Tag Archives: Love

Paul Confronts the Genetic Code: The Preconditions of Intelligibility

I’m drawing these specific presuppositional arguments from Vincent Cheung’s “Presuppositional Confrontations,” “Captive to Reason,” “Ultimate Questions,” and especially “Paul and the Philosophers.” Full credit to him—he’s the one who helped me hone these tools. The opening pages of “Paul and the Philosophers” are gold: a clear, devastating summary of how Paul did apologetics. Go read them

Acts 17 records that while Paul waited in Athens, “his spirit was provoked within him when he saw that the city was given over to idols” (v. 16). The apostle didn’t stroll through the marketplace nodding at the philosophers’ cleverness or hunting for common ground in their latest metaphysical fashion. He confronted them with the revelation of the true God who “made the world and everything in it” and who “gives to all life, breath, and all things” (vv. 24-25). In “Paul and the Philosophers”, Vincent Cheung expounds this encounter as the biblical model for apologetics: “Challenge, Confrontation, and Conquest.”

The philosophers of Athens—Epicureans and Stoics—operated from presuppositions that could not sustain the most basic conditions of thought and experience. The same pattern repeats in every age, including ours. Some things never change—except when materialists try to make them change without a Cause.

Consider the video “Origin of the Genetic Code: What We Do and Do Not Know,” produced by the “Stated Casually” channel with Stephen Woodford. The presenters note that the genetic code functions as a genuine symbolic system (we’ll grant they are codes and a symbolic system for the sake of argument. This means we’re pretending here, because that’s what “for the sake of argument” means). That is, a language with codons as symbols, amino acids as referents, syntax, redundancy, and error-correcting mechanisms. They invoke signaling theory, co-evolution, RNA-world hypotheses, and probabilistic arguments to claim this code arose through mindless natural processes. They admit “vast unknowns” yet insist evolution suffices. But this is skepticism—and skepticism denies the law of contradiction. We’ll move on anyway.

In doing so they stand exactly where the Athenian philosophers stood: using the language of intelligibility while denying the only foundation that makes such language possible. One almost admires the gall—until one realizes they’re trying to get blood from a philosophical stone… or rather, intelligible code from a universe that’s philosophically non-intelligible code.  LOL. Such a position is to be mocked and dismissed.

Non-Christian presuppositions are in rebellion against God and therefore distort and suppress the truth (Romans 1:18-20). The video’s materialist narrative cannot account for the preconditions of intelligibility it constantly employs. Materialism and empiricism are inherently circular: they use every point of intelligibility to construct their arguments, then attempt to “prove” those same points from within a system that cannot justify them. That’s wall-punching hilarious. Their premises always smuggle extra unproven information into the conclusion to make the intelligibility conditions appear to emerge from matter alone. They have no justification for using them. Let us press the matter point by point—because nothing says “I love philosophy” like watching someone saw off the branch they’re sitting on while claiming the branch grew itself.

When intelligibility is defined by materialism, atheism, observation, or empiricism alone, the result is not neutral inquiry but a closed loop that devours its own justification. The secular thinker must presuppose the very rational order, categories, the 3 laws of logic, and knowledge he denies in order to deny it. This is not a minor flaw—it is epistemic suicide. It’s like trying to debug the C++ while denying the laws of C++. Bold move.

Cause. Every effect requires a sufficient cause. If the genetic code is an ordered, functional system of information, then it is an effect. The video traces its “origin” through gene duplication, peptide-RNA interactions, and selection pressures, yet this merely pushes the problem backward. What is the real cause? As Vincent Cheung points out in Paul and the Philosophers, the Epicureans appealed to chance collisions of atoms; the Stoics appealed to an impersonal logos. Neither could explain why causation exists or why causes are orderly rather than chaotic. Only the biblical worldview answers: the self-existent Creator who upholds all things by the word of His power (Hebrews 1:3).

The materialist uses cause at every step of his evolutionary narrative, then tries to prove that cause itself arises from blind matter. This is circular. He must already assume causal regularity (the very thing in question) to interpret his observations, then adds unproven information—that matter alone can produce ordered causation—into his conclusion. He has no justification on materialist premises for doing so. It’s like trying to lift yourself by your own bootstraps, except the bootstraps are made of unproven assumptions, the boots are on fire, and the fire was started by a random chemical reaction that somehow “knew” it needed to be dramatic.

Identity. Since the law of Identity relates to categories, we’re dealing with categories. A thing must be itself and not something else. The genetic code must maintain stable identities: adenine pairs with thymine, specific codons specify specific amino acids, the standard code persists across vast domains of life. The video discusses minor variations yet treats the code as a stable identity that “evolved once.” On materialist premises, why should any pattern remain identical across replications or generations? Without justification for Identity, the materialist cannot intelligently say that identity “x” stayed identity “x” while identity “y” became identity “q.” Why shouldn’t flux and contradiction reign in a world where chaos is the foundation? Only the immutable God—“I am the Lord, I do not change” (Malachi 3:6)—grounds identity. The Bible teaches that grace is grace and works are works, and grace is not works and works is not grace.

The materialist uses identity throughout his account, then attempts to prove that stable identities emerge from matter in motion. This is circular. He presupposes the very stability he claims to explain, smuggling extra information into his conclusion that matter can sustain sameness over time. He has no justification for this move within his own system.

“Some may argue that categories are learned from repetition. They think that a person hears the word ‘cause’ whenever one event follows another, so eventually the mind learns the concept of cause from repeated patterns. This fails. To recognize a pattern already requires categories like identity through time and rules for connecting one case with another. Without those categories, the person would have nothing to tell him that the same kind of event has happened again, rather than just a meaningless string of flashes. Even the claim that a concept is ‘learned’ from many examples uses the very concept during the learning process.

This means that meaning itself requires fixed rational structure that is prior to and independent of any particular observation. Prior does not mean earlier in time… It means logically prior. If reason is to be reason, it must stand on something that does not depend on shifting feelings or human customs. This foundation must be universal… necessary… and rational in itself… If such a foundation exists, then human thought has an anchor… Without it, thought reduces to meaningless sounds with no right to claim belief.” 

 — Vincent Cheung, Paul and the Philosophers, p. 4

Probability and the numerator-denominator problem. The presenters repeatedly appeal to probability: the “likelihood” of functional proteins, the “probability” of certain codon assignments, the unlikelihood of design. Yet as Vincent Cheung reminds us, probability consists of a numerator (specific observations) and a denominator (the complete set of all relevant possibilities—the universal framework). Empiricism and induction can never know the denominator unless they are all-knowing. But if you’re all-knowing, you don’t need science or experiments—you already have knowledge. The act of science or experimentation is an admission you don’t have knowledge. Science is not knowledge. Science, by its own materialist, empiricist, observational method, makes knowledge impossible. It lies beyond any finite set of observations.

To claim the genetic code’s origin is “probable” under naturalism, one must already possess knowledge of the total range of possibilities—an omniscience the materialist does not have. The appeal to probability is therefore circular: the unbeliever uses the numerator while smuggling in an unjustified denominator. He adds extra unproven information into his conclusion—that a stable universal order exists from which probabilities can be calculated—while denying the only source of that order. He has no justification for the denominator on empiricist terms.

“Before you have knowledge, you cannot possibly know the denominator, the complete set of relevant possibilities. But without the denominator, you cannot calculate a probability at all. To establish the denominator, you would need knowledge larger than the present context, in fact, knowledge of the entire range of possible outcomes. At that point you would already have the very knowledge probability is supposed to deliver, and you would have no need for the experiment or the appeal to probability in the first place.

In practice, when people appeal to probability in this way, they are never doing real probability. What they describe is a sense of confidence, an intuition shaped by repetition or prejudice, or a pattern their minds have supposedly recognized. Then they dress this feeling in the language of numbers. But a feeling of confidence is not knowledge, and pattern recognition is not proof, especially when the pattern was derived from a defective framework. Probability without a true denominator is psychology disguised as epistemology.

 Probability cannot serve as a path to truth. If you lack knowledge, you cannot establish the denominator, so probability cannot be applied. If you somehow knew the denominator, you would already possess knowledge far greater than the experiment offers, which makes the experiment irrelevant. In either case, probability does not solve the problem of knowledge. It assumes what it must prove.” 
 — Vincent Cheung, Paul and the Philosophers, p. 6

Difference and distinction. Intelligible thought requires real distinctions. Codons must differ from one another; start codons must differ from stop codons; the genetic code must differ from other biological signaling systems, or there is no intelligibility. Without grounded distinctions, language itself becomes impossible. The Athenian philosophers could not consistently maintain distinctions because their ultimate principles blurred all categories into flux or unity. The biblical doctrine of creation establishes real differences: God made the beasts “according to their kinds” (Genesis 1:25).

The materialist uses distinctions at every turn in his analysis, then tries to prove that real differences arise from undifferentiated matter. And yet again, this is circular. He presupposes the distinctions he claims to explain, adding unproven information into his conclusion that matter can generate and maintain genuine difference. He has no justification within materialism for doing so. Matter apparently has a very strong opinion about what counts as “different”—until it doesn’t. (LOL.)

Time and history. The video narrates a story of the code “emerging” over deep time through gradual processes. But time itself requires grounding. Why does time flow in one direction? Why is there a past, present, and future rather than eternal stasis or chaos? The philosophers of Athens offered cyclical or eternal views of time that could never ground genuine history. Scripture reveals time as the created arena where God consistently makes reality act in regular ways for His purpose.

The materialist uses time and temporal sequence throughout his narrative, then attempts to prove that time and history themselves emerge from matter. This is circular. He presupposes the temporal order he claims to explain, smuggling extra information into his conclusion that matter can produce directed, meaningful history. He has no justification on his own premises.

Motion—the ball in flight. Even the simplest act of perception exposes the problem.

“When the mind looks at a scene, it does more than take a mental picture. It interprets the scene using concepts such as identity, difference, number, relation, time, and cause. These concepts are not pulled from the scene itself. When a child looks at two apples, he uses the concept of number to know that they are two. When he follows a ball flying through the air, he uses time and continuity to track its motion. When he says that the ball broke the window, he uses the concept of cause. If he had to first create number, time, or cause from raw sensory data before using them, he could never begin to use them at all. Any attempt to ‘get’ them from experience would already need them to be in use. Interpretation comes with built-in categories that experience does not provide. This concerns the necessity of innate structure. Certain categories must exist for observation to have any meaning at all.” 

 — Vincent Cheung, *Paul and the Philosophers*

As Cheung shows, this simple act presupposes the intelligibility conditions that empiricism claims to derive from sensation. The materialist uses motion and continuity at every step of his evolutionary story, then tries to prove that ordered motion arises from matter alone. This is circular. He presupposes the very motion and regularity he claims to explain, adding unproven information into his conclusion that blind matter can sustain directed, continuous change. He has no justification within his system for this assumption.

Language and meaning. The video correctly identifies the genetic code as language. But language presupposes a mind—a speaker who intends meaning. Without an intelligent source, symbols collapse into mere physical motion of particles. Non-Christian worldviews cannot account for meaning. The materialist uses meaningful language and symbolic analysis throughout his presentation, then attempts to prove that meaningful language and symbols arise from matter without mind. This is circular. He presupposes the meaning and intentionality he claims to explain, smuggling extra unproven information into his conclusion that chemistry alone can produce genuine communication. He has no justification on materialist terms for treating meaningless matter as meaningful.

Science isn’t knowledge, because it’s anti-logic with a PhD. Science is without logic, and so it is just expensive storytelling in a lab coat.

These are not peripheral issues. They are the fatal flaws that render the entire video incoherent on its own terms. The presenters employ cause, identity, probability, difference, time, motion, language, and meaning at every turn; precisely the preconditions of intelligibility that only Christian revelation can justify. They use these tools to “prove” a naturalistic origin for the genetic code, yet they have no justification for the tools themselves. Their method is circular by necessity, because their first principle—random matter in motion without God—cannot produce or sustain rationality, intelligibility, order, or information. They borrow the Christian doctrines of providence, uniformity, and meaning while denying the Provider, always adding extra unproven information into their conclusions to make the intelligibility conditions appear to emerge from matter alone.

If the genetic code is indeed code, then it testifies against them. The video’s story is a modern retelling of the Athenian idols: sophisticated in appearance, but built on sand. Paul did not flatter the philosophers or accommodate their categories. He declared the Creator, exposed their ignorance of the “unknown god,” and called them to repent because God “has appointed a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness by the Man whom He has ordained” (Acts 17:31).

To the makers of the video and all who share their presuppositions: your system cannot account for the intelligibility you employ in every sentence. You speak of cause, identity, probability, difference, time, motion, language, and meaning while standing on foundations your worldview has sawed off. You use these points to construct your argument, then circularly attempt to prove them from within materialism and empiricism—always smuggling extra unproven information into your conclusions—yet you have no justification for doing so. Repent. The same revelation that explains the intelligibility for all codes explains your need for a Savior.

Chance denies order yet relies on order to articulate the theory. Necessity cancels rational judgment yet uses rational judgment to defend it. Both erase the preconditions of meaningful time, logic, categories, intelligibility, morals, and knowledge.

God is the only response that does justice to the supposed genetic code and all other codes. All other explanations are variations on the idols of Athens—old and new. The truth remains: the God who made the genetic code has spoken, and His Word is the precondition of every word we speak, every code we decode, and every argument we advance. To Him be the glory forever. Amen.

Sad Sob Story VS faith

When that Gentile woman came to Jesus with her demon-possessed daughter, she hit Him with the full sad-sob-story package. Heart-wrenching details. Desperate pleas. “Lord, help me!” She begged like her life depended on it. But it didn’t move Him. Not one inch.

I mean, wasn’t Jesus moved with compassion to heal the crowds and feed the multitudes?

Jesus didn’t heal her because the story was tragic enough. He didn’t heal her because she sounded sincere or because He felt extra compassionate that day. Some might say compassion alone always gets the job done. Not so. Unlike the Arminian fools who deny God’s sovereignty, remember this: God can move independently of us and our faith. The atonement of Jesus is one big story of God sovereignly working to show compassion to people who are unworthy and didn’t even ask for it. God can show compassion without anyone asking in faith—such as when Jesus healed the man at the pool. However, it’s a lottery-type situation. If you’re desperate to be helped or healed, merely waiting on God to sovereignly show compassion is like waiting on the lottery. That’s not the way.

God has always moved independently of us and always will—at the ultimate level. But in the relational context of His promises and commands, we must do what God commanded. He commanded faith.

Think hard about this: Jesus had plenty of compassion back in His hometown, yet unbelief locked the door and left people sick anyway. Despite His compassion, Jesus Christ walked away from His hometown with hurting people moaning in their beds and desperate hearts hoping for help.

Back to our story. What finally moved the King? The rarest thing on planet Earth: faith. Real faith. The kind that grabs God’s promises and refuses to let go. She didn’t whine with a sob story. No—she made an argument from faith, believing He was faithful to His Word. “Woman, great is your faith!” And her daughter was delivered.

Same scene, different woman: the one with the twelve-year issue of blood. The crowd was crushing in, everybody bumping and grabbing at Jesus like it was Black Friday at the miracle store. They were pressed up against Him, but He walked right through them until one touch stopped Him cold.

“Who touched Me?”

Power had gone out from Him. Not from a desperate sob story. It came from faith.

It wasn’t the sad sob story that made power flow out of Jesus. It wasn’t the sad sob story that made Jesus stop and ask who touched Him. It wasn’t the begging. It wasn’t even raw compassion. Faith is what made Jesus zero in with laser focus while millions clamored for attention. Faith is what pulled divine power out of Him like a magnet.

You can feel lost in a sea of a billion faces (and trust me, there are those with far worse sob stories than yours in the crowd). So why would Jesus focus on you? The answer: Faith. If you have faith, God will give you His undivided attention, His undivided help, and His undivided power to save, lift, and bless you. Faith is the answer.

This is the wake-up call we all need: God isn’t merely moved by your tear-jerker reel or how loud you can cry, “Please help!” He is moved by faith that takes Him at His Word. There’s a way to yell “Have mercy on me” that’s trying to make God feel sorry for you—or it can be a cry of faith, knowing God already feels for you, has already provided for you, and will certainly help you. And if you already know this, you’ll find yourself naturally saying, “Sickness, I command you to leave, in Jesus’ name!”

Stop rehearsing the sad story like it’s currency, because the real currency is faith. Believe the promise, speak to the mountain, and watch the King give you His undivided attention and miracle-working power.

You can do the same—right now. Faith is still the rarest, most powerful thing on Earth. Will you be one of the special few who use it? If there was a crowd of so-called Christians, could Jesus single you out, pointing to you and saying, “Now there’s a person with faith—I keep feeling power leave Me and flow into them”? If not, today is the day to correct yourself and finally become that person.

Jesus wondered if He would find faith on Earth when He returned. The context was not about faith for salvation but someone who kept praying in faith until they get what “they want.” Be one of those people Jesus is pleased to find when He comes—because you are a person who has faith. On that last day, look up, meet Jesus’ eyes, and say, “You questioned if You would find faith when You returned? Well, I’m still standing, Jesus! I have faith to move mountains, heal the sick, cast out demons, and faith to know that I am the righteousness of God because of You. At the very least, You found me.” Do you want to see Jesus with a sh@t eating grin of absolute joy, when He finds you? Then have faith.

Pseudo-Neutrality

The Objective Believer said: “Dr. Heiser saying the quiet part out loud: we all ‘cheat.’ We all bring our presuppositions and assumptions to the table. Do we like to admit it and talk about it? Not really. It tends to remove the gravity of whatever claims or accusations we’re making in the moment. We prefer the ‘God Stamp’ so we come across more authoritative. Here at The Objective Believer, however, we encourage people to lower the RPMs, the hysteria, take a deep breath—and let’s chat.”

Oh, how tidy that sounds. Half-right, I’ll grant you; every last human being does operate from first principles, but also that no amount of raw observation can ever bootstrap this into existence. Neutrality is a myth, plain as the nose on your face. No one reasons from a blank slate. But right there, at the very moment the admission is made, the whole thing collapses into the same tired autonomous nonsense that has shipwrecked every non-Christian system since the eggheads in Athens tried to pat Paul on the head in Acts 17. Admitting you have presuppositions does not magically create a polite stalemate or a coffee-shop standoff where we all “lower the RPMs” and chat as equals. It simply drags the battle to the only ground that ever mattered: the presuppositional level itself. The real question has never been whether we have presuppositions. The real question is which presupposition can sustain knowledge, logic, uniformity of nature, or even the bare intelligibility of the sentence “we all cheat.”

Jesus had something sharp to say about eye surgery and hypocrisy. He commands the hypocrite to first remove the plank out of his own eye. Notice the interesting presupposition baked right into the command: you can remove the wrong assumptions from your own eye and then have the ability to help others remove the speck from theirs. Of course Jesus is not saying just anyone can pull this off. He is saying that believers—those born of the Spirit—are able to do it. He does not command the hypocrite to become neutral or presupposition-free. He commands him to remove the plank first so that he “will see clearly” to take the speck out of his brother’s eye (Matthew 7:5). The plank is not “presuppositions” in general; it is hypocrisy, self-deception, and the leftover autonomous rebellion that still refuses to let Scripture be the sole axiom.

Therefore, since some Christians actually have enough respect for Jesus to obey Him, they have removed the wrong assumptions from their own eyes. That means there really are Christians who can read the Bible and read others without cheating by smuggling in alien presuppositions. To slap a blanket “we all cheat” across the board is to call Jesus a liar. The bible does not say we are all cheaters when we read the bible and do philosophy. It lumps the renewed believer in with the unregenerate who still suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Romans 1:18). It denies the power of regeneration. It denies the sufficiency of Scripture. Some Christians have obeyed. They have removed the plank. They do not cheat with wrong presuppositions. They see reality as the Bible shows it because they cannot do otherwise. That is not a flaw; that is victory.

The “we all cheat” slogan is exposed as the self-refuting nonsense it always was. As Vincent Cheung writes in “The Christian’s Self-Definition”:

“You may complain that it is impossible to approach anything, including the Christian faith, without bringing to it our own backgrounds and presuppositions. This is true. But if you are a Christian, then you are a new creation in Christ—you have a new background. And if you are a Christian, then the Bible commands you to renew your mind—get a new set of presuppositions. Reorient your thinking, and enthrone Christ in your mind as the reference point by which you define yourself and everything else. Then, you will find it impossible to approach anything apart from your Christian background and presuppositions. Only then can you be assured that you have a firm grasp on your identity as a Christian.”

Spot on, and it lands like a hammer. The Objective Believer’s own statement trips over its own feet the moment it opens its mouth. It declares that all claims lose their gravity once presuppositions are exposed. That is their hidden axiom of pseudo-neutrality dressed up in humble-brag clothing. And so the claim that “all claims lose their gravity once presuppositions are exposed” loses its own gravity toward all people; it has no logical relevance to anyone. The standard applied to itself means we should treat the O.B.’s statement as without any weight and worthless. And so I encourage to do just that. If it is true, then it is false at the same time. It denies the law of contradiction that Jesus Himself appeals to in Mark 12:35-37. Cute.

Because God puts substantial innate knowledge in all of us (Romans 2:15), and this knowledge only is by God and no one or nowhere else, then by logical necessity, there is no neutral presuppositions. There is only divine revelation.

Lower the RPMs? Take a deep breath and “let’s chat”? That is precisely the fatal maneuver of pseudo-neutrality. Paul did not sit down with the Athenians for a calm exchange of assumptions. He confronted their presuppositions of idolatry, declared their ignorance, and proclaimed the true God who commands all men everywhere to repent (Acts 17:30). No deep breathing exercises. No neutral ground. Just the blazing sword of divine revelation cutting through the fog and commanding men.

The moment you pretend neutrality is even possible, you have already smuggled in the very autonomous starting point you claim to expose. It is like a thief lecturing the bank manager on security while his pockets are still bulging with stolen cash. The Objective Believer wants us all to pretend we are starting from scratch so he can keep his own starting point hidden behind a smile and a latte. But Scripture will not play that game. Regeneration does not leave you with the same old toolkit of fallen assumptions; it gives you an entirely new mind (Romans 12:2). The old man is dead. The new man sees. That is not arrogance—it is obedience. And obedience always looks like cheating to the one still suppressing truth.

So yes—admit your presuppositions. Good start. Now test them against the only foundation that cannot be shaken. Watch how quickly they fold like a cheap lawn chair in a hurricane. The Bible stands because it is divine revelation from the God. Submit to Scripture or remain in absurdity. There is no third option. And if you still want to play the “we all cheat” card after that, at least have the honesty to admit you are calling Jesus a liar while pretending to be the most reasonable guy in the room. The plank is still there, so watch out or it might smack someone in the face. Or better yet, let the Spirit and the Word yank it out.

The Jesus Flex Or The Spirit Flex?

Jesus chose the Spirit’s flex. And so we will do the same.

I saw this not so harmless comment today. We will learn again that you can never attack the Spirit and come out innocent.

“There is an aberrant teaching gaining traction in the Christian world that states that when Jesus lived on the earth two thousand years ago he did not perform miracles by his divine nature but as a mere man through the power of the Holy Spirit. And since he could do this, so can all of His followers. It is stated that we can follow Jesus as our example (true), including we can all raise people from the dead (but this is false, from any view of spiritual gifts – continuationist, restorationist, or cessationist).”

If I choose not to flex my arm, I don’t stop being a human being.

It’s glaringly obvious from the pages themselves that Jesus didn’t flip a switch between “God-mode” and “man-mode” like some cosmic light switch. He was born under the law (Galatians 4:4), lived as the perfect man under it, and powered His whole ministry by the Holy Spirit. Check the deduction right from His own mouth: “If I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (Matthew 12:28). That’s not a one-off; it’s the package deal for His entire gig. Peter spells it out in Acts 10:38: “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and… he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him.” And Jesus Himself ties it back: the Spirit empowers the whole show (Luke 4:14, 18). He did not toggle off the God-mode or human-mode when, He crashed in bed to sleep, or when He cast out demons: no, He stayed consistent as the God-man submitted to the law, not because He lost a drop of deity, but because He chose to model the human life we’re called to copy. Jesus made a choice not to flex His right arm.

Now, the deity part? He never clocked out of being God. Philippians 2:6-7 lays it out deductively: He was “in very nature God” but “did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant.” Me choosing not to flex my right arm doesn’t make me non-human. Jesus not choosing to flex His arm in ministry, but instead allowing the Spirit to flex His arm, doesn’t make Jesus less God. He retained full God-ness (John 1:1,14; Colossians 2:9 says the fullness of deity lives in Him bodily), but operated under the law as our example.

The quote concedes that we “follow Jesus as our example” part. So far, so good; we follow Jesus even being baptised in the same Spirit-filled power. Then they pivot to “but you still can’t raise the dead and have healing on demand” by claiming to have the same Spirit empowered ministry Jesus’ had. Their sneaky move. Jesus was mainly flexing His own biceps in ministry. Thus, “if Jesus was mostly flexing His own divine power the whole time, then even if we’re filled with the Spirit exactly like He was, we still don’t get the same miracle menu, the same certainty for miracles—because His real horsepower was the Jesus-arm curl, not the Spirit’s flex.” Sounds clever on the surface, right? But watch how the Bible’s own logic torches it.

First, even if we grant their “mostly Jesus power” claim for the sake of argument (which the text doesn’t actually say—Matthew 12:28, Acts 10:38, and Luke 4:14,18 all tie His whole ministry package to the Spirit), it still changes nothing about what we can do. Why? Because Jesus’ extreme faith doctrine stands completely independent of that debate. It’s not riding shotgun on the “Spirit empowerment vs. divine flex” argument—it’s a separate, rock-solid command for every believer. He flat-out says:

– “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed… nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20) 

– “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things…” (John 14:12) 

– “If anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt… it will be done for them.” (Mark 11:23)

That’s not “if the Spirit gives you the resurrection gift” or “only when you’re flexing like I sometimes did.” It’s “pray in faith, speak the command, and receive it.” The faith doctrine is always in play, always available, always normal discipleship. So their whole attack on the Spirit’s role? Pointless detour. It doesn’t touch the mountain-moving, dead-raising promise Jesus handed us directly. Even on their own terms, we still get the goods through faith. Game over.

When they downgrade the Spirit’s role in Jesus’ miracles like this, they’re tiptoeing on the line Jesus drew in Mark 3:28-30. He warned that attributing the clear works of the Holy Spirit to something else (or in this case, minimizing them) is the one thing that doesn’t get forgiven—because it insults the very power that proves the kingdom has arrived. The text doesn’t play games here: the Spirit empowered Jesus’ entire show (Peter says so in Acts 10:38, Jesus confirms it in Matthew 12:28). Trying to push the Spirit into the background so Jesus can flex His right arm in His earthly ministry? That Spirit’s blasphemy warning 101.

Their attack is a logical swing-and-miss on two fronts: (1) it ignores the faith doctrine that makes miracles our everyday expectation anyway, and (2) it risks the exact Spirit-dishonoring trap Jesus flagged. The Bible keeps it simple and extreme: Jesus modeled Spirit-fueled, faith-speaking life under the law (without ever clocking out of being God), then said “you do the same—and even bigger.” No fine print, no “mostly divine flex” loophole. That’s the deductive flow straight from the text.

And here’s the final point: the critic always shoots too low. This is the default posture of the faithless. Because they don’t truly believe in God’s promises or the gospel, they limit God—and in doing so, they limit themselves. The gospel says aim for the stars, but they aim for the dirt. They end up hitting the dirt and then high-five each other for their incredible accuracy. Yet they aim too low in every area of life—including when they take shots at their opponents. They fire at the dirt a few feet in front of the target and call it a bullseye.

They imply our goal is to be like Jesus. But our calling is more than Jesus. Jesus Himself said we would do greater works than He did. The doctrine of faith, combined with the baptism of the Holy Spirit that Jesus gave us, means we’re equipped to do greater things than He did while on earth. Jesus promised more miracles—not fewer.

see related:

The Human Ministry of Jesus Empowered by The Spirit

The Prayer Exam: Jesus’ Real Creed of Orthodoxy

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.” (John 15:7-8)

“I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:12)

See also Matthew 17:20, 21:21, Mark 11:23, Luke 17:6, and a whole constellation of others.

There it is—straight from the King’s mouth. Not some footnote in a creed. This is the creed. Jesus didn’t hand us a theology pop quiz as the test of orthodoxy. Nope. He gave us a prayer exam. Answered prayer is the ultimate litmus test. You will do greater miracles than Me. Abide in Me. My words will abide in you. Ask big, get big. Boom—you’re proven Mine.

Jesus created a creedal test that only real believers can actually pass: greater works and answered prayer. The faithless cook up creeds that even their total depravity can still clear like a low limbo bar. But Jesus wrote His creed in the stars so that only the righteousness of God can reach it. Mortals design hurdles the old flesh can still hop over. Jesus built a creedal hurdle that only Spirit-empowered super-humans can clear.

Vincent Cheung nailed it: 

“Most Christians find this basic gospel doctrine very strange. Just weird. In fact, except for those associated with the “faith movement” or “word of faith” theology, it seems almost all Christians would consider this biblical doctrine outright wrong. In other words, it appears almost every person who calls himself a Christian also considers Jesus Christ a false teacher. From the intellectual perspective, and when it comes to concern for orthodoxy, the teaching is highly revealing. The controversy shows that the critics affirm an essentially non-Christian worldview. Any worldview that disagrees with the “faith confession” doctrine is not a Christ-view, and contradicts Christ’s view of reality. Thus it in fact qualifies as one test of orthodoxy.

Jesus did not think it was strange to tell a tree to die, or to rebuke a fever or a storm. This was his view of reality, and it makes perfect sense to me. It is normal for me to tell a sickness to get out or to tell a body part to change a certain way. And if someone is willing to accept it, I can do it for him. It seems rather funny to me, in fact, that a person could call himself a Christian and not live this way. This is an ordinary aspect of the Christian worldview, and anyone who calls himself a Christian should take this for granted,”
(Vincent Cheung. The Extreme Faith Teacher).

Here’s the heart of it: Jesus flat-out declares in John 14:12, “Anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these…” Right before the mountain-moving line in Matthew 21:21, He’s commanding fig trees to wither with a word. That’s not “more sermons” or “bigger crowds.” That’s greater quality and power of miracles—through faith, done by Jesus Himself working in “anyone” who believes. Not just the apostles. Not just the first century. Cheung shows how mainstream orthodoxy (Reformed, Evangelical, the whole crew) twists it smaller to protect the system. Why? Because admitting the plain reading would mean everyday believers wielding that kind of authority in Jesus’ name—and that scares the socks off a man-centered setup that secretly worships the apostles as untouchable mini-gods while keeping the rest of us on a short leash.

Now picture Jesus literally flipping through one of those dusty historical creeds—Apostles’, Nicene, Westminster, whatever you’ve got. He scans the sections on God, salvation, Trinity… and finds *zero* mention of the greater-works and answered-prayer test He just spelled out as the disciple-prover.

How does He respond? 

Same way He always does with false teachers: zero sugar-coating, full harsh-rebuke mode. He’d look up and drop something like, “You are greatly mistaken. You brood of vipers don’t know the Scriptures or the power of God” (echoing His Mark 12 mic-drop on the Sadducees). Why? Because skipping His own litmus test creates a flat-out contradiction in their document. They claim to follow Him but left out the very proof He built in. Omitting it isn’t a harmless oversight—it’s rewriting the Owner’s Manual while pretending it’s still His book.

The faithless hand us a user agreement demanding we confess and  “follow the CEO,” but they quietly deleted the one job requirement Jesus posted in bold letters. Jesus’ extreme faith dogmatic is not only His creed, but the litmus test to determine if a person or a supposed document is orthodox. The creed either lines up or it doesn’t.

Only someone who truly trusts the finished work of the cross passes this test. Jesus became sin so we could become the righteousness of God (2 Cor 5:21). He became curse so we could walk in blessing (Gal 3:13). He became poverty so we could walk in prosperity (2 Cor 8:9). Isaiah 53 spells it out: by His stripes we are healed—present tense, New Contract normal. When you believe that exchange actually happened, self-condemnation shuts up. You stand there like a son, not a beggar, and sickness hears your voice and packs its bags. Rain obeys. Mountains move. That’s not “name it and claim it” hype. That’s New Contract baseline.

The faithless can fake “cross-centered” language all day, abuse us with give self-deprecating sermons with tears, quote creeds and scripture in perfect ESV, and still have zero power. But they can’t fake results. Faithless people fail this test by definition—because it demands faith, not self-deprecating statements. You either abide, ask, and receive… or you don’t. Jesus said the unfruitful branch gets cut off and thrown into the fire (John 15:6). Brutal? Yes. Liberating? Absolutely. Do the  same and cut them out of your life.

And that’s exactly why the creeds, seminaries, and half the pulpits quietly buried Jesus’ test centuries ago. If John 15:7-8 was the standard, the fraud would be visible in 4K. No power? No fruit? No answers to prayer that actually move reality? Not My disciple, says Jesus. The modern church swapped the prayer of the righteous for the prayer of the “humble realist” who hedges every request with “if it be Thy will” like the sovereign God needs an escape clause. They turned petition into polite suggestion and then act shocked when the weather doesn’t listen, the sick stay sick, and the lost stay lost.

The faithless of Jesus’ day had the right paragraphs about the Messiah. They could debate atonement theology until the sun went down. But when the real deal showed up healing the sick and raising the dead, they called it Beelzebul, committing the unforgivable sin.

Any so-called creed that fails to include or bow down to Jesus’ own test of orthodoxy isn’t orthodox, no matter how many fanboys defend it. If any creature in heaven or earth insists that some man-made confession is the standard of sound doctrine while ignoring the King’s litmus test of abiding, asking, and receiving undeniable answers, and doing greater works they’ve just lifted their skirt and exposed their spiritual filth and adultery before your eyes. Cut them out of your life, the way the Father cuts off unfruitful branches.  Excommunicate them. Boycott.

Jesus created a dogmatic test that only believers can do. Greater works and answered prayers. The faithless create creeds that humans in their today depravity can still perform. But Jesus gives a creed that only the righteousness of God can perform. Faith-fumblers pledge allegiance to a creed that the old-flesh can sing to. Jesus gives us a dogmatic that only a saint who is born-from-above can arrange into joyful melodies. Mortals design a creed so that human limitations can still jump over it. But Jesus wrote a creed in the stars that only Spirit-empowered superhumans can aim for.

Your Father isn’t limiting you—He’s waiting for you to stop limiting Him. Faith to move mountains isn’t optional; it’s the proof you’re walking in your new identity. The atonement didn’t just forgive you—it qualified you as a prince of heaven. The cross didn’t just save your soul—it empowered your mouth. The Contract didn’t just cover sin—it clothed you in God’s righteousness that does greater works. This is why the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. Not because you’re sinless in your old-man, but because the old-man is dead and gone. Now you’re a new creation, empowered and righteous in Christ. When you pray, miracles happen.  That is Jesus’ extreme faith dogmatic. And it’s the orthodoxy that glorifies the Father.

Head Held High

Maturity is not the nervous waiter routine some Christians keep pulling at the cosmic buffet—scraping together a few spiritual tips, hoping the Father will notice their effort and toss them a crumb. Nah. Maturity is you, the full-blown son, leaning back in the seat of adoption and letting the endless, jaw-dropping blessings roll in like waves that never quit. The Spirit is no vague vibe floating around; He is the insider, searching the deep things of God and shouting straight into your soul, “Hey kid, this feast is already yours—dig in!” (1 Corinthians 2:6-12). The gospel was predestined for your glory, not your groveling. Paul spells it out: we have received the Spirit who is from God so that we may understand what God has freely given us. Freely. No strings, no performance review, no cosmic rent due. Just pure, ridiculous generosity from the One whose unmerited favor supplies man—man does not supply God.

Picture the prodigal again, but this time do not stop the story where most do. The kid drags himself out of the pig pen, stench still clinging to his rags, ready to beg for servant status. “Father, I have sinned… treat me as one of your hired hands.” That is the low-faith script most believers keep rehearsing. But real maturity? That is when the Father’s Spirit pumps iron in your soul so you do not limp home begging scraps. You stand tall, eyes locked on the One who ran to meet you while you were still a long way off. He slides the signet ring onto your finger—full authority, baby. He drapes the best robe over your shoulders—righteousness that screams, “I belong here, and the blood of the Lamb made sure of it.” He buckles the sandals on your feet so you walk like royalty, not crawl like a hired hand. Then you march straight into the house, head high, grin wider than the banquet table, because you are not a guest. You are the son. You are the prince. The party is for you.

This is the heartbeat of the gospel. The Father does not negotiate a probation period. He does not say, “Earn the robe first.” He restores identity on the spot because that is what the contract always promised: I am your exceedingly great reward. You are the promises of God. The same love the Father has for Jesus, He pours out on His elect without measure. We are co-heirs with Christ, clean, righteous, empowered with the same Spirit of power and ministry that Jesus had through the baptism of the Spirit. All things are ours. The past and the future are ours. We judge the world and angels. We inherit the world. We boldly approach the throne of Almighty God as sons, princes of heaven, to ask and receive. Financial prosperity and healing belong to the same faith that receives forgiveness—because the gospel is total salvation or it is no gospel at all.

Some still tiptoe around like they owe the King rent. They treat maturity as a spiritual gym membership where they sweat out enough good works to qualify for blessings. It denies the unmerited favor of the gospel that supplies everything. It treats the cross like a down payment and your effort like the rest of the mortgage. Stop it. The Spirit who searches the deep things of God does not hand you a to-do list; He hands you the finished work and says, “Understand what has been freely given.” Faith is mental assent to God’s word, full stop. Emotions are not epistemology. Works are not grace. When you live by feelings or performance, you are being disobedient and irrational at the same time.

Look at the ring again. That signet is authority. The robe is righteousness. The sandals are the walk of a son who knows his Father is not keeping score. The fatted calf is already on the spit, and the Father is not waiting for you to earn the barbecue sauce. He is running toward you with arms wide, robe flapping, ring ready, because the gospel was predestined for your glory. Paul says the wisdom of God is hidden in a mystery, but God revealed it to us by His Spirit. The world’s wisest philosophers could not dream this up. Human wisdom never gets you there because its limits are bound by observation. Our measure are the promises of God, not empiricism. Only the Spirit who knows the mind of God can shout the good news into your heart: you are not a servant eating pig slop. You are the son.

This is where faith to move mountains becomes everyday reality, not a special-occasion trick. The same faith that receives healing receives prosperity, receives authority, receives joy that the world cannot manufacture. By faith you save yourself from double mindedness. By faith reality obeys you because the Sovereign God who upholds all things has placed His word in your mouth. You do not scrape together faith by human effort; you assent to what is already true. The promises are not waiting for your perfection—they are waiting for your confession. You are the promises of God. Test yourself: are you walking in your new identity? Do you approach the throne like a nervous waiter or like a prince who knows the King delights to give the kingdom? The answer is not in your feelings; it is faith in your confession.

Heaven throws better parties than any pig-pen after-party ever could: the Father is not keeping score. And if He is keeping score it is keeping score on the righteous score sheet given to you through Jesus.  He is popping the champagne while you are still rehearsing your apology speech. Maturity looks like you receiving the ring, the robe, the sandals, and then throwing your head back and laughing with the joy that only sons know. You belong at this table.

Some will read this and feel a twitch of resistance—old religious programming whispering that you must earn the seat. That is the servant mentality trying to sneak back in through the side door. Kick it out. God’s Word is our theology, our doxology, and our apologetic. It attacks the central weakness of every defective view: the lie that man supplies God. We do not. He supplies us. The same unstoppable power that created the world out of nothing now creates fresh confidence in your heart on the occasion of His word, separate from anything you feel, observe or achieve. That is occasionalism at work in the life of faith—God directly causing the knowledge and the assent, every time.

So head held high, son. The Father is already running. The robe is draped. The ring is on. The banquet is served. Stop acting like you are still mucking out the pig pen when the banquet hall is calling your name. The Spirit has searched the deep things and handed you the menu: everything is yours in Christ. Understand what God has freely given you. Receive it. Confess it. Live it. The party is for you, and the Father is grinning wider than the table because His son is finally home—head held high, heart full, future exploding with glory.

This is maturity. This is the gospel. This is you.

Stay At the Foot Of The Cross

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The First Importance Of The Gospel

Some folks out there still treat 1 Corinthians 1:18 and 2:2 like a pair of spiritual brass knuckles, swinging them at anyone who dares point out that a lopsided “cross-centered” slogan has been twisted into an excuse for unbelief and disobedience. They read Paul’s words about the message of the cross being foolishness to the perishing and decide that any critique of a so-called cross-centered gospel must mean the critic is perishing too. They quote Paul’s resolve to know nothing among the Corinthians except Jesus Christ and him crucified, then act as if that single phrase cancels out the rest of the apostolic deposit. It doesn’t. It never did. The cross is glorious, but when the faithless use the doorway of the gospel to bludgeon gospel into a blood heap, they have become Satan’s little helpers.

Scripture never hands us a minimalist gospel; that’s the devil’s job. God’s revelation is the sole starting point for knowledge, and that revelation is a seamless, non-contradictory system. Paul did not preach a bare fact of crucifixion and then stop. The faithless love a bisected gospel because it reduces the one thing they can’t do, faith. They can’t believe Jesus and they will do all they can to make sure you follow them in their perversions. Paul preached the whole counsel that centers on Christ crucified precisely because that message, understood in its full biblical context, is “the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24). To rip the phrase out of that context and wave it like a stop sign against systematic theology, apologetics, sovereign election, miraculous gifts, or the present authority of the risen Christ is not faithfulness; it is the very anti-intellectual distortion the apostle confronted. The same Paul who said he knew nothing but Christ and him crucified went on to write thirteen chapters of dense doctrine, ethics, and correction to those same Corinthians. He reasoned, disputed, and taught the entire worldview that flows from the cross and resurrection. Anything less is not the gospel Paul preached; it is a counterfeit that leaves people sick, defeated, and emotionally broken while boasting that “this is the power of the cross.” That is not power. That is unbelief dressed up in Calvary language.

Vincent Cheung nailed this exact abuse years ago, and his words still cut through the fog better than most modern pulpits ever will. In “The Proof of the Spirit” (December 26, 2008) he wrote:

“The entire chapter of 1 Corinthians 2 has been distorted by many anti-intellectual commentators. For example, Paul says in verse 2, ‘For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.’ … The statement … refers to the gospel’s contrast against non-Christian thinking, and not an anti-intellectual strategy of evangelism.”

He said it again in “Remember Jesus Christ” (November 16, 2009):

 “Many people, especially those with an anti-intellectual bias, interpret this to mean that Paul did not preach an entire body of biblical doctrines, and that he was not interested in theology or in intellectual arguments, but that he only preached the ‘gospel.’ … such usage misrepresents what the New Testament means by ‘gospel.’ … although he uses ‘Jesus Christ and him crucified’ as an expression that embraced all that he preached to the Corinthians … this is only a representation (not even a summary) of what he preached, when what he preached was doctrinally much more extensive than the bare expression can convey in itself.”

And in “Theology of the Throne” (November 23, 2025) he drove the point home with surgical precision:

“If the cross becomes the sole reference point, Christianity risks degenerating into perpetual guilt and weakness, as if believers must linger forever at the site of sacrifice without grasping the triumph that followed. … We are not standing at the foot of the cross as if history had stopped there, nor are we waiting outside the empty tomb as if resurrection were the end. … A theology of the throne guards against distortions that arise from an incomplete focus.”

The same abuse shows up when people grab 1 Corinthians 15 and twist Paul’s phrase “of first importance” into another excuse to camp out at the doorway instead of walking through it. Paul opens that chapter by saying, “Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you… For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor 15:1, 3-4). The atonement and the resurrection are indeed first in importance—the doorway, the entrance, the non-negotiable foundation that gets you inside the house of God’s. But the doorway is not the dining room. The doorway is not where you sit down at the table and feast with the King. You do not build your whole life in the foyer, staring at the hinges while the banquet hall echoes with joy and power and promises kept. Paul goes on in that same chapter to thunder about the bodily resurrection, the defeat of death, the sovereignty of Christ, and the certainty that “God may be all in all” (15:28). He is not handing us a slogan to linger at Calvary or the empty tomb forever; he is flinging wide the door so we can enter the gospel, which includes the present throne life, Spirit baptism, healing by faith, mountains moved, and every promise made good in Christ.

The Lord’s Supper itself proves the point with blunt apostolic logic. Jesus commanded, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19; 1 Cor 11:24-25). If we were meant to stay perpetually cross-centered, locked in endless sin consciousness and weakness at the foot of the cross, then commanding a repeated supper that looks back while we press forward would make zero sense. The table presupposes we have already walked through the doorway. It calls us to remember the price paid so we can enjoy the victory won. It is a feast of triumph, not a funeral dirge. To treat the cross or the resurrection as the entire meal is to turn the Lord’s Supper into a self-flogging session that the apostle never authorized. That is not biblical piety; that is a unbelief that robs the gospel of its forward momentum and leaves believers spiritually malnourished in the foyer while the King waits at the head of the table.

Vincent Cheung saw this coming and warned against it with the same clarity he brought to the cross-centered slogan. The full gospel is never a truncated one; it is the doorway that opens onto the throne room. Anything that stops short of that full-orbed revelation—election, resurrection power today, miracle gifts, sovereign lordship over every thought and every sickness—is not protecting the gospel; it is shrinking it into something the faithless can do by human effort.

If you find yourself reaching for 1 Corinthians 2:2 or 15:3-4 every time someone says the atonement and resurrection are the entrance, not the whole house, stop. You are not defending the gospel; you are defending a half-gospel that leaves people sick, broke, and powerless while boasting that “this is the power of the cross and empty tomb.” And when they die before their time, their blood is stained on your hands. The real cross and resurrection say, “By His stripes you were healed” (1 Pet 2:24) and “All things are possible for the one who believes” (Mark 9:23). They fling open the door to the throne where we boldly approach and ask and receive. Anything that stops short of that is not the power of God; it is the power of unbelief sugar-coated with spiritual-sounding phrases.

The throne is where the story ends, not the cross or the tomb. Stop lingering at the doorway like it is the finish line. Get up, believe the full revelation, walk through, and sit down at the table with the King. That is where Jesus is. And that is the only way the cross and resurrection stay anything but empty in your life.

Your Fame is the Gospel’s Priority 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fully Faithless

Mike Winger posted on Facebook, March 27, 2026: 

“Jesus never promised us prosperity in this world.

He promised tribulation and His peace through it.”

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

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

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

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

And here’s the fun part (because faith should feel victorious, not like a never-ending rain check): Jesus did promise prosperity — real, tangible, this-life prosperity — through His substitutionary atonement. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). That’s not spiritual poetry. That’s cold, hard cash, health, victory, and abundance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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