, with a sinful heart, because of what Adam did. If I were to use the “will of God,” as a relevant factor in my decision to repent of my sins or not, then I would recognize it was the will of God to decree and cause me to be born a sinner, thus I will choose to stay a sinner until God decrees and causes me to repent.

I will assume most will see the error of this.  It is obvious that God’s Will is irrelevant in my consideration if I should repent of my sins. The relevant issue is God’s command for me to repent.  If a person uses the “will of God” as a relevant issue to exempt them from having to repent of their sins, we would see this as an excuse to be rebellious and unbelieving.

The same is for healing and other various miracles and supernatural experiences.  Healing is provided by the same atonement that provided forgiveness. Both are already accomplished and both are received on the demand of faith. God is sovereign over our faith, but on the demand of faith God always does what He promises. Faith always receives, and God is sovereign over faith. However, even though God is sovereign over faith (God’s Will), we are never told to consider it as relevant knowledge when we choose to believe a promise or not.  When we are in the context of a “should” or “ought” the category is always about God’s command.

In John 15 Jesus uses God’s predestination as an encouragement to ask whatever we want and get it.  Peter does the same thing in Acts 2 about the baptism of the Spirit for power. And so the Will of God is relevant in the topic of valuing God’s encouragement and explanation. Even though God’s Will is used by scripture to encourage our confidence for miracles and answered prayer, yet, when dealing with the topic of the scripture commanding me to repent and commanding me to receive healing and the gospel (James 5:15, John 14,15, Gal.3, Acts 2) the only relevant category is God’s command, not God’s Will.

Thus, when we pray for healing, God’s Will is irrelevant. The Will of God, is a non-issue. To have the Will of God, pop up into your head when praying for healing, is like having the decree of God that made you a sinner(Rom 5), pop into your head as a relevant issue if you should repent or not, and question if God would forgive if you had faith in Jesus.  It is insane and delusional.

The Will of God is irrelevant when considering if God will save you if you repent in faith; it is a non-issue. The Will of God is irrelevant when considering if God will heal you if you command sickness to leave with faith; it is a non-issue.

“Oh, God, please forgive me. I am powerless. You have done nothing yet, but you could do something, Oh powerful and eternal God. You made me a sinner because of Adam’s sin, and so, I don’t know if You have decreed me to be saved or not, and so, If it is your Will, please forgive my sins.”

This insane prayer is how many pray about healing. They are stupid and sinful. The bible never tells us to pray like this. Such a person should not expect to be forgiven of their sin. And if they pray for healing like this, they should not expect to be healed. To pray, while using the Will of God as a relevant issue, will divorce you from being forgiven and healed; It is a prayer of death.

When Peter said, “What I have, I give, in Jesus Name, walk,” the Will of God never came up, because the Will of God is irrelevant. Jesus commanded His followers to heal the sick. This command is the relevant issue, not the Will of God. The Will of God is a non-issue in the context of my healing, or your healing. When you bring in the Will of God as a relevant issue for healing or forgiveness the end results in God’s command being negated. The category of God’s decree and command are different and so should never be used to void each other out, or mixed together.

“Oh God, by Your Will I was made sick, and so I don’t know if I should be healed or not, but please, heal me if it is Your Will.”

 This is a prayer of death. It is a prayer of insanity and disobedience. This prayer uses God’s decree as an excuse to avoid obeying God’s command to be healed.  To use God’s decree to excuse yourself from obeying any of God’s commands such as receiving forgiveness or receiving healing, is stupid and wicked.

Although, there is nothing wrong for a salvation prayer to “ask God into your heart,” yet there are more precise ways to describe it.  Peter in his Pentecost sermon gives direction for a salvation prayer. He instructs the audience to ““Repent and be baptized, in the name of Jesus Christ.” Notice Peter did not instruct them to “ask” God to forgive them; rather, he tells them to repent in Jesus’ Name to be saved. Why? Because Jesus already died and was resurrected. The forgiveness already happened. We are not asking God to crucify His Son again to forgive us, because it already happened.  We are not asking God to do anything in the present tense to forgive us, because Jesus already accomplished it. Because it has been accomplished all we do is repent.  In this context we do not ask or beg. It is when a person has confidence in Jesus’ finished atonement, they repent of their sins in Jesus’ Name. Salvation in this sense is a confession, and not asking and begging. We confess our sins and that is all it takes. Faith is about God letting you know He has already forgiven you, and by repenting you are agreeing with God.  It is foundationally about agreeing and confessing and not asking.

Other gospel benefits such as a healing, and the authority to cast out demons and cast down mountains is the same. They have been accomplished by Jesus’ finished atonement. We do not ask and beg for them, because they have been accomplished by Jesus and given to us. It is irrational to beg for something that already belongs to you.  It was the stripes on Jesus’ back that healed us. And so, it is irrational to ask God to heal us, as if He needs to break out the whip again and start slashing Jesus in the throne room. God accomplished our healing in Jesus’ atonement. Thus, we don’t beg for it, because it is already ours.  As with salvation, we repent as a confession of confidence in Jesus finished atonement, rather than beg and ask forgiveness. The same with healing. It is the Will of Man to command sickness to leave. We confess and agree with God, rather than beg and ask. This is why Jesus tells us to “heal the sick, and cast out demons.” When we command healing and command demons to leave, we are giving a confident confession in the finished atonement of Jesus, which has given us the healing and authority to do such things.

The Spirit tells our spirit about the …..?

 The Spirit tells our spirit about the …..?

“No one can know a person’s thoughts except that person’s own spirit, and no one can know God’s thoughts except God’s own Spirit. And we have received God’s Spirit (not the world’s spirit), so we can know the
wonderful
things
God has
freely given us,”

(1 Corinthians 2:11-12 NLT)

For sake of context, what are some “things” Paul mentions in his letters to the Corinthians about the things God has freely given us? Paul says, Jesus became our sin so that we are freely given God’s righteousness. Paul also says the Holy Spirit freely gives us gifts, such as healings, miracles, prophecy and tongues etc. Paul says that Jesus became our poverty so that God freely gives us money so that in an abundance of wealth we can freely give to the ministry. Paul says God has freely given us Christ’s mind so that we have the Mind of Christ. Paul says God has freely given us all things, even the past, present, future, heaven, eternal life and all reality.

This is why, even though we study theology and doctrine, we also keep focusing on devotions and faith, because the Spirit is relentless in directing our hearts to all the good and free things available to us in Christ. This is why fanboys, become lost in theology and especially of men and tradition, because that is where their hearts are directed; to the things “men” give them.

If your thoughts and mind are not constantly turned to these freely given things by God such as healing, wealth, righteousness, citizenship in heaven, spiritual powers, then what spirit is in you? How can you rationally claim it is God’s Spirit? Not having your spirit moved by God’s Spirit to freely receive such things as health and wealth means you must be an illegitimate child; you are and outsider to the love of the Spirit. But for us who do have God’s Spirit we are overwhelmed with love of God as the Spirit directs our thoughts to all the freely given things for us to receive. And after receiving them, we give in the same free manner that it was given to us.