Tag Archives: Ethics

Aim for the Stars

Aim for the Stars and Faith Will Make You Hit Them

It is sad—borderline tragic—that even Christians have bought the lie to aim low. Most take the vision and desires God planted in their hearts, yank out a shotgun loaded with birdshot, and blast away at a target just beyond their own feet. And guess what? Without surprising anyone, they hit it. Then, to our astonishment, they start patting themselves on the back, congratulating themselves like they just won the Olympics. Most of the time they shoot so low that some of the pellets bounce off the ground and smack them right in the face. They call this “humble” and “suffering under the sovereign hand of God,” as if they accomplished something worth God’s time—or mine—to even notice.

Yet this is exactly the opposite picture Scripture paints. The Bible never spotlights a person who aimed for the dirt with birdshot and then high-fived themselves for a job well done. The Heroes of Faith in Hebrews 11 are the polar opposite. It puts a blinding spotlight on people who pointed their vision at the stars and watched faith rocket their arrow straight to Orion’s Belt. These weren’t cautious calculators; they were bold archers who refused to waste God’s ammunition on pebbles. And God loved it. He still does.

Take the Roman centurion for the masterclass. He was a Gentile outsider, not even under the contracts yet. In his context the ground was all he was supposed to aim for. Remember the Gentile woman? Jesus told her He was sent first to the lost sheep of Israel—it wasn’t her turn. But this centurion marched straight up to Jesus, looked Him dead in the eyes, and pulled his bow back to the moon. “My servant is sick and needs healing.” Jesus’ immediate reply? “You got it, bro—I’ll head to your house right now.” The man aimed for the sky, and faith slammed the arrow into the moon. Boom.

But wait—there’s more. The centurion could have stopped there like any normal person. Jesus had already said yes. Most would have grabbed the miracle and run hoping God wouldn’t change His mind. Not this guy. He looked Jesus in the face a second time, yanked the bowstring all the way to Centauri, and fired again: “Actually, Lord, don’t even bother walking—just speak the word right here, right now.” Imagine the nerve! In today’s church some faith-fumbler would have whispered, “Dude, you already got your miracle—don’t push it. Jesus might get annoyed.” Yeah, right. Jesus’ actual response? Astonishment. Public praise. “I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!” He didn’t scold the upgrade request—He celebrated it. The man aimed outside our solar system, and faith delivered. Jesus was all happiness and surprise, like a proud Father watching His kid dunk on the rim and then immediately ask for the NBA.

Put yourself in Jesus’ sandals for a second. Most people are drowning in unbelief. When someone finally scrapes together a thimble of faith, they still aim so low the arrow barely leaves the front yard. But this outsider Roman sized up Jesus, concluded He had absolute authority over reality itself, and instead of wasting time with self-debasing groveling, he asked for a miracle—and then upgraded the request on the spot. Jesus didn’t sigh and say, “Be satisfied.” He marveled. Publicly. Before the whole crowd. That is the God we serve.

The doctrine is as simple as it is explosive: the higher you aim, the more God likes it. Aim for Orion’s Belt and faith will get you there. The moment you land, God beams with delight if you immediately say, “Wait, wait—add Andromeda Galaxy in my other pocket too!” He doesn’t roll His eyes. He boasts about you the same way He boasted about the centurion. You can never aim too high or too often with faith. The only error is aiming too low and too infrequently.

This isn’t some prosperity gimmick; it’s the self-authenticating revelation of Scripture itself—our only starting point for knowledge. God’s Word is His will (Maxim 19). And His will, stated over and over, is that “all things are possible for the one who believes” (Mark 9:23). Not some things. Not safe things. All things. Jesus didn’t stutter when He said, “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer” (Matthew 21:22). He didn’t add footnotes about aiming low to stay humble. The footnotes are the inventions of men who have never tasted what real faith feels like when it leaves the bowstring.

How about David? Kid with a slingshot stares down a nine-foot giant who had the entire army wetting themselves. David didn’t aim for “maybe I won’t die today.” He aimed for the giant’s forehead and declared, “I come against you in the name of the Lord of Armies!” One stone, one shot, one dead Philistine, and the rest of the army routed. Faith took a shepherd boy’s pebble and turned it into a guided missile that hit the Keyhole Nebula.

Even the woman with the issue of blood aimed high. Twelve years of doctors, twelve years of worse. As a child of Abraham she tried to pay for healing that was freely promised in the contract; and the result was poverty.  Society said stay home and bleed quietly. She said, “If I can just touch the hem of His garment…” She crawled through a crowd that could have stoned her for uncleanness, stretched out her hand, and grabbed healing that wasn’t even on the menu that day. Jesus stopped the whole parade: “Daughter, your faith has healed you.” He called her out publicly so everyone would know—high aim plus relentless faith equals miracles on demand.

This is why Jesus commands us to ask in His name and expect greater works (John 14:12-14). Greater. Not equal, not smaller—greater. The resurrected, enthroned Christ has identified us with Himself so completely that when we speak in faith, reality hears the voice of the Son. That’s not arrogance; that’s agreement with God’s definition of us. We are co-heirs. We are seated with Him. We are the righteousness of God in Christ. Why would we aim at our feet when the throne room is wide open and the King is saying, “What do you want? Ask big—I already paid for it”?

The faithless love to slap a “God’s timing” or “humility” label on their low aim. They call it wisdom. Scripture calls it unbelief, dressed up stupid. The Israelites limited the Holy One of Israel (Exodus 13-14) by their evil report. They could have aimed for the Promised Land in one generation, in one day. Instead they wandered forty years because they aimed at the dirt, and God hated them for it. Don’t repeat their mistake. God is still the same yesterday, today, and forever. His promises are still “yes” in Christ. The only variable is faith and aiming high.

So what will you aim for today? Cancer, diabetes? Aim higher—total eradication, and the healing of your whole family, and a testimony that shakes your city. Debt? Aim higher—supernatural debt cancellation that funds you with 5 houses, and the gospel with 500 houses. Loneliness? Aim higher—a spouse of your dreams and a household that multiplies the kingdom on steroids. Here is the big secret the faithless keeps from you. The dirt is not a starting line, it is the opening to the pits of hell. The stars are not the limit; they’re the true starting line for faith. Yes, Faith will make you hit them, then immediately reload for the next galaxy.

You were born from above, and so you were born for this. You carry the same Spirit that raised Jesus. You have the mind of Christ and the name that makes demons scream and mountains move. Stop aiming for your front yard. Load the bow with the promises of God, pull it back to the stars, and let faith fly. God is not rolling His eyes—He’s already leaning forward with a grin, ready to boast about you the same way He boasted about that Roman outsider.

Aim high. Fire often. Jesus already said all things are possible for the one who believes. The stars are waiting—and God is cheering louder than you can imagine.

The stars never looked so good, nor so close.

Faith: Winning the Path of Wisdom

Picture this: you’re standing on the narrow sidewalk of wisdom, the kind Solomon warned his son about. One wrong step and you plunge into endless darkness. Your blood runs cold at the thought of betraying the King of kings

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. How true this is. The fear of God can be seen in context of Scripture as something more mild as worship or reverence, or your blood turning cold in dread. As King Solomon wrote, paraphrasing ( Proverbs 20:2, & 24:21-22): my son, if you betray the king, expect the wrath of the king. Your blood should turn cold in fear if you betray the king. This is right and good. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Proverbs 1:7, NIV). The same truth echoes in Psalm 111:10 and Proverbs 9:10. Fear is not a one-time emotional spasm; rather, Godly fear, is the strength of mind to get on wisdom’s on-ramp. It keeps your feet planted on the narrow way while the darkness of human speculation yawns on both sides. Step off that sidewalk and you are not merely lost—you are swallowed.

However, the part to remember here is the word “beginning.” The fear of God will cause you to begin to walk on the path of wisdom, and it will keep you on the path without turning to the left or right. Think of a sidewalk and on the sides where the sidewalk ends, it plunges into endless darkness. You do not want to stray off this path.

If fear is the beginning of wisdom, what is the advancement of wisdom?

First, know the love. Paul prayed it for the Ephesians and I pray it for you right now: that you “may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:18-19). Notice the order. It is not your love for God that strengthens your inner man. It is His love for you. When that reality sinks in, you stop focusing on your stumbles and start receiving the fullness of God Himself. You stop crawling and start standing tall in the throne room as a legitimate son who already has a room prepared in the Father’s house. There is no more condemnation. Jesus already took that. Your judgment day is behind you; only grace and a brilliant future lie ahead.

When you know the Father loves you the same way He loves Jesus (John 17:23), your inner man swells like a sail in a hurricane. Prayers that once sounded timid now blast through the heavens. This is not sentimental fluff; it is deductive reality. God said it; therefore it is so. The stronger the inner man, the faster you sprint down the sidewalk of wisdom.

The second turbocharger is faith itself—the Flash of the spiritual realm. Hebrews 11 parades the heroes, not the moralists. Abraham lied about his wife, yet faith made him the father of nations. David committed adultery and murder, yet faith made him a man after God’s own heart. The chapter ends with the summary: “These were all commended for their faith” (v. 39). Why no chapter on “Heroes Who Kept the Marriage Bed Pure”? It is not because a pure marriage bed is unimportant, but without faith it is impossible to please God. (Hebrews 11:6). Faith is the deductive application of God’s revelation to your situation. You take the premise “My word shall not return void” (Isaiah 55:11), add the premise “Whatever you ask in my name will be done” (John 14:13-14), and the conclusion is as certain as 2 + 2 = 4. That is why James 5:15 can say, “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.” No exceptions listed. Faith does not guess; it agrees with God that He is correct when He says, “ if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” (Mark 11:223-24).

You can keep every rule in the book and still be a total disappointment to heaven if you refuse to believe God for healing, wealth, miracles, and power. Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Period. The faithless can polish their halos all day; God is not impressed. But one man who believes “whatever you ask in my name will be given you” (John 15:16) and actually expects it—that man makes heaven cheer.

This is why Peter, right after Jesus predicted his betrayal, still got the same promise as everyone else: “I am going there to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2). Peter fell hard, but he never lost his room in the Father’s house. Jesus restored him in love, and Peter used that restoration to strengthen the brethren. That is what faith does. It turns your worst failure into fuel to win the path of wisdom.

Look at the centurion in Matthew 8. He understood sovereignty better than most theologians I know. “Just say the word,” he told Jesus, “and my servant will be healed.” He saw reality itself obeying Jesus the way soldiers obey a commander. Jesus called that great faith and upgraded the miracle on the spot. The centurion didn’t crawl in fear; he ran straight into the throne room with confidence and walked out with a healed servant. That is how sons advance on the path of wisdom.

And here comes the baptism of power that turns the Flash into a supernova. Jesus commanded the disciples to wait for the Spirit so they would receive power (Acts 1:8). Peter’s first sermon links repentance, forgiveness, and then the gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:38-39). The promise is for you. When that power hits, you do not crawl—you run. Mountains that once loomed now hear your voice and obey (Mark 11:23). Sickness that once mocked you now flees because Satan, not God, is its author (Acts 10:38; Luke 13:16). This is applied eschatology right now: the age of Jesus on the throne, empowering His body to do greater works (John 14:12).

Paul says, “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). Losers sit down in fear and baby-crawl, congratulating themselves on staying “on the path.” Winners blast forward on faith and power. The faithless will tell you otherwise. They will say, “God sovereignly gave you that cancer to teach you something.” That is not sovereignty; that is blasphemy dressed as piety. God is the metaphysical author of all things, yes—my Systematic Theology spells it out in the metaphysics section—but on the relational level where He commands us, He is Healer, not disease Santa. Claiming God authors your sickness is the same as claiming you are an Egyptian or Philistine under direct curse. If you are in Christ, you are under Abraham’s blessing, not Adam’s curse. Jesus already carried those stripes (Isaiah 53:4-5; Matthew 8:17).

The same Spirit that raised Jesus is in you. The same authority that commanded storms to be still is yours. The baptism of the Spirit is not optional decoration; it is the supercharger that turns ordinary Christians into heroes who turn rain off like a faucet (James 5:17-18).

Self-debasement is almost always unbelief dressed up stupid. If someone whines about “God’s mysterious sovereignty” while their congregation stays sick, broke, and powerless—they have already stepped off the sidewalk into the dark. Faith-fumblers peddle endless suffering. They are not walking the sidewalk of wisdom—they are face-down in the ditch, eating gravel and calling it “deep.” They reject baptism in the Spirit, reject healing on demand, reject prosperity as part of the gospel, and then wonder why their prayers hit the ceiling.

Do not follow them. They are blind liars pretending to be wise. If they are not baptized in the Spirit, they have rejected the very power that proves election. If they teach suffering is their teacher, they have rejected the love that strengthens the inner man. Their blood should run cold, because they are leading people to betray the King, and their blood now stains their hands.

Faith applies God’s Word deductively to yourself; faith in this sense is a biblical syllogism applying God’s word to you. It is wisdom in action. You take the premise “God cannot lie” (Titus 1:2), add the premise “By His stripes you were healed” (1 Peter 2:24), and the conclusion is inescapable: I am healed. That is not positive thinking. That is wisdom 101. No induction, no human speculation, no “maybe.” Just “God said, therefore I am.” When you live that way, reality obeys because the same God who spoke the universe into existence has decided that your faith-filled words carry His authority. That is how you run the race to win it.

Paul said, “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). You cannot win by crawling in fear. You win by believing every promise is “Yes” in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20) and then marching into the throne room like the co-heir you are.

So here is the straight talk. The fear of the Lord put you on the path. Good. Stay on it. But for the love of God, stop sitting there shaking. Get up. Know how wide and deep His love is for you. Then run—flat out—by faith. Believe for the healing. Believe for the miracle. Believe for the financial breakthrough. Believe for the power that makes demons scream and sickness flee. God is not looking for careful crawlers; He is looking for sons who will make Him proud. He wants to point at you one day and say, “That guy right there—he pleased Me. He took Me at My word. He ran the race like a champion.”

The path of wisdom is the path of faith, because faith is simply God’s knowledge applied to yourself with understanding. And on that path there is no condemnation. So fear the Lord—yes. But then run like the Flash in the other direction: straight into the arms of the Father who loves you more than you can imagine and who has already said “yes” to every good thing you will ever ask.

Know His love until your inner man explodes with strength. Then blast down the sidewalk on the rocket fuel of faith, baptized in the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. The finish line is not survival; it is “Well done, good and faithful servant.” The heroes of faith are waiting to cheer you on. The faithless are already tumbling into the darkness they chose. Choose wisely. Run like the Flash. Win the prize. God is pointing at you right now, saying, “This one pleases Me because he has faith.” Let Him be right.

The Money Pipeline Jesus Established

God is not merely “concerned” for our prosperity—He is passionately invested in it, as an unbreakable part of His covenant love and the finished gospel of Jesus Christ. One dynamic way He releases this real-world increase into our lives is through the obedient faith of giving tithes and offerings. It’s not some legalistic burden or man trying to earn points with God; no, it’s you taking what He has already supplied and sowing it back into the kingdom flow, confident that the Great Giver will multiply it beyond measure.

Jesus said it straight: “Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you” (Luke 6:38 ESV). That’s not poetry for the poor in spirit—it’s your financial reality in the New Covenant. He who was rich became poor for your sake, so that you through His poverty might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). And for those who prioritize the gospel, forsaking all, He promises “a hundred times as much now in the present age”—houses, family, lands—along with eternal life (Mark 10:29-30). This is God stepping up as your ultimate Paycheck, your faithful Breadwinner, ensuring His desire to see you prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers (3 John 1:2).

You give back to God what He first gave you, in tithes and offerings, and He responds with that 100-fold return, opening the windows of heaven and pouring out blessing until there’s no room to receive it (Malachi 3:10). Second Corinthians 9 hammers it home: “Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” He enriches you in everything for generosity that glorifies Him. It’s His clever, sovereign way to lock in the prosperity He swore to Abraham’s seed—us included—and keep the blessings circulating like a river of abundance.

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, and the flesh gets exposed: To admonish ministers who boldly teach on giving, or attack them for receiving offerings—particularly if you’ve been blessed, healed, or empowered by their ministry—is to directly assault Jesus’ prosperity doctrine itself. It’s fleshly thinking at its sneakiest, like biting the hand that feeds you or unplugging the hose while the water of increase is flowing into your yard. If their words stirred faith, cast out doubt, or released miracles in your life, then griping about “why do they talk about is money” is you sawing off the very branch of blessing God is using to prosper you. You’re removing one of the direct pipelines Jesus established for multiplying your wealth and advancing His kingdom through faithful stewards.

Stop playing games with the Giver’s economy. The gospel is God showing off His lavish supply, not us scraping to impress Him. Give cheerfully, from a heart overflowing with gratitude and faith—not under compulsion. Expect the return to crash in like a tidal wave: pressed down, shaken, overflowing. God isn’t running a tight budget; He’s the Sovereign Provider who delights in making His children walk in surplus to silence the scoffer and fund the Great Commission.

Rise up today in this truth. Tithe faithfully, offer generously, and thank God for the 100-fold harvest over your life in Jesus’ name. Your prosperity isn’t a maybe—it’s a locked-in promise activated by faith. Let’s flood the earth with this reality and watch God boast about His faithful ones. Think about it. If you do what Jesus says by faith, and Jesus makes you prosperous in return, He will turn around and boast about you. He will boast about you being wealthy, because you did it by faith in Him. You get wealth and receive God’s praises, and God’s kingdom gets expanded and His name glorified. It’s a win a win, and yet the faith-fumblers want to complain about it. Excommunicate them from your life.

Now, let’s slow down and let the weight of these truths settle in your spirit the way fresh bread settles in an empty stomach—satisfying, strengthening, and making you ready for the day. When God declares His passionate investment in your prosperity, He is not whispering some optional side-note to the gospel; He is shouting from the finished work of the cross. Jesus did not leave heaven’s riches and become poor so that we could stay broke while pretending spirituality. No, He swapped places with us so that the same abundance that marked His pre-incarnate glory could mark our lives today. The logic is airtight: if the curse included lack and the cross removed the curse, then lack has no legal right to remain in the life of a believer who stands in faith.

Look again at Luke 6:38. Jesus is addressing disciples who have left everything to follow Him. He is not offering vague spiritual encouragement; He is giving a financial operating system for the kingdom age. The measure you use—whether stingy drops or generous buckets—sets the size of the return. God honors the faith behind the gift, not the amount alone. That is why the widow’s two mites outshone the rich men’s large sums. Faith, not figure, moves heaven.

And 2 Corinthians 8:9 is no isolated proof-text. Paul writes it in the middle of chapters devoted entirely to cheerful, abundant giving for the relief of the saints. He’s talking about that dirty money stuff. The context screams material provision. As Andrew Wommack says, “Text without context, is a con.” The context is money. Jesus became poor—literally stripped naked, penniless, buried in a borrowed tomb—so that you might become rich in every sense the word carries in the New Testament: financial riches included. When flesh tries to spiritualize that away, it is rejecting the gospel of Jesus Christ.

It is a strange deception, but the faithless use idea of a “spiritual” from a human or fleshly starting point, and not defined by the scripture. This is why it deceives so many. Faithless people prefer definitions based on the flesh, rather than the word. To say Jesus’ poetry and our riches were spiritual, is a fleshly and carnal reading of this passage. They are “spiritual perverts” and so it is natural for them to f@#k up terms like spiritual, and then pervert its meaning.

Mark 10:29-30 takes it further. Jesus does not say “maybe later in heaven” or “only spiritual houses and lands.” He says “now in this present age.” One hundredfold now. That is not a promise reserved for apostles; it is spoken to every disciple who leaves houses, family, or lands for the gospel’s sake. The same Jesus who multiplied fish and bread is still multiplying resources for those who put the kingdom first.

Third John 2 ties the bow: beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers. John, the apostle of love, does not separate spiritual health from material blessing. When the soul feeds on the Word and faith rises, the outer life is invited to match it. God’s will is not divided; it is whole. It is carnal thinking and human observation that likes to divides the things that God has put together as one, whether it is marriage or the gospel.

Malachi 3:10 still roars under the New Covenant because the principle of firstfruits and honoring God with substance never expired. Jesus Himself affirmed tithing in Matthew 23:23 while rebuking the Pharisees for neglecting justice and mercy. The windows of heaven are not closed; they are waiting for the faith that opens them. When you bring the tithe, God rebukes the devourer and pours out blessing until there is no room to receive it. Room—literal, physical, wallet-stretching room.

Second Corinthians 9 builds the case like a master builder. Sow sparingly, reap sparingly. Sow bountifully, reap bountifully. Then comes the clincher: God is able to make all grace abound toward you. All grace—not just spiritual, but the grace that includes financial sufficiency so you can abound to every good work. He enriches you for the very purpose of generosity. This is not a prosperity scheme invented by men; this is divine strategy to keep the river flowing from heaven to earth and back again.

The Abrahamic covenant seals it. Galatians 3:13-14 and 3:29 declare that Christ redeemed us from the curse so that the blessing of Abraham might come upon us. What was that blessing? Cattle, silver, gold, favor with kings, supernatural increase. If you belong to Christ, you are Abraham’s seed and an heir according to the promise. The power to get wealth is still part of the package (Deuteronomy 8:18), now ensured by the blood of the Contract and the honor of Jesus’s Name.

Attacking the teaching on giving is attacking the pipeline Jesus installed. You cannot disconnect the hose and still expect the water to reach your yard. The same faith that receives healing receives provision. Scripture makes no division. To criticize the offering while enjoying the blessing is to saw off the branch you are sitting on—then blame the tree for falling.

The gospel is not a poverty program with occasional miracles; it is God showing off His lavish supply. Stop the games. Give cheerfully. Laugh in the devil’s face while you write the check, because you know the return is already en route. Expect the tidal wave. God is not clutching a tight budget spreadsheet in heaven; He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and the gold in every mine. He delights in surplus for His kids—enough to silence every scoffer and bankroll the Great Commission until every tribe has heard.

So rise up. Tithe like it is the most natural thing in the world, because in the kingdom it is. Offer beyond the tithe with joy. Decree the hundredfold harvest over your finances, your business, your family, your future. Speak it out loud: “By faith I receive the pressed-down, shaken-together, running-over return in Jesus’ name.” Your prosperity is not a maybe; it is a locked-in, blood-bought promise activated the moment faith takes the wheel.

And here is the beautiful part that makes heaven cheer and hell panic: when you obey by faith, Jesus turns around and boasts about you to the Father. He points to your life and says, “Look at My child—walking in the wealth I provided because they trusted Me.” You get the wealth, God gets the glory, the kingdom advances, and scoffers are silenced. Win after win after win.

The flesh may squirm and the critics may complain, but the river keeps flowing for those who refuse to unplug the pipeline.

Do Not Restrict The Spirit With Silence

Saying women must stay totally silent in church—to the point they can’t pray aloud, sing, or operate the gifts of the Spirit like prophecy—isn’t harmless tradition. It’s straight-up resistance to the Holy Spirit, flirting with the very blasphemy Jesus warned about. Fleshly control dressed up as “order”? Hard pass.

First off, 1 Corinthians 11:5 isn’t whispering in a corner—it flat-out assumes women are already praying and prophesying right there in the public gathering. Paul says “every woman who prays or prophesies” with her head covered (or not) is the issue, not whether she does it at all. That’s the “when,” not the “if.” Same letter, same churches. Flip to chapter 14:34-35 and you get “women should remain silent.” Boom—looks like a clash, right? But deduction from the Logos says Scripture doesn’t play gotcha games with itself. Paul isn’t schizophrenic; he’s the guy who just spent the whole chapter regulating prophecy and tongues so everything stays “decent and in order.” The silence command sits smack in the middle of that chaos-control section, right after instructions on how prophecy should flow orderly.

Look, 1 Timothy 2:11-12 is crystal clear: women are to learn in quietness and full submission, not to teach or exercise authority over a man. That’s the biblical line on roles, straight from creation order—Adam first, then Eve. Paul doesn’t stutter. But zoom out, church. The same apostle, writing to the same churches, assumes women are already praying and prophesying right there in the assembly. 1 Corinthians 11:5 says, “But every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head—it is the same as having her head shaved.”

Context check: this is the public gathering, not “in your prayer closet with just you and hubby.” Boom. Paul isn’t saying if she prays or prophesies—he’s saying when she does. Head covering honors the order; the praying and prophesying? Fully expected. The Spirit moves through daughters just like sons. The same Holy Ghost who filled the Upper Room didn’t suddenly get gender-specific stage fright.

Flip over to Acts 2:17-18, quoting Joel: “In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy… Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy.” Peter didn’t slip in a sneaky footnote: “Except in church, ladies—zip it.” This is New Covenant reality. Philip’s four daughters were known prophets (Acts 21:9). The Spirit doesn’t play favorites or half-measures. He hands out gifts—tongues, prophecy, healing, words of knowledge—as He wills, to build up the whole body. Silencing half the body isn’t submission. It’s doctrinal amputation. Ouch.

And 1 Corinthians 14:34-35? “Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says.” Context, people. Right before this, Paul is regulating prophecy and tongues so everything stays decent and in order—not nuking the gifts. The “speaking” here targets disruptive chatter—wives probably grilling or contradicting their husbands’ prophecies mid-service, or wielding gifts in a way that steamrolled male leadership by overly drawing attention to themselves. I’ve seen the flip side too: women who claim “I’m under authority” but somehow end up front-and-center, loud, and calling themselves pastors. That’s not submission; that’s disobedience.

It’s easy to yank verses out of context and ignore systematic theology. Take 1 John 5:19—pure gold: “the whole world is under the sway of the evil one.” At first glance it sounds like planet-wide lockdown, right? It doesn’t just say “world,” but “the whole world,” so it must mean all, right? There cannot be any other meaning, right? Flip back one verse: “the one born of God is kept safe, and the evil one does not touch him” (5:18). Plus we’re explicitly “not of the world” (John 15:19; 17:14-16). If Christians got lumped in, you’d have the Holy Spirit under Satan’s thumb. Not only a contradiction—you’d be blaspheming the Spirit Himself. Deduction wins: “whole world” = the unbelieving system, not us. “Whole” doesn’t always mean “whole,” in all possible ways.

Key Discussion in Systematic Theology 

In the section on hermeneutics and interpretation (pp. 156–158 in Vincent Cheung’s “Systematic Theology*”), Cheung nails it:

 “However, only the most untrained and naïve exegete would assume that the words ‘all’ and ‘everyone’ in the Bible always refer to all human beings. There are endless examples in our daily speech in which the scope of these seemingly universal terms are limited by the context…”

He gives examples:

Matthew 10:22 (“All men will hate you because of me…”) — Context (vv. 21, 23) and historical setting (1st-century Israel) restrict “all men” to relevant unbelievers (e.g., family betrayers, those rejecting the gospel), not every human alive or ever.

Romans 8:32 (“He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all…”) — “Us all” refers only to the elect/chosen (per the chapter’s context and Romans 1:7), not every person.

Acts 2:17 (“I will pour out my Spirit on all people”) — Restricted by surrounding verses to ethnic/national universality (“from every nation”) among “all whom the Lord our God will call” (i.e., the elect), not every individual.

Other cases: “All the Jews” in Acts 26:4 means those relevant to Paul’s situation, not literally every Jew; “everything under his feet” in Psalm 8:6/1 Corinthians 15:27 excludes God himself.

He applies similar logic to “world” (kosmos) and “whole world”:

1 John 5:19 (“the whole world lieth in wickedness”) — Refers to the realm of non-Christians/unbelievers under Satan’s influence (the “world” as opposed to the elect/church), not every person literally or the physical planet in a salvific sense. This fits the systematic distinction between elect and reprobate.

“World” often denotes fallen humanity in its rebellion (not implying universal salvation or love in a saving sense for all individuals). God’s providential/natural benefits may extend broadly, but spiritual love and atonement are particular to the elect.

Cheung stresses systematic context throughout: Interpretation must integrate the whole of Scripture (clarity of Scripture, but with diligence against distortion—see 2 Peter 3:16). Naïve out-of-context readings lead to errors like universalism or Arminian misapplications.

Our approach to biblical interpretation consistently emphasizes contextual exegesis over isolated literalism, much like his handling of terms such as “all,” “world,” or “whole world” (as discussed previously). We apply the same principle here: Scripture must be read in light of its immediate context, the broader biblical teaching, and logical consistency, without forcing contradictions.

1 John 5:19 move is the chef’s kiss. “The whole world is under the sway of the evil one” can’t swallow up believers, or you’d have the Holy Spirit under Satan’s thumb—total contradiction, and we’d be blaspheming the One who keeps us safe (v.18). Context and the whole of Scripture limit the scope, just like with those “all” and “world” examples. Same principle here: “silent” doesn’t mean mute button when the same apostle already green-lit public praying and prophesying a few chapters earlier. Scriptural Deduction wins again, as it always does; Paul’s keeping the wind orderly, not tying it down like a kite in a hurricane.

So when Paul says women must “remain silent,” does he mean mute in every way in the assembly? No. Just like “whole world” in 1 John doesn’t include believers, Paul already affirmed (a few chapters earlier in the same letter!) that a woman prays and prophesies with a symbol of authority on her head.

Total silence would contradict his own teaching.

Paul isn’t schizophrenic. He’s keeping chaos out of the assembly and protecting male leadership while the Spirit still flows freely. Sing? Ephesians 5:19 commands all of us—“speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit.” Pray? The whole church is told to pray without ceasing. A total mute button on women? That’s not Scripture. That’s religious flesh trying to play air-traffic controller with the wind of God.

Here’s the sharp edge: Jesus called blasphemy against the Holy Spirit the one unforgivable sin—attributing the Spirit’s clear, powerful works to Satan or stubbornly resisting them (Matthew 12:31-32). In the blasphemy essay I wrote, I laid it out: when someone whispers “dial it back” on miracles, healing, or gifts, red flags everywhere. They might be channeling opposition without realizing it. The Pharisees watched the Spirit heal a blind, mute, demon-possessed man through Jesus and said, “Beelzebul.” Same spirit today when folks say the Spirit’s gifts can’t operate through women in church. You’re not “being careful.” You’re quenching the Spirit (1 Thessalonians 5:19-20: “Do not quench the Spirit. Do not treat prophecies with contempt”). You’re telling the wind of God, “Blow only where I say.” That’s muzzling the Spirit like a dog and calling it order. I’d politely suggest they muzzle their mouths first—hoping it’s not too late and they haven’t already crossed the line.

The kingdom of God is not advanced by telling the Spirit to shut up but by obeying Jesus’ command to be filled with the Spirit and power, in and out of an official church meeting. There is no other way but this way of truth and power.

Jesus the Healing Hero – IS the Gospel

Right from the opening pages of the Bible, God doesn’t ease in with pleasantries. He drops the declaration of war and victory in the same breath. After the fall, He turns to the serpent and says, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel” (Genesis 3:15). Think about that for a second. Before Adam and Eve even finish sewing their fig leaves, God is already pointing to Jesus—the promised Seed—and saying, “This Hero is coming to end you.” Satan gets a bruised heel. Jesus gets total conquest. That’s the opening scene of the whole story. The protoevangelium is not some poetic footnote; it is the explosive launch sequence of redemptive history, the first unmistakable shout that the Seed of the woman would march straight into the fight and settle the score once and for all.

Satan didn’t charge in like some obvious monster. The coward used lies. “Did God really say?” he whispered, and the doubt took root (Genesis 3:1). They ate, and God kept His word exactly as He said He would. The curse hit creation hard—thorns, pain, death, the whole mess (Genesis 3:16-19). And from that day forward the devil has exploited it nonstop, hammering people with his favorite dirty weapon: sickness. It’s how he oppresses, how he victimizes, how he keeps humans under his thumb. Sickness isn’t neutral. It’s bad. Straight-up evil. Let’s be real—Scripture never once calls disease a helpful life coach or a mysterious divine favor. Jesus looked at that woman bent double for eighteen years and named the culprit outright: “Satan has kept her bound” (Luke 13:16). John 10:10 draws the battle line with zero ambiguity: the thief steals, kills, and destroys; Jesus brings life to the full. The fingerprints don’t lie.

That’s why when Peter stands up for the very first official gospel sermon to Gentiles in Acts 10, he doesn’t start with abstract theology. As Vincent Cheung points out in “The Dividing Line,” Peter tells the classic hero-versus-villain story God loves telling. “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him” (Acts 10:38). Satan is the bad guy. Sickness is his bad tool. Jesus the Hero shows up anointed with power and starts setting people free from it—one healing after another. God is perfectly happy framing the good news this way. No need to complicate it. The simple showdown works just fine. Peter could have opened with justification by faith or the doctrine of election—glorious truths, no argument there—but the Spirit led him to lead with power and healing, because that is how the gospel first detonated into the Gentile world. Goodness and healing are welded together in the same sentence. Oppression and the devil are welded together in the same sentence. The Bible refuses to separate them, and frankly, neither should we.

Peace comes through violence and conquest, not some polite negotiation. The Son of God appeared for this very reason—to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). He didn’t just rescue us from the judgment we deserved; He yanked us out of the original villain’s grip too. Forgiveness? Yes. But also tangible freedom right now. Notice Satan’s go-to weapon is always sickness. That’s bad. Healing is good. Jesus healing every single person oppressed by the devil is the Bible’s hero story preached at the launch of Gentile ministry. Matthew 8:16-17 makes the connection unmistakable: “He drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: ‘He took up our infirmities and bore our diseases.’” The cross wasn’t only about sin. The same atoning work that substituted guilt for righteousness, substituted sickness for healing. Isaiah 53:4-5 and 1 Peter 2:24 stand shoulder to shoulder—by His wounds you have been healed. The Greek tenses shout finished reality. Not “maybe someday.” Not “if it’s God’s will in some vague sense.” Healed. Period.

Picture the devil showing up at the cross like a landlord waving an overdue rent notice marked “sickness stays forever,” and Jesus just rips the contract in half, spikes it to the wood with the nails, and laughs out loud while every demon in the vicinity does the fastest tactical retreat in history. The same Spirit and power that rested on Him to destroy oppression now rests on us. Stop playing victim to a defeated snake. You’re seated with the Hero who crushed his head (Romans 16:20). The devil is not your personal trainer. He is a conquered foe whose only remaining strategy is to convince you the fight is still fair. It isn’t—come on, the head is already crushed.

The faithless try to muddy the water with their “maybe God is using sickness to teach you” nonsense. That’s like cheering for the villain in the movie because it “builds character.” Dumb. Jesus already bore our sicknesses and carried our pains so we wouldn’t have to. By His stripes we are healed. It’s like the devil is still trying to collect rent on a house Jesus already foreclosed on, burned to the ground, and turned into a victory bonfire while the angels roasted marshmallows over the flames. The same Spirit and power that rested on Him to destroy oppression now rests on us. Stop playing victim to a defeated snake. You’re seated with the Hero who crushed his head (Romans 16:20).

Command that sickness to leave in Jesus’ name. Lay hands on the sick and expect recovery (Mark 16:17-18). Believe like the victory is already yours—because it is. The gospel is still advancing through power, healing, and authority in Christ. Live it out loud. The Hero won the war. Now go enforce the victory.

Let me press this a little deeper, because the stakes are eternal. When Jesus sent out the Twelve and then the Seventy-two, He gave them authority over all the power of the enemy and told them to heal the sick (Luke 9:1-2; 10:9). That commission did not expire at the end of the first century. The same Jesus who walked the shores of Galilee is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). The same Spirit who raised Him from the dead lives in every believer (Romans 8:11). If sickness were somehow God’s loving tool, then Jesus would have been working against the Father every time He healed someone. That is theological insanity. The Father anointed the Son precisely to destroy what the devil had built. Every miracle was a preview of the age to come crashing into the present. Every healing was a declaration: the kingdom is here, the curse is broken, the Hero has arrived.

When Christians remain in sickness, besetting sins, broken relationships and poverty, it is Satan’s middle finger at God shouting, that Jesus’ kingdom is not here and the curse is not broken and the Hero did not arrive.

Some will object that not everyone gets healed instantly. Fair observation, however, because it is based on observation it is logically irrelevant for knoweldge. Notice what Jesus never did: He never blamed the Father for the delay. He never told the sick to embrace their condition as a gift. He blamed unbelief when it blocked the flow (Mark 6:5-6), and He trained His disciples to keep pressing until faith rose. Paul left Trophimus sick, not because sickness was God’s will, but because the apostolic team was on mission and timing mattered (2 Timothy 4:20). Yet the same Paul commanded the church at Corinth to examine itself so they would not be weak or sick (1 Corinthians 11:29-30). Sickness was the exception to be judged and removed, not the rule to be celebrated. The New Testament pattern is relentless: preach the gospel, heal the sick, cast out demons, raise the dead. That is not optional flavor. That is the normal Christian life.

Think about the woman with the issue of blood. She had suffered for twelve years, spent everything on doctors, and grew worse (Mark 5:25-26). The doctors could not help because the real oppressor was not a germ or a hormone—it was the kingdom of darkness. She touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed instantly. Jesus called her “daughter” and sent her away in peace. That is the gospel in miniature. The Hero sees the victim, feels compassion, and ends the oppression on the spot. He is still doing it. The same power that flowed through His robe now flows through His body on earth—you and me. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead and put Him above all names, times and places is the same power the works in us who believe (Eph 1:19-21).

So grab your spiritual eviction notice, look that defeated snake square in the eye, and say, “Not today, not tomorrow, not ever again—your lease was canceled at Calvary, and the new Landlord is moving in with healing, power, and zero tolerance for your sh@t.” The gospel is not a theory to be debated in seminaries. It is power to be demonstrated in streets, homes, and everywhere. Peter preached it that way to Cornelius’ house, and the Holy Spirit fell while he was still speaking (Acts 10:44). The same thing can happen when you open your mouth with the same message.

The devil has had two thousand years to refine his lies, but the Hero has already crushed his head, and God’s truth is indomitable. The blood still speaks. The name still works. The Spirit still moves. Sickness is still bad. Healing is still good. And Jesus the Healing Hero is still the gospel.

 Watch the kingdom advance exactly as it did in the book of Acts. The victory is already yours. Now go enforce it with joy, with boldness, and with the full expectation that the same HERO who healed all who were oppressed by the devil, is now sitting at the Power’s right hand, doing it through you.

Aliens Cannot Disagree With the Bible

The cultural tide is turning right now. The United States agencies are beginning releasing government files on UFOs, UAPs, and potential extraterrestrial life. More unexplained incidents that cannot be classified as modern human technology will soon enter the public conversation. Many people — even Christians — will feel unsettled.

Satan, who holds the whole world in his sway (1 John 5:19), will not miss this moment. His endgame has always been to attack the exclusive lordship of Jesus Christ. Expect a new rhetoric to spread: “Jesus was an alien — one of several powerful star lords from across the galaxy.” Then will come claims of a new “star lord” or ascended being arriving with fresh revelations for humanity. Its the same game the same trick, over and over. We know how the evil one works.

This is not new revelation. It is ancient idolatry wearing a sci-fi costume.

We already have documented cases of people (see creation.com) — many of them atheists or agnostics — experiencing what they call alien abductions. In their final desperation they cried out, “Jesus, help me!” and the experience stopped instantly. Some of those people later became Christians. Why would beings from another planet respect and flee at the name of a Jesus Christ? The answer is obvious: because they are not extraterrestrials. They are demonic entities.

Most reported experiences come from degraded minds, fear, drugs, or advanced human technology. But a genuine subset is demonic. As Paul wrote, when people sacrifice to idols they are actually sacrificing to demons (1 Corinthians 10:20). When men give themselves over to the obsession of seeking “higher beings,” “star people,” or alien contact, they are not innocently curious. They are ramming a bulldozer through the front door of their soul and exposing themselves completely to demonic harassment.

Remember Moses and Pharaoh’s magicians. Those pagan sorcerers performed real supernatural acts — their staffs really became snakes. The Bible says so. The power was genuine, but limited, demonic, and ultimately powerless before the true God. The same limit applies today. Demonic manifestations can produce lights in the sky, fast-moving objects, and strange encounters — but they collapse before the name and authority of Jesus Christ, because He has already triumphed over them (Colossians 2:15).

Demons love this game. Show the stupid humans some shiny lights and unnatural motion and they chase the distraction instead of the Creator. Satan is playing with humans like a human plays with a cat using a laser pointer.

The Theological Reality

Could intelligent extraterrestrial life exist somewhere? Theologically it is possible — God could have created it. But it is highly, highly unlikely, and even if it did exist it would have zero relevance to us. Why? Because Scripture declares that all things are summed up in Jesus Christ (Ephesians 1:10). Humanity, created in God’s image and redeemed by the blood of the eternal Son, is the pinnacle of creation. The incarnation, the cross, and the resurrection happened here, for us. Unless the Bible itself tells us something is summed up in Christ or has direct bearing on His redemptive work, it is ultimately irrelevant to the Christian life and worldview.

Jesus is not “one of the star lords.” He is the Logos — the eternal Reason and Creator through whom all things were made and in whom all things hold together (John 1:1-3; Colossians 1:16-17). Any narrative that reduces Him to one being among many is already false on its face.

The Real Refutation: Presuppositional Collapse

But here is where the discussion becomes simple — almost boringly straightforward for anyone who understands biblical apologetics.

The same fatal flaw that destroys every anti-Christian worldview destroys the entire alien/star-lord mythology before it can even get off the ground.

All things necessary for intelligence only converge in the Christian worldview. Knowledge, logic, categories of thought.

When the mind looks at a scene — whether lights in the sky, supposed alien craft, or claims of new spiritual teachers — it does more than receive raw impressions. It interprets using concepts such as contradiction, identity, difference, number, relation, time, and cause (etc.). All these concepts are necessary in order to have intelligence about anything.  A first principle that does not give us knowledge and justify these, does not make intelligence possible. Starting points such as empiricism and materialism, and naturalism, or any worldview with any reliance on empiricism at all cannot justify these things that we must have in order to think and say something with meaning.

First, the categories of thought that make intelligence itself possible. To even formulate or argue this theory, one must employ fundamental categories: identity and difference (distinguishing “Jesus” from other supposed lords), cause and effect (claiming His name causes the entities to flee), unity and plurality (a cosmic hierarchy of multiple powers), substance and attribute, time, relation, and number. These are not learned from experience—whether from abduction reports, UFO videos, or ancient astronaut theories. They are the logical preconditions for any meaningful experience whatsoever.

How could anyone “learn” causality by observing sequences of alleged alien events unless he already assumed that every event must have a cause? The empiricist pushing “evidence-based” alien-Jesus speculation is caught in hopeless circularity: he uses the category of cause to justify the category of cause. The rationalist who tries to reason his way to a polytheistic star-lord federation without biblical revelation fares no better—his innate ideas float in mid-air with no ontological anchor. Only the biblical God, whose mind is the source of all rational order, provides that foundation.

Second, science—the great idol of modern unbelief. Every interpretation of “aliens traveling interstellar distances,” “consistent abduction patterns,” or “Jesus operating within discoverable cosmic rules” secretly assumes the uniformity of nature: that the future will resemble the past, and that the laws observed today will hold tomorrow across the universe. Yet no amount of past observation can guarantee future uniformity on naturalistic, evolutionary, or multi-lord grounds. David Hume saw the problem centuries ago and despaired. Bertrand Russell admitted that science rests on a “postulate” it cannot prove.

The unbeliever nevertheless proceeds as if induction is reliable. Why? Because he is stealing from the Bible—which declares he is wrong and that only its revelation is true. Scripture alone grounds the uniformity of nature in the faithful providence of the one sovereign Creator (Colossians 1:17). Your “Star lords” theory offers no such guarantee; it secretly borrows rationality from the very worldview it attacks.

Third, the fatal flaw in probability arguments. When unbelievers say the biblical resurrection or miracles are “highly improbable” if Jesus were merely an advanced extraterrestrial, or that a hierarchy of Star lords is “more likely given the size of the universe,” they commit a devastating epistemological error. To calculate any probability, one must know the complete denominator—the full, overarching set of all relevant possibilities. Finite humans do not and cannot possess that exhaustive knowledge. If they somehow already knew the denominator, they would possess knowledge far greater than what their observations provide, rendering the entire appeal to probability irrelevant. Their calculations are therefore not science but prejudice dressed up as numbers.

Fourth, the active interpreting mind. When the mind looks at a report of strange lights, beings, or an abduction that halts at the name of Jesus, it does more than receive raw impressions. It actively interprets the scene using concepts such as identity, difference, number, relation, time, and cause—categories that are logically prior to experience, not derived from it. A child tracking a ball flying through the air already employs time and continuity to follow its motion from one moment to the next. Without these, there is no “motion,” no “through the air,” no coherent sequence—only a disconnected blur of sensations that cannot even be called a blur. When the same mind declares that “the name of Jesus stopped the entity,” it invokes causality and relation. To recognize any pattern at all—let alone a cosmic federation of Star lords—requires identity through time and rules for connecting one case with another. The alien theory cannot account for why these interpretations correspond to reality rather than demonic deception or hallucination. Only revelation from the God who created both the mind and the world in perfect correspondence provides that.

In the end, this entire hypothesis saws off the branch it sits on. It depends at every point on the Christian worldview for its intelligibility while reducing the eternal Creator and Ruler of heaven and earth (Acts 17:24) to one creature among many. It is self-refuting speculative philosophy of the worst kind.”[1]

Logic: Where does the unbeliever (or the new-age star-lord enthusiast) get the laws of logic he uses to argue for aliens or against the exclusivity of Christ? From the eternal Logos — the Lord Jesus Christ Himself (John 1:1; Colossians 2:3), in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. He is not one “star lord” among many. He is the eternal Reason by which all things were created and by which all things hold together.

Science itself — the great hope of those searching for extraterrestrial life — fares no better on non-Christian grounds. Every search for aliens assumes induction: that the future will resemble the past and that laws observed here apply universally. Naturalism cannot justify this. Only the God of Scripture, who faithfully sustains creation, can. The person who says, “Aliens prove the Bible is incomplete or that Jesus is just one being among many” has already stolen the very tools that only the Christian worldview can account for. On his own assumptions, logic is just brain chemistry, categories of thought are evolutionary byproducts or social constructs, and knowledge is impossible. Yet he continues to use them as if they were universal and necessary.

He is like the man who says, “I disagree with the law of non-contradiction” while using that very law to disagree. Or the fish trying to prove the ocean doesn’t exist while swimming in it.

There is no possible world — real or imaginary — where a coherent argument against biblical Christianity can be made, whether from philosophy, science, or supposed alien revelation. All reasoning presupposes the Triune God of Scripture.

God’s revelation in the Bible is the first principle and necessary starting point for all knowledge. Subjects and predicates, logic, truth, and intelligence itself are defined by God’s mind, decree, and Word. As 2 Timothy 3:16-17 declares, all Scripture is God-breathed, equipping us for every good work — including the work of thinking clearly about lights in the sky and spiritual deceptions.

Jesus Christ is the Logos. The law of non-contradiction flows from God’s unchanging character. In Him all things consist. Any “new revelation” from a so-called star lord that contradicts the Bible is immediately exposed as false, because the Bible says it is true and all others are false. It needs no permission from human reason, government disclosures, or demonic manifestations.

Philosophy cannot disagree with the Bible. 

Science cannot disagree with the Bible. 

And supposed aliens or new star lords certainly cannot disagree with the Bible without using it. But the bible they are using says it alone is true and all others are false by logical exclusion (See Vincent Cheung. Captive to Reason pg. 44. 2005/2009.)

This is why apologetics is boring in a sense. All anti-Christinas have the same dumb human speculation and illogical superstition. Our apologetic is always the same: divine revelation. Thus our answer and attack is always the same.


[1]  Paraphrased summaries (adapted to present topic of aliens) and informed by Vincent Cheung’s ‘Paul and the Philosophers’ (2025) and his other works on biblical apologetics” See His works for more.”

Philosophy Cannot Disagree With the Bible

Someone asked: “Why does philosophy disagree with the Bible?” 

Simple answer: It doesn’t. It can’t. 

Imagine trying to argue that “2 + 2 = 5” while using math that only works if 2 + 2 really equals 4. You’d be using the very rule you’re denying. That’s silly, right? The contradiction sits there naked, impossible to hide.

That’s exactly what happens when someone says, “Philosophy disagrees with the Bible.” It’s like the moron who says, “I disagree with the law of non-contradiction.” They use the thing they claim to disagree with to make their disagreement possible in the first place. The very sentence they utter borrows the logic they pretend to reject.

People sometimes ask, “Why does philosophy disagree with the Bible?” But here’s the truth: it can’t. There is no possible world—real or imaginary—where true philosophy stands apart from Scripture. And the reason is simple: the Bible isn’t just part of philosophy; it is the foundation of all philosophy.

To argue against the Scripture, the unbeliever must employ logic, reason, and coherence. Yet, on his own secular, materialistic assumptions, universal and immaterial laws of logic cannot be justified. He is forced to borrow from the Christian worldview—where logic is grounded in the infallible mind of God—in order to construct an argument against God.

The unbeliever who says, “Philosophy shows the Bible is wrong,” has already borrowed the very tools that only the Christian worldview can justify. Where does he get the laws of logic? From the mind of the Logos, the eternal Reason who is Christ (John 1:1, Colossians 2:3). Where does he get the uniformity of nature that allows him to reason from cause to effect? From the sovereign God who “upholds all things by the word of His power” (Hebrews 1:3). Where does he get the moral indignation to accuse the Bible of injustice? From the image of God stamped upon his soul, which he suppresses in unrighteousness (Romans 1:18-21). Where does he the concepts of time and the law of identity? He cannot even open his mouth to object without standing on ground that belongs to the Triune God of Scripture.

Where does he get such laws? If his worldview is materialistic, logic is nothing but electrochemical fizz in the brain—contingent, local, and changeable. If his worldview is evolutionary, logic is a survival mechanism that might have been otherwise. If his worldview is pluralistic or postmodern, logic is a social construct. In every case the laws lose their necessity and universality. Yet he continues to use them as if they were eternal and absolute. He steals from the Christian worldview, where logic is the reflection of the mind of the eternal Logos, the Lord Jesus Christ, “in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Colossians 2:3). Without the Christian God, logic collapses into absurdity. The unbeliever cannot even deny God without first affirming the very rationality that only God supplies.

Next, the categories of thought that make intelligence possible. Identity and difference, cause and effect, unity and plurality, substance and attribute—these are not learned from experience. They are the preconditions for experience. How could anyone “learn” causality by observing sequences of events unless he already assumed that every event must have a cause? The empiricist is caught in hopeless circularity: he uses the category of cause to justify the category of cause. The rationalist without revelation fares no better; his innate ideas float in mid-air with no ontological anchor.

Science, the great idol of modern unbelief, fares no better. Every experiment assumes the uniformity of nature—that the future will resemble the past, that the laws observed today will hold tomorrow. Yet no amount of past observation can guarantee future uniformity on naturalistic grounds. David Hume saw the problem centuries ago and despaired. Bertrand Russell admitted that science rests on a “postulate” it cannot prove. The unbeliever nevertheless proceeds as if induction is reliable. Why? Because steals from the bible, which says he is wrong and only it is true.

When unbelievers use probability as a path to truth (such as dismissing the resurrection as “highly improbable”), Vincent Cheung points out a fatal flaw (see “Paul and the Philosophers” and his other apologetic works. These have helped me understand some of these forementioned points above.). To calculate probability, one must know the “denominator”—the complete, overarching set of all relevant possibilities. If you lack comprehensive knowledge, you cannot establish that denominator. If you somehow already knew the denominator, you would possess knowledge far greater than what the specific experiment or observation offers, rendering the experiment irrelevant.

“When the mind looks at a scene, it does more than receive raw impressions. It interprets using concepts such as identity, difference, number, relation, time, and cause. These are not derived from experience; they are logically prior to it. A child tracking a ball flying through the air already employs time and continuity to follow its motion from one moment to the next. Without these categories, there is no “motion,” no “through the air,” no coherent sequence—only a disconnected blur of sensations that cannot even be called a blur. When the same child declares that the ball broke the window, he invokes causality. To recognize any pattern at all requires identity through time and rules for connecting one case with another.” (A paraphrased summary from “Paul and the Philosophers.” Vincent Cheung.)

In Systematic Theology 2025 I explain that God’s revelation is the first principle of all knowledge—the starting point for everything we can know or think. All the things necessary for any intelligence only converge in the biblical worldview. You can’t even get to logic, truth, or intelligence unless God reveals Himself. Revelation is not one option among many; it is the necessary ground beneath every thought we think. Without this divine starting point, every claim collapses into skepticism, because there is nothing left to justify why your thoughts should match reality at all.

This is why I stress the first principle of Scripture for all public knowledge and the method of it being self-authenticating for apologetics. The Bible doesn’t need permission from human reason to have knowledge. Rather, subjects and predicates get their definition from God’s Mind, decree and revelation. And His nature is revealed in His Word. As 2 Timothy 3:16-17 declares with divine authority, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” That “every good work” includes the work of thinking, reasoning, and building a coherent worldview.

The Bible isn’t just a book about ethics. It is the very definition of systematic philosophy. It tells us where truth comes from, who God is, what logic is, and how to think straight. Jesus Himself is called the Logos— He is the law of contradiction and naturally used this thinking motion to create the universe (John 1:1). “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.” This is no mere metaphor. The eternal Son is the wisdom or reason or logic. Colossians 2:3 adds that in Christ “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” The law of non-contradiction? It comes from God’s unchanging character; meaning, the law of contradiction is simply one of the eternal constant motions of God’s thinking. You can’t throw that law out the window and still have a conversation that makes sense, because without it language dissolves into gibberish and thought becomes impossible.

So when a person tries to use reason to attack the Bible, they are actually standing on the Bible’s own foundation to do it. They borrow God’s rules of thinking and intelligence while claiming God’s rules are false. That’s not clever—it’s impossible. There is no reality where this works. It’s like a fish trying to prove the ocean doesn’t exist while swimming in it. Talk about an intellectual own-goal: flapping around in denial while the very medium that makes flapping possible laughs at the absurdity.

Every true philosopher must begin with scripture. Anyone who doesn’t, is not really philosophizing—they’re just daydreaming with big words.

Most people think of philosophy as a neutral playground where we decide what is true. That’s a dumb mistake. There is no neutral ground. To “disagree” with the Bible using philosophy is like trying to use the rules of mathematics to prove that numbers don’t exist. It’s a personal malfunction and not actual philosophy, because you’re denying the very foundation of your own thoughts. Men can come together and pretend to have a philosophy, but that’s all it is—men in a mental delusion. There was never any philosophy; they only pretended. But it only takes one person to stop pretending and the game is up. I will be the person. I will not pretend with them.

Philosophy cannot question the Bible without ceasing to be philosophy. Philosophy only starts with the Bible, because the bible says so. You also must start with the bible so that your questions have intelligence. If you reject the Word of God, you lose the right to claim that anything is knowledge and that anything you say has any intelligence.

Stop trying to find knowledge from the outside looking in. Step into the Light, and you’ll realize the Light was what allowed you to see the path all along. Wisdom only begins with God. Intelligence ends at any disagreement with God.

So here’s the bottom line: A philosopher who rejects Scripture has already rejected the foundation of philosophy itself. They were never a philosopher. They only pretend to be one.

You can pretend to disagree with Scripture, but you can’t form a logical disagreement without first borrowing the very tools—logic, truth, coherence, intelligence, knowledge, subject and predicates—that only come from God’s revelation. That’s why Scripture never trembles before human questioning. It stands firm because it is the mind of God revealed. As 1 Corinthians 2:16 asks, “For who has known the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?” Yet we have the mind of Christ.

When we align our thinking with Scripture, we aren’t limiting ourselves—we’re finally standing on the only solid ground for the pursuit of wisdom and intelligence. In a world of shifting sands and human opinion, the Word of God remains the rock that cannot be shaken. Let all who seek truth come here, bow before the King of kings, and find the true beginning of philosophy—not as man’s invention, but as God’s gift to those who fear Him.

Let God’s sovereignty be a foundation for more and more healings and miracles. Let His Word be our theology, our doxology, and our apologetic. 

Endnote: “This presentation has been informed by Vincent Cheung’s ‘Paul and the Philosophers’ (2025) and his other works on biblical apologetics.” See His works for more.”

The God of Peace Will Crush

Ah, the God of peace—sounds like a serene deity lounging on clouds, doesn’t it? But flip open your Bible, and you’ll see He’s more like a divine general, marching into battle with a strategy that leaves enemies flattened. Romans 16:20 declares our thesis statement plainly: “The God of peace will crush Satan under your feet shortly. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Amen.” Notice it was not under God’s feet, but your feet. When Satan eyes meet yours, it should be when he is crushed under your feet. This is the only correct position for Satan to meet your gaze.  

Jesus Himself chimes in from John 16:33: “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” This isn’t some fluffy, feel-good tranquility; it’s peace forged in victory, the kind that comes when God stomps out what’s troubling you. If your idea of peace is just a balanced brain chemistry or a quiet afternoon without the kids yelling, you’re missing the biblical punch. God’s peace is intellectual and material—your mind aligns with His unbreakable promises, stabilizing your whole being, and then reality bends to match, with enemies crushed underfoot. Peace comes through war, blood and triumph.

Let’s unpack this. The Bible hammers home that true peace arrives through conquest, destruction of foes, or flipping former adversaries into allies. You don’t get heart-peace by ignoring the chaos; you get it because God removes the chaos-causer, by destroying it. The enemy isn’t politely asked to leave—he’s demolished. Joshua 21:43-45 spells it out: God handed Israel the promised land, giving them “rest on every side” after delivering enemies into their hands. No foe stood against them because God fulfilled every promise. Rest? Peace? It came post-victory, after the dust settled from crushed opposition. Or take 2 Samuel 7:1: Once David was palace-settled, “the Lord gave him rest from all his enemies around him.” God’s provision of peace followed conquest, not some mystical inner glow detached from reality.

Then there’s 1 Chronicles 22:9, where God promises David a son of peace: “I will give him rest from all his enemies on every side.” Solomon’s reign would embody this—peace through subdued threats. Even Proverbs 16:7 adds a twist: “When a man’s ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.” God doesn’t just crush; sometimes He recalibrates relationships, turning rivals into reluctant allies. But make no mistake, it’s His sovereign hand at work, not some human diplomacy. This isn’t a chemical brain balance or anti-intellectual fuzziness. No, God’s peace is rooted in logic and substance: your mind assents to His truths and promises, renewing your propositional framework to be stable and healthy. That’s why Philippians 4:7 calls it “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding”—not because it’s beyond intellect, but because His promises blanket every life scenario. You might not eyeball the “how” in a tough spot, but faith knows He’ll deliver peace. It will happen.

Jesus embodies this perfectly. He overcame the world, so we cheer amid tribulation. Think Jericho: marching and trumpeting wasn’t busywork; it was praise rooted in promise. God vowed victory, so those walls were toast before the first lap. They praised pre-fall because faith treats God’s word as done deal. God crushed those walls under their feet, bringing peace. Paul’s line in Romans labels God “of peace” precisely because He’ll “soon crush Satan under their feet.” Not in some distant heaven, but here, now. Heaven will be a place of peace, because all enemies will be crushed. Crushing enemies “is” the act of peace-bringing. Jesus nailed this at the cross, pulverizing sickness, poverty, curses—the lot. It’s done. Isaiah 54:17 echoes: “No weapon formed against you will prosper.” Weapons form—tribulations like demons, illness, lack—but cheer up! Jesus defeated them; by faith, they’re soon underfoot.

Don’t get me wrong; this peace starts intellectual, in the mind’s assent to God’s guarantee, but it spills into flesh and circumstance. We praise pre-victory, as with Jericho, because faith’s useless post-fact. It’s for the “before,” fueling praise that knows enemies will crumble, yielding total peace. Peace without crushed foes? That’s non-biblical bunk, a counterfeit calm that leaves Satan smirking.

Dig deeper into Scripture, and this crushes any watered-down view. Isaiah 45:7 has God declaring, “I form light and create darkness; I make peace and create evil; I am Yahweh; I do all these things.” Peace isn’t accidental—God authors it, often through calibrated calamity for the reprobate and triumph for His elect. No weapon prospers against you, but they do form. The promise is simple. With faith the weapons will be ineffective against you. God did not send those people to attack you, and so you are free to condemn them in the name of Jesus and crush them under your feet.  For reprobates, even sunshine fattens them for slaughter (Psalm 73). But for us, temporary trials and forged weapons against us, yield an opportunity for easy game XP for our level ups.

Look at Colossians 1:19-20: “For in Him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross.” Peace via bloodied conquest—Jesus reconciling by demolishing sin’s divide. Or Romans 5:1: “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Justification swaps enmity for alliance, but it’s God’s doing, not our charm.

And Isaiah 53? Brutal beauty: “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.” Chastisement for our peace—Jesus bore the bloody atonement so we carry calm. He says, “My peace I give you” (John 14:27), not some generic vibe, but His substitutionary shalom. Leviticus’ scapegoat “carried away” our sins; same word in Isaiah for Jesus bearing sickness. He was led outside the camp as our diseased substitute, so we don’t carry illness or turmoil, because He carried on Himself so that we don’t. That is what the idea of a substitution means. If you carry the same sickness Jesus carried, then there was no substitution. Peace in soul, body, life—it’s contractual, sealed in blood, already carried away to the grave by Jesus’ substitution.

Hebrews 4 ties peace to approaching God’s throne: redeemed, we boldly ask and receive help. No spiritualizing—it’s literal receipt. Jesus contrasts pagan prayer myths. When the pagans pray they mainly give to their gods, and when they do ask, it is done without much hope, even with trepidation, knowing the request could be used against them. Jesus’ prayer doctrine contradicts this. God gives us a fish for fish, a miracle for a miracle, a child of a child, prosperity for prosperity, a spouse for a spouse and Spirit for Spirit (Matthew 7:7-11). If evil humans give good gifts, how much more our Father? Our Good Father gives us the things we ask for; anything less is demon dogmatics.

This crushes defective ethics peddling unbelief. Faith-fumblers teach God’s stingy or sickness teaches lessons—nonsense! Experience as a teacher is the worst type of teacher. For us, revelation’s our sole teacher of knowledge. Sickness comes from Satan not God. Therefore, destroy it in Jesus’ name, advancing His kingdom. If you are doing something to give a foothold, correct your behavior. To let Satan’s attacks linger glorifies hell, not God. Mindset matters: the atonement is finished and the benefits already deposited into your account by grace. Faith sees them, withdraws at will. Forgiveness, healing, prosperity are not begged, but claimed in faith. The natural man, using the five senses, cannot receive the things of the Spirit, who reveals to us all the good things God has freely deposited to our accounts.

Cheer up! Praise God before the crushing, knowing God’s promises are guaranteed. Peace starts in faith-filled minds, and manifests in crushed foes. Biblical peace is where God’s crushes Satan shortly under your feet. Notice it was not under God’s feet, but your feet. When Satan eyes meet yours, it should be when he is crushed under your feet. This is the only correct position for Satan to meet your gaze.  If doubters peddle less, get them out of your life. For us? We assent, crush, receive and advance. All things possible when you believe—mountains move, enemies flatten. That’s God’s type of peace: conquest, not compromise.

What You Will

John 15:7 packs a divine punch: “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you will, and it shall be done for you.” The main point here is simple, yet it slices through centuries of theological fog like a hot knife through butter. When men scream, “if God wills,” regarding answers to prayer, Jesus—or God, that is—screams the contradiction to this. Jesus says, ask whatever “you will,” and it will be done. When men focus on God’s will, Jesus focuses on our will. This is the Jesus we pray to. He is asking for your will, and He will do it. This is why the “if it is God’s will” focus is a scam. The faith and prayer dogma Jesus taught was about man’s will, not God’s. He said, “What do you want me to do for you?” Yet, the faithless focus on the contradiction to Jesus’ teaching by saying, “What can we do for God?” Jesus’ gospel gives to us; we do not give to Him. This is why His focus is on our will—because from the Garden to Abraham to the gospel being finished, it forces a worldview where God is the one who gives to us and not us to Him. In a world where the gospel has already been accomplished—in a reality where God gives to man, not man to God—Jesus says, “What is your will? Tell Me about it, and I will do it.”

Contrast this with the timid traditions that twist prayer into a guessing game, hedging every request with “if it be Thy will,” as if God were some cosmic bureaucrat withholding stamps of approval. Jesus flips that script entirely—He spotlights the believer’s desire, not divine reluctance. Blind Bartimaeus didn’t mumble about sovereignty; he shouted his will for sight, and Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51). The faithless flip it to “What can we do for God?”—a pious dodge that ignores the gospel’s core: God lavishes on us, from Eden’s abundance where He strolled as Provider, to Abraham’s blockbuster covenant of stars and land (Genesis 15:1-6), sealed in blood as an unbreakable yes through Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). Abraham didn’t earn it by groveling; he believed God’s giving nature, and it was credited as righteousness. The cross finishes this: Jesus absorbs our curse so we inherit the goodies (Galatians 3:13-14). Yet the doubters peddle a scam, fixating on “God’s mysterious will” like it’s a shield for unbelief, denying the Spirit’s miracles and baptism as outdated relics.

The faithless build walls of “what if,” fearing to impose on God, while Jesus urges imposition: “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it” (John 14:13-14). Their worldview starves on self-serving scraps; ours feasts on Abraham’s excess, where God swears by Himself to overflow us with favor, healing, and fruitfulness.

Jesus’ gospel is one-directional: It is God giving to us, not us giving to Him. From the very first moment in the Garden, God is the sole Giver—walking with Adam, freely bestowing paradise, life, dominion, and fellowship without Adam contributing anything. When that original giving was lost, God immediately promised a coming Seed who would crush the serpent and restore.

Centuries later, He appeared to Abraham and unilaterally swore by His own name to give him land, innumerable descendants, blessing, fame, and an everlasting covenant—Abraham’s only role was to believe and receive. God gave to Abraham the blessing; the only thing Abraham gave was the faith to receive. And even in the testing, when God asked Abraham to give up his only son, it was an illustration that God was not finished giving, because He was going to provide and give His only Son for man. Even the test was a point about God giving to man and not man to God. God gave to Abraham an exceedingly great reward and then made a point to say, “I’m not done giving; I will be giving my only Son as well.” The only thing Abraham gave, was agreeing with God that God will be faithful to give all the good things He promised.

On this topic, King David has this question: What should I do to repay God? His response was to renew his vows and to take up the cup of salvation. The cup of salvation is all about God delivering and blessing David. So even on the direct topic about what David can give God, it was mostly about agreeing and praising God that He is the one who gives good things to David, not David giving to God.

Every subsequent covenant, every prophetic promise, every miracle, and finally the finished work of the cross and resurrection maintain the same unbreakable pattern: God is the Giver, man is the receiver. The atonement does not end with Jesus taking our sin; it climaxes with Him imparting His righteousness, His healing, His peace, His Spirit, His authority, and His inheritance to us. This sweeping redemptive history forces a non-negotiable worldview: God is always the fountain, and we are always the open hands.

Jesus, being consistent with this worldview God established, does not ask us what we can offer Him; He asks us what we desire so that He may give it. “What do you want Me to do for you?” is not a polite formality—it is the natural, inevitable question that flows from a finished gospel that gives to us, not us to God. When He says “ask whatever you will,” He is continuing the same unstoppable worldview: God gives, man receives. In this world where God has already given in the gospel, Jesus asks us what we want, what is our will, and He will do it. He invites us to name what we want Him to give next. God isn’t running a cosmic tit-for-tat; He’s handing out inheritance to heirs who believe and ask. When God focuses on your will, He’s being faithful to His worldview that His nature and promise established from Eden to Jesus’ finished atonement.

What is your will? Abide in Him and tell God about it. God wants to bless your will.

Incapable Of Producing Human Works

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! 2 Corinthians 16-17 NLT. There’s a shift here that’s not just cosmetic—it’s ontological, a complete overhaul of how we exist in God’s eyes. And if we’re honest, most of us skim over this like it’s inspirational wallpaper, but Paul is dropping a metaphysical bombshell. The old you? Buried. The new you? Alive in a way that defies human categories.

“If you depend on the righteousness of Christ that has been applied to your account, then when it comes to your standing before God and your boldness before Satan, your own righteousness is irrelevant.” Vincent Cheung, Faith Is good enough.  Irrelevant—now that’s a word that should make the faith-fumblers squirm, because it forces us to reckon with a righteousness that’s not earned by our sweaty efforts but imputed by divine decree.

The point of focus is how God sees us in His own mind and definition. Not how we see ourselves, but How God sees us. It is about us agreeing with God, not sensation. Our standing before Him, as defined by His own thoughts.

Consider how God’s mind is the ultimate arbiter of reality. He doesn’t dabble in opinions or probabilities; His thoughts shape existence itself. When He looks at your sinful past—that laundry list of failures, rebellions, and half-hearted attempts at goodness—He sees it as belonging to a person who’s already dead. Not metaphorically dead, but actually, definitively gone. God transferred that record onto Jesus, who bore it as if it were His own, enduring a punishment so severe it led to the cross and the grave. The intensity of that exchange wasn’t some mild rebuke; it was lethal, a divine judgment that extinguished life. This is the profound symbolism in baptism’s immersion: you went under, into death, sharing in Christ’s burial. We don’t grasp this through feelings or empirical evidence—no lab test or emotional high confirms it. We know it because God has revealed it in His Word, and His revelation trumps every sensation or doubt. In the sovereign mind of God, that old version of you is six feet under, decomposed, irrelevant to the present equation. Meditate on that until it sinks in: the old you isn’t lurking in the shadows, waiting to sabotage; it’s obliterated.

If you claim to see your sins, you cannot do this without claiming to see the east from the west. I would consider such a person as too stupid to waste my time talking.  As far as the east is from the west, that’s how invisible my human sins are to God; and I agree God is correct. Some try to bridge that gap with a telescope of observation, but knowledge comes by God’s word, not observation.

God’s mind defines reality, not ours. He sees a new Oshea, a new creation, with a list of God’s righteousness baked right into my definition.

Now, flip the script to the new creation. God’s mind, being the only one that counts, has redefined you with a record that’s spotless, infused with His own righteousness. This isn’t a patch job or a fresh coat of paint; it’s a total rewrite of your essence. Your righteousness now mirrors Jesus’—not a diluted human version, but the unblemished, divine standard that God Himself upholds.

This means I’ve died to any notion of human righteousness in my standing before God. Since my old man was human, I’ve died to defining myself that way. To think I’ve produced righteousness by my own actions is to cling to that dead human identity—but that Oshea is history. I’m not human anymore in that sense. My existence is defined as part of Jesus, with His righteousness as mine. My righteousness is God’s, not some DIY human version.

This category shift is huge—like upgrading from bicycle to first-class eternity. If you grasp this distinction, neither your conscience nor Satan can lob accusations at you. The only list of wrongs and rights I have is exclusively in the category of God’s works. Human wrongs or rights? They don’t apply to me anymore—it’s like trying to charge a cloud with murder. A cloud is not a man and so God’s laws do not categorical apply to it. God sees my list as pure divine righteousness. When God thinks about me, He doesn’t slot me into a human category, so it’s logically impossible for human mistakes to stick.

By stripping away my human list of wrongs, killing the old man, and exclusively crediting God’s righteousness to me, my very category of existence got a new definition.

The old self operated in the realm of human effort, where righteousness was something you might scrape together through good deeds or moral striving. But that framework died with the old you. To even entertain the idea of producing your own righteousness now is to resurrect a corpse, to pretend you’re still playing by obsolete rules. You’re not human in that sense anymore; your existence is intertwined with Christ’s, defined by a righteousness that’s categorically divine. It’s like trying to apply the laws of gravity to a spirit being—utterly inapplicable. When God contemplates your standing, it’s through the lens of His own perfection, unmarred and glorious.

This redefinition slams the door on accusations, whether from your own nagging conscience or that slimy accuser, Satan. How can human faults stick to someone who’s no longer classified as merely human? The old you could rack up demerits in that category, but the new you exists in a different ontological bracket altogether. Your record is exclusively filled with God’s works—His faithfulness, His holiness, His victories. Attempting to pin a human sin on you now is a logical absurdity, like accusing a cloud of being too heavy. The faithless might try, whispering doubts or dredging up memories, but they’re arguing against God’s own verdict. And let’s not forget the grafting: God hasn’t just slapped a new label on you; He’s woven you into Christ’s body, making you one with Him in spirit and substance.

For my conscience, Satan, or the faithless to accuse me of sin, they’d have to pretend I’m still human, still capable of churning out human righteousness. But I’m not. I don’t have the ability to produce human righteousness anymore—that guy died ages ago. Think about it: I’m as incapable of producing human works as empiricism is justifying the laws of logic. It’s a category that doesn’t fit me. Even if I tried, I couldn’t whip up my own righteousness. Because God has redefined me in a new category, it’s logically impossible for me to produce human works anymore—which means I can’t even produce human sin. All the sins I did commit were already transferred to Jesus, died, and buried with Him. As Hebrews says, Jesus once and for all removed my sins, even future ones and already perfected me.

Some might say, “But yes, you can still produce human works.” Nah—I’m no more able to do that than Jesus can produce human works. The categories just don’t line up. Even if I attempted it through my own effort, it’d only be “human” in the narrow sense of my mind wandering into a delusional fantasy world that doesn’t exist. This delusion in biblical terms is called unbelief. God’s mind is the sole definer of reality. In this reality, I’m not human in that old way, so I’m incapable of producing mere human works.

One reason the works I do, which are not built upon Christ, will be burned up, is because they were done in the delusion of my mind thinking I was still human, a reality that doesn’t exist in God’s Mind. They are burnt up, because they cannot logically be attributed to me, who isn’t human anymore. God is the law of non-contradiction and Identity. He doesn’t say one thing and then the opposite. He has defined me as not human and so He will not attribute any human works to me, whether good or bad.  Can a rock produce human works and earn righteousness? No, because it is not human.

But God didn’t stop at just adding divine righteousness to my record—He grafted me into the body of His beloved Son. That’s another layer of why God doesn’t pin any lawbreaking on me: if He saw a wrong attached to my list, it’d be attached to Jesus too. Since God thinks I’m part of Jesus, He can’t think of me with wrongs without implying Jesus has them—because we’re one body and one Spirit.

Satan can’t accuse me of sin without accusing Jesus of sin, because I’m one body and one Spirit with Him. If I’m, for example the toes of Jesus’ body, and those toes have sin, then Jesus has sin. If Satan tried to accuse me, he’d have to stand before God and point the finger at Jesus.

Satan and the faithless can’t deny that I’m God’s righteousness without denying that Jesus is, because I’m one with Him. Is there any part of Jesus that isn’t perfectly righteous? Any blemishes in Him? Nope—so I’m always the perfect righteousness of Jesus.

When I pray, I can’t approach with human righteousness because that human Oshea is dead. It’s impossible for me to have human merits or faults—that version doesn’t exist. When I pray, I do so as part of Jesus’ body. I pray as His righteousness. God sees Jesus when He looks at me, because He no longer thinks of me as human, but as one with His Son in body and Spirit. Does God think Jesus is righteous? Then He thinks the same of me. This is the Oshea who exists today—the only one that can.

I know when God sees me, He sees His Son, so I can pray as a righteous person. I can pray knowing God views me as Jesus’ righteousness. Thus, I can have effective prayers, because I only exist today as God’s righteousness, and the old human category is dead and buried. I can pray knowing any human notions of wrongs or rights don’t apply to me. Just as “heavy” doesn’t apply to God (who’s pure Spirit), human wrongs or rights don’t stick to me anymore—I’m something new and different. The only righteousness category for me is God’s, as part of Jesus.

Take this doctrine and rock effective prayers, burst with joyful souls, and use it as power to slam Satan’s face in the ground when he tries to accuse you.