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.
“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.
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.
You know, I’ve spent years digging into the Scriptures, wrestling with the logic of God’s sovereignty and the raw power of faith, and one thing keeps slapping me in the face like a wet fish from Peter’s haul: Jesus wasn’t stingy. Far from it. He threw around material provision like a king tossing gold coins to the crowds, and He did it through miracles that would make today’s economists weep. We’re talking wine at Cana worth a cool hundred grand in today’s dollars, fish catches that could retire a family for life, and bread multiplications feeding thousands with leftovers to spare. And that’s just the recorded stuff—John says if we wrote down all His miracles, the world couldn’t hold the books (John 21:25). If you’ve seen Jesus, you’ve seen the Father (John 14:9), and this Father isn’t doling out crumbs; He’s serving up feasts of abundance. But here’s the kicker: Jesus didn’t just do it—He commanded His disciples to feed the crowds themselves, expecting them to multiply substance by faith. That puts the ball in our court, folks. If mountains of provision aren’t piling up in your life, don’t blame God; look in the mirror.
[A quick side note, the value amounts are not a direct deduction, but an educated guess; they are a “rough modern parallel” and not a “thus saith the Lord on the exact price.” The point for a rough modern parallel is to help you see a modern picture of the value of the enriching miracles of Jesus’ ministry.]
Let’s start where any solid theology should—with the Word. Take the wedding at Cana in John 2:1-11. Jesus turns water into wine, not just any swill, but the best stuff, enough to fill six stone jars holding twenty to thirty gallons each. That’s 120 to 180 gallons of top-shelf vintage. Since the scripture cannot lie, and it was said to be the best type of wine, it was the expensive stuff. Think somewhere between 300-900 dollars per gallon. In modern terms, we’re looking at around $50,000 to $150,000 worth of wine, give or take on how vintage the taste was. Jesus didn’t skimp; He overdelivered, turning a potential party flop into a king’s banquet. Why? Because that’s how the Father rolls—abundant generosity reflecting His nature. As Vincent Cheung notes in his essay “The Light of Our Minds,” God’s revelation isn’t about bare minimums; it’s about overwhelming favor that points to His unstoppable power. “God’s revelation is the ultimate starting point for knowledge, and it includes His promises of blessing and provision.” Jesus is not prosperity gospel-lite but prosperity gospel extreme. Jesus provided lavishly, and if we claim to follow Him, we ought to expect the same flow.
They likely didn’t guzzle it all—sell the surplus, and that family just hit the jackpot. The hosts could’ve sold the surplus and lived like royalty. Jesus slung money like confetti, turning a potential flop into a fortune. And why? Because the Father is generous, and Jesus mirrors Him perfectly: “If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9).
Fast-forward to Peter’s big catch in Luke 5:1-11. Jesus borrows Peter’s boat for preaching, then tells him to drop the nets one more time after a fruitless night. Peter obeys, half-grumbling, and hauls in so many fish the nets tear and boats nearly sink. Scholars estimate 153 large fish (John 21:11, a similar miracle), but Luke’s account implies even more. In first-century Galilee, fish were currency—dried, salted, traded. Today’s equivalent? A commercial haul like that could fetch $100,000 to $300,000, enough for Peter to retire comfortably, support his family, and bless his partners. Peter drops everything to follow Jesus, but the Lord ensures he’s provided for richly. This wasn’t pocket change; it was a windfall screaming, “Trust Me—I’ve got your back.” God slung provision through Jesus, and He’s not stingy today.
One additional note about this miracle of money. This became the point that Peter decided to follow Jesus. Miracle money will do that for many people, we know this true because scripture says so, as it shows with Peter. You want better evangelism, then have more faith for miracle money to bless others. You don’t need to beg Jesus for this because His finished atonement already provided this for us. We already have it.
Then there’s the feeding miracles—twice, no less. First, 5,000 men (plus women and kids, so maybe 15,000 total) get fed from five loaves and two fish (Matthew 14:13-21). Leftovers: 12 baskets. The second time, 4,000 men (likely 12,000 total) from seven loaves and a few fish, with seven baskets left (Matthew 15:32-39). In ancient terms, a loaf fed a family for a day; fish added protein. Valuing basic meals at $12 each today, that’s $180,000 for the first crowd, about $150,000 for the second. But factor in the miracle’s scale—desert catering for thousands, which would cost an addition thousands of dollars. Jesus didn’t ration; He overflowed. These weren’t survival scraps but abundant feasts, foreshadowing the gospel’s promise: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). If you’re scraping by, questioning prosperity, you’re echoing the Pharisees’ unbelief, not Jesus’ faith doctrine.
Jesus didn’t just meet needs; He exceeded them, showing the Father’s heart for overflow. As in Deuteronomy 28:1-14 (various translations emphasize this), obedience to faith brings blessings that chase you down—abundant crops, livestock, and storehouses. Jesus embodied this, commanding His disciples, “You give them something to eat” (Matthew 14:16 NIV). He expected them to multiply by faith, just as we’re responsible today to wield that same power for material substance.
Don’t forget the temple tax coin in the fish’s mouth (Matthew 17:24-27). Peter needs cash for the tax—about four drachmas, a few days’ wages. Jesus says, “Go fish—the first one you catch will have a four-drachma coin in its mouth.” Boom: exact amount. In modern bucks, that’s $100-200. You can pay your taxes the same way. Jesus, as a man born under the law, using faith in God’s word, paid for taxes by miracle money. We can do the same.
God provides precisely, supernaturally. Add it all up so far and a low estimate across these miracles is $300,000; high end, $1,500,000. And these are just the recorded ones. Jesus slung money like it grew on trees—because in His hands, it did. He commands us to do the same.
Now, here’s where faith-fumblers trip up: they peddle unbelief, saying, “That was then; now we ask for bare necessities.” Rubbish. Jesus commanded, “You feed them” (Mark 6:37), expecting disciples to multiply material substance by faith. We’re not sidelined spectators; we’re empowered partners. Mark 11:22-24: “Have faith in God… Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them.” Mountains of lack? Command them gone. Multiply material substances like the bread, or transmute material substances like water into wine. God is not holding your wealth back; your lack of faith and obedience is. The resurrected Christ empowers us for “greater works” (John 14:12)—not lesser. If you’re not seeing provision multiply, check your faith, not God’s generous wallet, a wallet he has given you access to by faith in Jesus Christ. When He sees you, He sees His Son, and this is why His wallet is opened to you.
But here’s the kicker: Jesus expects us to do the same. “You feed them,” wasn’t a one-off. In Mark 11:22-24, He says, “Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours” (NIV). Mountains? That’s code for obstacles—sickness, lack, impossibilities. Faith moves them. Matthew 17:20 doubles down: even mustard-seed faith commands mountains to relocate. Nothing impossible. Luke 17:6 adds trees obeying your word, uprooting and planting in the sea.
This isn’t pie-in-the-sky. It’s grounded in Abraham’s covenant, where God promises to be our shield and exceedingly great reward (Genesis 15:1). Paul ties it to the gospel: “Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: ‘All nations will be blessed through you'” (Galatians 3:8 NIV). That blessing? Superabundant descendants, land (the world, per Romans 4:13), wealth, health, favor. No mention of scraping by—it’s excessive. God declares Abraham righteous for believing He’d deliver the goods (Genesis 15:6). Same faith receives healing, provision, miracles today. As Deuteronomy 28:1-14 spells out under the law (fulfilled in Christ): obedience brings overflowing barns, fruitful wombs, victory over enemies. Prosperity? God’s idea—health, wealth, success (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:3).
Vincent Cheung echoes this in “Predestination and Miracles”: “God predestined us to bear fruit… Gospel life and ministry is characterized by answers to prayers. What kinds of prayers? … ‘God will give you whatever you ask.’ We’re predestined for this—abundance through faith. Jesus slung money via miracles to show the Father’s love; now it’s our turn. Speak to that mountain of lack: “Be removed and cast into the sea” (Mark 11:23). It will obey you—not because you’re bossing God, but because He’s unleashed His power through your faith confession.
Jesus slung money via miracles to showcase the Father’s generosity. Expect it, command it, receive it—today. Don’t settle for scraps when the table’s set for a feast. Faith moves mountains; unbelief moves excuses.
If you’re one of those folks who thinks Jesus was all about scraping by with the bare minimum—barefoot, begging for scraps, preaching poverty as piety—then you’ve got the wrong Messiah. The real Jesus, the one Scripture paints without apology, wasn’t stingy with His power. He multiplied resources like it was nothing, handing out miracles that, in today’s dollars, equate to hundreds of thousands, even millions. And He didn’t do it quietly. No, He slung that abundance around, benefiting wedding hosts, disciples, crowds, even Peter and Himself for taxes. These aren’t footnotes in the Gospels; they’re front and center, showing the Father’s heart. As John reminds us, there were so many miracles that a library couldn’t hold them all (John 21:25). We’re talking recorded ones alone tallying up to a low estimate of $300,000, spiking to $1,500,000 on the high end. That’s not pocket change—that’s a king’s ransom, dished out freely.
Imagine being so dense that when you read 2 Corinthians 8:9, you think it’s about “spiritual” wealth instead of cold, hard cash. The words say “wealth” and “poverty.” Reading comprehension much? Step one: read the words. Paul’s out there collecting money, so yeah, it’s about finances—not some floaty, ethereal jargon. Only a pastor or theologian could twist it that bad and still sleep at night.
Sure, you might squeeze some extra insight from a redemptive-historical angle, but that’s indirect, secondary, and does zilch to cancel the passage’s straight-up teaching. This money swap was baked into Jesus’ atonement. He took our poverty and handed us His wealth—part of the substitution deal. Curses included poverty, and Jesus snagged those curses, nailed them to the cross, and swapped them for Abraham’s gospel, which comes with miracle cash. He took our broke-ass state and gave us His bling. It’s the full Jesus package. Mock the money part, and you’re mocking Jesus, stomping on His atonement. You’re not just wrong—you’re God’s enemy, an anti-Christian trash heap with a worldview to match.
When they say, “I don’t see all prospering or healed,” it’s not theology anymore—it’s a worldview clash. An ultimate authority clash. We’re not just reading text differently; we’re understanding existence differently. Scripture forbids me from using “Do I see people healed or not?” as a way of knowing or an authority. So if a so-called Christian grabs knowledge or authority from observations, we’re as far apart as atheism is from Christianity. Different authorities, different worldviews. Different foundations, different realities. It’s not about text context—it’s about ultimate authority. My worldview bans appealing to observations; theirs welcomes it. They have sided Satan, and will partake of his destruction.
In the end, if your life’s not overflowing with provision like those crowds’ baskets, don’t lecture God on sovereignty—check your faith. Jesus didn’t hold back; neither should we. He’s the man who slung money around via miracles, and if we’re His, we’ll do the same. Time to believe big, confess bold, and watch reality bow. After all, the Father’s cheering us on—more than we know, because he already provided us wealth in His precious Son’s atonement. Jesus became our poverty so that He makes us rich with this wealth. To think little of wealth is to slap Jesus across the face in blatant disgrace and mock His poverty suffering for us, as a little thing. Or you can just receive His wealth and praise Him for his generosity and use that to be blessed and bless gospel ministries. God’s way is always the better way.
Until we are all slinging wealth around via miracles, we are not living up to Jesus’ extreme faith and wealth doctrine. Our faith needs to catch up Jesus.
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.
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.
Jesus had this against the church in Ephesus: they had walked away from God as their first love. He approved their hatred for the evil deeds and false doctrines committed by others, but in their testing, exposing, and hatred( all things Jesus himself endorsed) they had stopped doing the most important positive action, which is loving God. It’s a sobering reminder, isn’t it? You can be doctrinally sharp, spotting false teachers like a hawk spots a mouse, yet if your heart grows cold toward the One who first loved you, you’re making a fatal error. Revelation 2:4 puts it bluntly: “Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken the love you had at first.” Jesus doesn’t mince words here. He calls them to repent and return to the works they did at the beginning, or risk having their lampstand removed. That’s church-speak for “lights out,” and I will move on to those who will love Me.
The question revolves around how Jesus wanted them to correct their behavior to receive and give God’s love. It does involve some speculation, but not much, to extrapolate from the book of Ephesians and the book of Acts the specific things God told the Ephesian church. Ephesus was an important hub for the early church because Paul stayed and taught in a public school for two years. This would make it a hub of educated Christians. Thus, it makes sense for Jesus in Revelation to say they were good at doctrine and good at exposing false teachers. But Paul did more than just educate them. He had his usual miracle ministry of healing, casting out demons, and leading people to be baptized in the Spirit. In addition to all that, Acts 19:11-12 says that God performed “special” or “extraordinary” miracles through the Apostle Paul in Ephesus. These miracles were so unusual that handkerchiefs or aprons that had touched Paul’s skin were carried to the sick, resulting in healings and the departure of evil spirits. Think about it—miracles so potent they worked via second-hand contact. That’s not your average Sunday service; that’s Jesus blasting his followers in the power of the Spirit to tear down the gates of hell and expand His Father’s kingdom
Even before I start to conclude, some readers should already pick up where this is going. In the book to Ephesus, Paul quickly flies by doctrines of the atonement, resurrection, predestination, and election, likely because they were already well educated in these things. But there are two important highlights in this letter. One is in chapter 3 where Paul focuses on how, through the Spirit and knowing God’s love, the inner man is strengthened. Paul did not say it was hours of education that did this, but the Spirit and receiving how much God loves you that makes your inner man strong. Obviously, you need right teaching to know about God’s love, but the focus is not broadly about Christian teaching, but the power of the Spirit to help you believe how much God loves you. This is interesting because Jesus’ accusation against them is about them not loving God as they ought, when Paul is making a special plea to them to strengthen their inner man by receiving God’s love for them. Ephesians 3:16-19 spells it out: “I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 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.”
This is the first part of what it means for the Ephesians to love God. They will love God when they are properly receiving how much God loves them, in the power of the Holy Spirit. The focus is not how much they love God, but how much God loves them. The conclusion Paul gives for a person strengthened by the Spirit with God’s love is that they ask God to give them things, and God gives them exceedingly, abundantly, beyond all they think or ask. Thus, Paul’s test of orthodoxy for a person who is properly receiving God’s love is someone who is praying for God to give them stuff, and God is going overboard in supplying their request. Think of all the baskets left over from the feeding of the 5,000 and 4,000. If you want to know that you haven’t stopped loving God, then the proof is that you ask and receive big from God because the Spirit has made your inner man strong by knowing how much God loves you. It’s almost comical how straightforward this is—God loves you so much He wants to spoil you rotten with answers to prayer. Not because you’re earning it, but because His love is that extravagant. If your prayer life is drier than a desert, it might be time to check if you’re really soaking in His love or if you have it backwards and are focused on giving to God. The point is about His love to you, not your love to Him. The way you love God more, is receiving how much He loves you.
The second interesting focus in Paul’s letter was about putting on God’s armor and weapons and being strengthened in God’s power. Paul ends the letter by saying, “Finally my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.” To say “finally” indicates something Paul felt was important or even the number one reason why he might have written the letter to them. It was not about more studying or education but about raw, explosive “power.” Remember, Paul’s time with the Ephesians was a time with great miracle power and the baptism of the Spirit. In fact, in Acts 19, the whole section starts off with Paul walking into Ephesus, finding believers, and the very first thing he says is, “Have you received the Spirit?” The first thing he asks is not about Jesus Christ, but about the baptism of the Spirit for power. Think about that carefully. I dare say even most Pentecostals do not show this level of importance on the Baptism of the Spirit as Paul was showing here. Acts 19:5-6 records: “On hearing this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. When Paul placed his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came on them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied.”
Paul helps them receive the Spirit for power, and they pray in tongues and prophesy. Thus, the Ephesians, with their personal experience with Paul, understand when he says “the Spirit” or “pray in the Spirit,” it is referring to spiritual power, miracles, and praying in tongues. I do not have time to go over all the aspects of Ephesians 6, but I will draw your attention to two things. One is the command to put on God’s power and walk in His might. Paul uses three different words about power and strength regarding God. The command is to put on God’s power and strength and wield it as your own. You do not have the option to walk around like a hot-mess weakling, because it is a command to walk in God’s almighty power. Paul did extraordinary miracles when he was with the Ephesians, and so when he talks about walking in God’s power, it means to have so much power that a handkerchief you had in your pocket gets passed around and heals people. Ephesians 6:10-11 urges: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.”
And lastly, the sword of the Spirit is directly connected to “always praying and praying in the Spirit.” Again, the Ephesians in their personal experience with Paul knew of praying in the Spirit as praying in tongues. Thus, to properly take up the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit cannot be done correctly without praying in tongues. By praying in tongues, you are better at taking up the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit to attack the devil and the kingdom of darkness, which Paul says is our real battle, not the things of the flesh. Ephesians 6:18 adds: “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.” It’s like spiritual cardio—keeps your heart pumping with divine energy. Without it, you’re swinging a dull blade in a fight that demands sharpness.
It is also noteworthy, since our topic is about loving God and not forsaking our love for Him, that Jude says in verses 20-21: “But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” Praying in the Holy Spirit—aka praying in tongues—keeps yourselves in the love of God. You keep yourself in God’s love by praying in tongues. This is why reprobates cannot overcome Jesus’ rebuke to return to loving Him first, because they cannot pray in tongues. Because they cannot believe Jesus to be filled in the Spirit, they cannot pray in tongues. Because they do not pray in tongues, they do not keep themselves in God’s love. It’s a vicious cycle of unbelief, and frankly, it’s tragic. But for those who embrace it, it’s like stoking a fire that never goes out—white hot, passionate, and powerful. How important is it to you to keep yourself in God’s love. If it is then love yourself and pray in tongues. If you do not pray in tongues it is a sign that God does not like you, or a sign you do not like God, because staying in His love is unimportant to you.
Do not stop loving Jesus. You do this by being filled with the Spirit, who will help you know and believe how much God loves you. You improve loving Jesus more, not by focusing on loving Jesus, but by focusing on how much He loves you. The proof you are doing this correctly is by asking for stuff and God giving you more wealth and health than you asked for. You love Jesus not by walking in lowly human weakness, but by obeying His command to walk in His power and strength, to walk in healing the sick, casting out demons and to walk with your head held high. Lastly, you protect your love for God from growing cold by praying in tongues. It’s not rocket science, but it is supernatural; and because the supernatural can only be done by faith, it excludes most people. And let’s be honest, in a world full of faithless perverts, keeping that love white hot, will keep you in God’s love and it will be the spark that sets the world on fire for Him. So, dive in—receive His love, wield His power, and watch as your heart stays ablaze.
I heard an interesting one from a Christian gathering the other day: someone says, “I don’t want to pray out loud—might tip off the devil.” That’s like hiding your flashlight because you’re scared the dark might figure out you’re dispelling it. Well, that’s the whole point, right? As John 1 tells us, the light shines and the darkness does not understand it and cannot overcome it; rather, the light overcomes and pushes away the darkness. This is applicable to both the intellectual aspect as God’s revealed truth and logic is not understood by dark stupidity and blindness. And it refers to power. The light overpowers the darkness. Jesus is the endless power of life. Demons should be the ones quaking when you open your mouth.
That is how Jesus and the Father see reality. This is a worldview issue. To see reality as the righteousness of God, sitting with Jesus in the heavenly places as a prince of heaven, or through the lens of a lowly mere human.
First off, rewind to Jairus. Jesus drops that bomb: “Do not fear, only believe” (Mark 5:36). Fear’s the devil’s fake ID; he makes it feel and look so real, but it’s bogus. Satan and his crew are already crushed under Jesus’ boot. Colossians 2:15 spells it out: Christ “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.” That’s the cross talking—Jesus stripped them naked, paraded them like losers. This is why demons shrieked at His approach; they knew the gig was up.
But here’s the kicker: that victory’s ours too. Luke 10:19? Jesus hands us the keys: “Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.” Tread on them—like stomping grapes at a vineyard party. We’re not cowering; we’re marching forward and commanding. Mark 16:17-18 seals it: “These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons… they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Know your identity in Christ and stand in His righteousness and authority He has already given you. When you do, then devils will bow out when you say, “boo.”
If God’s sovereign—and He is, dictating every atom—then sickness, demons, all that junk’s under His thumb. But He didn’t leave us dangling. Ephesians 6:12 reminds us the fight’s “against the spiritual forces of evil,” but verse 10 arms us: “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.” This is like Zeus giving someone his personal armor and lightning bolt. And this is exactly what God has given us. But notice Paul says to put it on and pick up the sword of the Spirit. It does you no good to leave it hanging on the wall. But the main point is that you are empowered with God’s power. Not your power, but God’s power. And it is a command to put it on. You don’t have the luxury to not put it on and walk in mere human weakness. You are commanded to be God’s power on earth. Put on that armor, stand firm. James 4:7? “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” Flee—like a roach when the light flips on. The verse doesn’t say Satan, the god of this world will flee from God. No. It says he will flee from you, but you must do the resisting in faith. 1 John 4:4 crushes it: “He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” Greater? Try infinitely. No contest.
Years back, God correct me when I was full of fear: “Oshea, those things you’re afraid of? They are to be afraid of you.” Gideon was strong, not because of his own power, but because God made Him strong. In Christ every Christian has been given His authority, His name and His divine weapons. In Christ every Christian is a man of great valor. Cancer howls when faith walks in. Demons scatter when you pray bold. Sickness? Jesus bore it on the cross, and by His stripes we are and were healed (Isaiah 53:4-5). We’re seated with Him in heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6); thus, even if you are the little toe in Jesus’ body, all things under our feet, including every demon and sickness. We have already been given every spiritual blessing. There is no spiritual blessing, (which controls natural blessings), that you will have heaven, that you do not already have now. The same Spirit that empowered Jesus in His unstoppable ministry of healing and casting out demons is available to you today by faith and praying in tongues. Jesus will help you receive the Spirit.
Bad doctrine that leaves you with even an ounce of fear will kill you—literally. But us? We’re empowered sons, not sniveling slaves. Pray loud, command devils, snatch healing. Devil hears? Good—let him tremble; that’s the whole point. Faith moves mountains, not mountains moving faith. Circumstance doesn’t move faith; rather, as Jesus’ extreme faith doctrine teaches us, faith moves circumstances.
God’s not stingy; He wants this power surging through you more than you do. Dive into His promises day and night (Psalm 1). Believe this power is yours and you have. Disbelieve it and you will not have it. You need to mediate on the worldview Jesus handed down to us, “do not fear, only believe.” This ought to be the constant, inflexible state of our minds.
When Jesus was awoken from sleep in a deadly storm, he was upset. He did not sympathize with the disciples for being afraid in a truly deadly storm, but rebuked their unbelief. Most would accuse Jesus for being insensitive and uncaring. But Jesus does care. He cares about healing the sick, expanding the Father’s kingdom and helping us live in the fullness of our identity in Him. He thought a deadly storm, a real storm that could hurt you, is not something you should be afraid of, because of faith. Jesus said, why is your faith so small? Jesus rebuked the storm, and by this showed us what faith does. It is not a fatalistic pagan waiting to see what God does, but faith to stop a storm. James mentions the prophet doing miracles over the natural weather, and says the prayer of a righteous man is powerfully effective. Thus, Jesus expects us to walk in this extreme faith doctrine of faith, so that storms, sickness and demons are afraid of us, not the other way around.
The point is simple. You have such overwhelming power and authority in Jesus that it does not matter if you shouted all your secret plans to every demon in the world, it does not matter. You have so much power, it is irrelevant if all enemies knew your plans. You have so much power, they can’t stop you. It did not matter that the demons knew Jesus’ plans to heal the sick, cast out demons, resurrect the dead and preach the gospel. They could not stop it. They still screamed out in terror when He came, even though they had time to prepare. We have the same name of Jesus when we pray, we have the same Spirit empowered ministry and we have the seated authority in Jesus in heaven right now.
This is a worldview issue. How do you view Jesus? How do you view the enemy? How do you view yourself in Jesus?
Matthew 10:27 adds another layer: “What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.” Jesus isn’t whispering secrets for us to hoard like misers; He’s arming us with truth to shout from the rooftops. No fear of eavesdroppers—Satan or otherwise—because the light exposes and overcomes darkness. Proclaim it loud: healing, deliverance, prosperity—they’re yours in Christ’s name. The devil overhears? Let him. He’s already defeated, and your bold prayers just remind him of his eviction notice.
Bold faith isn’t arrogance; it’s obedience. Jesus publicly announced that He will use us (those who confess Jesus is God’s only Son), to storm and tear down the gates of hell. There is no fear in letting the devil know we are coming for him, because Jesus knows how much unlimited power and authority He has given us. So go ahead, climb that rooftop. Your prayers aren’t suggestions; they’re decrees backed by the King. And if demon tunes in? Tell him he’s next on the hit list. It was this type of courageous faith that made the Christians so productive in the book of Acts, and if we follow their example, we too will be effective in the kingdom of God.
In the Gospel of Luke, we encounter a powerful and vivid scene that perfectly illustrates divine authority in action: “One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick” (Luke 5:17, NIV).
This wasn’t some vague, ethereal spiritual mist floating around like early morning haze—no way. It was the tangible, manifest presence of God’s raw authority, actively enabling Jesus to confront sickness and demonic oppression head-on, without hesitation. Peter later echoes this truth powerfully in Acts, declaring how “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with him” (Acts 10:38, NIV). This should shake up any believer who’s settled for a powerless version of faith: this identical power, this very anointing of the Holy Spirit, isn’t sealed away in some historical archive exclusively for Jesus. Because of His finished work on the cross, His resurrection, His ascension to the right hand of Power, and His glorious outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, we now have direct access to that same explosive force. Yet, far too many of us live as if we’re still waiting for the spiritual UPS truck to finally arrive with our package.
Let’s unpack this thoroughly and biblically, because relying on mere empirical observations or fleshy experiences is about as useful as installing a screen door on a submarine when it comes to discerning God’s revelation. Jesus operated fully as a man under the law, born at the appointed time to redeem those who were trapped beneath it (Galatians 4:4-5). Importantly, He didn’t perform healings by tapping into His inherent divinity during His earthly ministry; instead, He did it all through the anointing of the Holy Spirit, deliberately modeling the pattern for ordinary humanity empowered by God. This is crucial—it shows us exactly how we’re meant to operate today. “If it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you,” Matthew 12:28. Jesus tell us plainly that He was casting out demons by the Spirit’s power, not His. And it is for this reason we can be like Jesus, because He has given us the same Spirit empowered ministry. This is why the tired excuse of the faithless, “well that was Jesus, or that was the apostles,” is inexcusable. Excommunicate any such people out of your life.
Jesus Himself issued this staggering promise that should ignite every believer: “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father” (John 14:12, NIV). If that doesn’t feel like a direct invitation to step boldly into the same arena of supernatural power, then what would?
Consider the seamless transition from Jesus’ earthly ministry to the ongoing ministry of His church. He ascended to heaven not to retire comfortably on a cloud strumming a harp, but to actively pour out the promised Holy Spirit—the baptism specifically for power (Acts 1:4-8). This isn’t some optional premium upgrade reserved for a select spiritual elite; it’s the standard, essential equipment for every genuine disciple who’s serious about advancing God’s kingdom on earth. Peter drove this home unmistakably on the day of Pentecost: repent, be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit—this promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself (Acts 2:38-39, NIV). Paul reinforces and expands this in Galatians, connecting the blessing of Abraham—which explicitly includes receiving the Spirit through faith—to us Gentiles as well, all through Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:14, NIV). We’re not talking about a faint, barely audible whisper of the Spirit here; this is rivers of living water flowing powerfully from within the believer, empowering us to heal the sick, prophesy boldly, cast out demons decisively, and turn the world upside down, just as the early church demonstrated so vividly.
Sadly, too many Christians today treat this available power like it’s some expired container of yogurt hidden in the back of the fridge—technically still there, but they’d rather not risk opening it. They’ll often hide behind a misunderstood view of God’s sovereignty, as if His absolute control somehow turns us into passive fatalists with no responsibility to act. But they conveniently overlook that the very same sovereign God commands us explicitly to eagerly desire and pursue spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 14:1). I’ve personally observed how unbelief can cleverly masquerade as false piety or intellectual humility, effectively blocking the free flow of God’s power in our lives and ministries. Some believers are quick to claim forgiveness solely by faith without hesitation, yet when the topic shifts to healing or miracles, suddenly it becomes “only if it’s God’s will.” That’s inconsistent nonsense. If we applied that same doubtful logic to forgiveness, we’d pray in faith for forgiveness while secretly wondering if God might sovereignly choose not to grant it after all. Total faithless hypocrisy. Let’s call it what it is; a mockery of the atonement of Jesus and the sovereignty of God.
The Bible consistently frames healing as the children’s bread, an integral part of the blessing of Abraham that we inherit and claim through bold faith (Matthew 15:26-28; Galatians 3:13-14). Jesus never paused to check the Father’s current mood or get special permission before healing someone; He simply acted in compassion, systematically destroying the works of Satan because the power of the Lord was present to heal (Luke 13:16; Acts 10:38). And that power source? None other than the Holy Spirit—the same One Jesus promised and poured out upon all believers.
Think about the story of the woman with the issue of blood for twelve long years. She didn’t wait passively for a divine memorandum or scheduled appointment; she pressed through the crowd, touched the hem of Jesus’ garment in faith, and immediately power flowed out from Him to heal her completely (Luke 8:43-48). Jesus Himself felt the power go out; she felt the healing surge through her body—it was undeniably real and tangible, like a surge of spiritual electricity coursing through a live wire. That’s precisely the kind of dynamic, faith-activated encounter we’re all invited into today. We don’t beg or grovel; we believe and receive, because our judgment was fully settled at the cross, leaving only grace and empowerment ahead for God’s children (Hebrews 12:1-11). Yet, influenced by defective or cessationist theology, some make endless excuses for why the power doesn’t manifest consistently today. They’ll say things like, “Well, we just don’t see it in our experience anymore,” as if their observations are an epistemology over the promises of Scripture. Seriously, how dumb can you be, to think knowledge comes by observation? That’s not being real; that’s unbelief and delusion.
Vincent Cheung puts it sharply when he writes (paraphrased from “Habitual Sin,” Sermonettes Vol. 6): a stubborn focus on sin or lack can dominate our thinking, but true faith shifts attention to holiness and draws continual strength from Christ’s ongoing work.
Applying this to the realm of power, if we fixate on our perceived shortcomings or past failures instead of Christ’s finished gospel, we’ll inevitably miss out on His healing, His provision, and even the full baptism of the Holy Spirit. But for those born from above, it’s all ours for the eager asking—persistently, expectantly, just like the disciples waiting obediently in the upper room in Jerusalem. And when that power finally breaks through? Get ready for the unexpected fireworks: explosive boldness to preach the gospel fearlessly, spiritual gifts manifesting suddenly and powerfully, demons fleeing in terror, and sickness bowing in defeat. I’ve experienced this transformation in my own life—after seasons of divine discipline and refining, intentionally focusing on Jesus as the author and perfecter of our faith opened wide doors to greater measures of supernatural power. It’s not theoretical or mystical; it’s functional and practical, directly advancing the kingdom with every single healing, every accurate prophecy, every impossible mountain moved by faith.
So, why on earth would anyone settle for a version of Christianity that’s all eloquent talk and zero thunderous demonstration? The same power of God that rested upon Jesus for healing is now available upon us, accessed through faith and the baptism in the Holy Spirit. It’s not something we earn through performance; it’s something we receive freely because it’s already been accomplished by Christ and we have already be re-created by its effects. If you’re still dragging your feet or making excuses, remember: unbelief actually limited what even Jesus could do in certain places during His ministry (Mark 6:5-6). Don’t let that same unbelief limit God’s power in and through your life. Seek the baptism earnestly, stir up the gifts already within you, command sickness to leave in Jesus’ name by faith, and watch God’s power flow freely. After all, as true heirs of Abraham’s blessing, we’re not beggars scrambling for crumbs outside the gate; we’re beloved sons and daughters seated at the Father’s table, with healing, miracles, deliverance, and every good gift in plentiful supply.
The Bible doesn’t leave us in the dark about how the Holy Spirit operates in distributing His gifts. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul explains clearly: the Spirit sovereignly distributes the manifestations as He determines, moving where He wills like the unpredictable wind. No one can twist His arm—He’s God, sovereign and free. Yet, immediately following this, Paul flips the perspective in chapter 14: “Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy” (1 Corinthians 14:1, ESV). Sovereignty doesn’t mean we passively sit on our hands waiting indefinitely; it means we pursue aggressively and eagerly, fully confident that He’s promised regular manifestations to those who hunger and seek Him. It’s reminiscent of the Father’s incredibly generous heart described in Luke 11: “If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13, ESV). So ask boldly, seek persistently, knock relentlessly—and expect to receive abundantly. God’s sovereignty isn’t a roadblock or excuse for powerlessness; it’s the rock-solid guarantee that our faithful pursuit will never end in disappointment.
This dynamic will happen frequently in real ministry. The gifts are primarily for the edification and benefit of others. So whenever a genuine need arises and you respond with true compassion, the power of the Spirit will often show up right then to anoint you specifically to meet that need. It doesn’t depend on whether you’ve previously operated easily in that particular gift; you’re freshly anointed in the moment to serve those around you. Of course, some believers may find certain gifts flow more naturally or frequently for them, but many make the grave error of then limiting the Holy Spirit based on that pattern. In reality, all of us, through the same Spirit, have unrestricted access to the full spectrum of God’s power. All it takes is faith to believe, a clear need to address, and genuine compassion to motivate—and the Spirit will desire to flow through you even more eagerly than you desire it yourself.
Just as the woman with the flow of blood dramatically “felt” the healing power surge into her body, the Spirit’s power is often tangible and perceptible. When the healing anointing of the Spirit is sensed or felt by more than one person in the room, we can describe this as the manifesting presence of God has arrived to heal—or to prophesy, or to deliver. This incredible reality is available to every single one of us through the baptism in the Holy Spirit. We all need more of it, deeper immersions, fresh fillings. The needs of hurting people around us, but the power of the Spirit is greater. A combination of faith, compassion, and eagerness to seek this power will inevitably bring results. As Jesus Himself promised, if you seek, you will find (Matthew 7:7, ESV).
Paul reiterates the Spirit’s sovereignty in 1 Corinthians 12: “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills” (1 Corinthians 12:11, ESV). He sovereignly distributes gifts like words of wisdom, words of knowledge, extraordinary faith, gifts of healing, working of miracles, prophecy, discerning of spirits, various kinds of tongues, and interpretation of tongues. It’s entirely His prerogative—no coercion possible. But sovereignty isn’t a restrictive cage; it’s a powerful catapult for those who pursue. Paul doesn’t instruct us to “sit tight and maybe you’ll get something someday.” Instead, he commands: “Earnestly desire the higher gifts” (1 Corinthians 12:31, ESV), and then intensifies the call in chapter 14 to pursue them all actively, especially prophecy. God’s sovereignty has beautifully rigged the system so that sincere seekers consistently hit the jackpot—regular, reliable manifestations of power rather than rare flukes. So if you currently operate more easily in one or two gifts, ok great—keep going! But press in further, and God will expand your capacity to flow in more gifts as you seek Him faithfully. A person’s perceived idea that they are meant to operate in one particular gift, is based only their fleshing induction rather than what the scripture makes available.
Sovereignty isn’t stingy or withholding—it’s extravagantly generous, even breaking through our doubts to deliver miracles when necessary. But why settle for occasional overrides when we can align our hearts with His will and experience constant flow? Active seeking aligns us perfectly, turning “sometimes” into “constant” in practice. The Spirit’s sovereignty assures us that when we chase Him wholeheartedly, He will pour out without measure. As Cheung further notes in “Good Gifts from the Father,” persistently asking for the Holy Spirit unlocks comprehensive power for preaching, healing, casting out demons—everything the kingdom requires, all in one glorious package (Vincent Cheung, 2016). Seek diligently, and the sovereign Spirit will manifest regularly.
Consider the Roman centurion in Matthew 8— he perfectly understood authority and sovereignty, confidently declaring that Jesus could simply speak a command over sickness just as he commanded soldiers. Jesus marveled publicly: “Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith” (Matthew 8:10, ESV). Grasping God’s sovereignty didn’t make the centurion passive or hesitant—it fueled his bold, expectant request. Sickness is ultimately from the devil; it glorifies Satan by sidelining believers and stalling kingdom advance. The Holy Spirit shows up decisively to demolish that oppression, anointing ordinary believers like you and me to heal in the moment—no fancy resume or prior track record required.
Compassion is key.
This anointing will often happen precisely because the gifts are for building up and blessing others. When a real need suddenly appears on the scene, the Spirit provides spot-anointing, equipping you right then and there. You don’t need advanced degrees in spiritual gifts or years of specialized experience; all that’s required is some measure of faith to receive the anointing and genuine compassion to minister to the hurting person.
Sickness originates from the devil; it’s part of the curse of the law that Jesus redeemed us from, and He began demolishing it systematically in His ministry while commanding all His disciples to continue the battle without compromise. We are explicitly commanded to exercise faith for healing—both for ourselves and in compassion for others. Chase prophecy like your spiritual life depends on it—because in many ways, it does. Refusing to pursue prophecy is essentially refusing to pursue God Himself more deeply. Remember Paul’s charge to Timothy: fan into flame the gift of God within you, hold fast to the prophecies spoken over you, and fight the good fight of faith with prophetic power (1 Timothy 1:18; 2 Timothy 1:6-7). Having compassion and allowing the Spirit to flow through you to help heal, will set a person free from bondage. A prophecy will give them something to fan their faith for a lifetime. And you can be the person to minister this. Young, old, male or female, any can do it. Every power released can save a life, set free and build up for new strength.
In the end, this supernatural power is designed not only for God’s ultimate glory but also for our joy and glory, which then glorifies Him. We do this by faithfully mirroring Jesus’ own ministry on earth. It’s like God’s delightful inside joke: when we step out and wield His power by faith, we get flooded with joy in the process, and everybody wins eternally. So chase Him with everything you’ve got, and watch the power chase right back. Believe expectantly, and you’ll see the sick healed, the oppressed gloriously freed, captives released—just as He did then and empowers us to do now. The question isn’t whether the power is still available today; the real question is whether we’ll grab it with both hands and run with it—like it’s the greatest treasure in the universe. Because, spoiler alert: it is.
Listen, if you’re still camping out at the cross like it’s the whole story, you’ve missed the main point—and Hebrews straight-up calls you out on it. The cross was the doorway. The resurrection, the hallway. But the throne room? That’s the destination, the present-tense reality, the place where the gospel actually lives and breathes and swings a sledgehammer at every sickness dumb enough to stick around. The writer of Hebrews doesn’t waste time: “Now this is the main point of the things we are saying: We have such a High Priest, who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens” (Heb. 8:1). Main point. Not side note. Not optional extra credit. The main point.
Most Christians treat the gospel like a get-out-of-hell-free card and stop there. Forgiveness? Wonderful. However, the gospel is Jesus—resurrected, ascended, crowned, and actively reigning—pouring out the Spirit on everyone who dares to believe that He’s not still bleeding on a Roman pole. Paul told Timothy the gospel he preached was “Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David” (2 Tim. 2:8). Why David? Because David means King. The resurrection wasn’t just Jesus getting a pulse back; it was God installing His King on Zion’s hill while the nations rage in vain (Ps. 2). That’s the gospel Paul risked his neck for. Anything less is a truncated, neutered, half-gospel that leaves believers limping around like spiritual invalids.
Think about Pentecost. The disciples had seen the resurrected Jesus—walked with Him, touched Him, ate fish with Him. And Jesus still said, “Not yet. Stay in the city until you’re clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). Why? Because seeing the out-of-the-grave Jesus wasn’t enough. They needed the enthroned Jesus to blast the Spirit through them like a divine firehose. Exalted to the right hand of God. Acts 2:33, “Exalted to the right hand of God, he has received from the Father the promised Holy Spirit and has poured out what you now see and hear.” Peter didn’t preach “Jesus died for you—now go be nice.” He preached “God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ—and He’s currently sitting on the throne pouring out everything you just saw.” Tongues, prophecy, miracles—that’s the enthroned Jesus flexing. If your gospel doesn’t include that, you’re preaching a dead man’s biography instead of a living King’s decree.
We approach a throne, not a torture device. Hebrews 4:16 doesn’t say “come crawling to the cross.” It says come boldly to the throne of grace. Why? Because there’s a Man on it—our Man—who already settled the sin issue and now rules everything for the church (Eph. 1:22). The cross is finished. The grave is empty. The throne is occupied. And—get this—we’re seated there with Him right now (Eph. 2:6). Not “will be someday.” Are seated. Present tense. God has already positioned you above every sickness, demon, and circumstance because you’re in the Son and the Son is on the throne. That’s not hoping to be. You are. The only question is whether you’ll start acting like it or keep groveling like a spiritual orphan.
Sickness Is Satan’s Glory, Not God’s. Jesus saw sickness as Satan’s direct attack on Him, His Father, and His people. So, He smashed it wherever He found it. The only time He didn’t stomp out sickness—which Satan was causing—was when unbelief blocked Him. Think about that: unbelief stopped Jesus, but Satan couldn’t.
If Jesus is currently seated at the right hand of Power—session complete, enemies becoming His footstool (Heb. 10:12-13)—then why are we letting Satan cockblock the saints from the benefits of the atonement? Because too many Christians are still mentally kneeling at an empty cross begging for crumbs when they ought to be seated on a throne commanding mountains to move. The atonement purchased healing; the ascension enforces it. Isaiah 53:4-5 isn’t a suggestion—it’s a paid-in-full receipt. Jesus bore (nasa) our sicknesses the same way He bore our sins. Same word. Same substitution. Same finality. If you’re still sick, it’s not because the bill hasn’t been paid; it’s because you’re refusing to cash the check from the throne room.
People love to quote “by His stripes we are healed” and then act like it’s a nice sentiment instead of a legal reality enforced by the enthroned King. That’s like having a signed presidential pardon in your pocket and still sitting in prison because you “feel guilty.” Feel guilty all you want—Jesus is not on the cross; He is sitting in absolute victory, and He’s made you bone of His bone and flesh of His flesh. Your feelings don’t change the throne’s power to ensure His atonement.
The same goes for every promise. Prosperity? Yes—because the King owns everything, H has already bore our poverty and He has made us co-heirs with Him as a present living reality. Power? Yes—because the One who spoke galaxies into existence now lives in you and has authorized you to use His name like it’s your own (because legally, it is). Miracles? Greater works than Jesus did in His earthly ministry, because now He’s not limited to one body in one location—He’s multiplied Himself in millions of believers worldwide doing greater miracles than Him, all seated with Him far above every power (John 14:12, Eph. 1:21).
Those who deny this stuff aren’t just mistaken—they’re insulting the King on His coronation day. The King has spoken: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me—therefore go.” Not “go and be barely saved.” Go and disciple nations. Go and heal the sick. Go and cast out demons. Go and raise the dead. Go and speak to mountains until they jump into the sea. This is how the present Jesus rules from this throne (Mark 11:23-24). We believe the King.
The gospel is not Jesus hanging bloody and defeated—it’s Jesus crowned and commanding. It’s not “maybe He’ll help if He’s in a good mood.” It’s “He always helps because He’s already won and He His love for His bride is not measurable. The cross reconciled us; the throne empowers us. The cross saved us from sin; the throne saves us into dominion. If you’re still living like the story ended at Golgotha, you’re reading the Bible with the last chapters ripped out.
All things are yours. Not some things on Sundays if the worship team is on point. All things. Jesus is not pacing heaven worried about your problem—He’s laughing at His enemies (Ps. 2:4) while handing you the keys to the kingdom. Your job is to stop acting like a slave and start acting like royalty.
Stop praying beggar prayers from the foot-of-the-cross theology. Start issuing throne-room decrees from ascended-Christ reality. Speak to cancer, poverty, depression, demons—whatever—and watch reality rearrange itself around the word of the King coming out of your mouth. Not because you have power. Because He has all power and has made you His mouth, His hands, His feet on the earth.
The gospel is Jesus sitting on a throne—and you sitting there with Him, right now, laughing at the devil’s pathetic attempts to cockblock you out of your inheritance. The enthroned Christ isn’t here to comfort you in your unbelief. He’s here to push you into the throne room until you finally realize you’ve been royalty all along.
Welcome to the gospel. The real one. Not the one with a cross as the symbol. But the one with a crown
Oshea Davis 