Tag Archives: throne

Breaking All Confinement

The initial blast of the Spirit’s anointing power shatters the heavy yoke of Satan’s confinement—sickness, lack, oppression, bent-over vision—and lets you feel the weights fly off your shoulders. That relative freedom is real and glorious. But the hundredfold absolute freedom—the kind where every remaining strap snaps and you run unhindered into the full good dream God has written over your life—only comes when you get so fat on the daily, visible fulfillment of His promises that the old hindrances can’t hold you anymore. You are the righteousness of God in Christ. You are already seated with the enthroned King. Speak it, receive it, grow fat on it. Watch every scheme of the enemy shatter—then run like Elijah outpacing the horses.

Isaiah 10:27 is the classic line: the burden lifts from the shoulder, the yoke from the neck, and the yoke is destroyed because of the anointing—or, as the Hebrew also carries it, “the yoke will be broken because of fatness.” (LSB). The popular charismatic reading of the “anointing oil” as the Holy Spirit’s power is not wrong; it simply needs the rest of the picture.

So let’s talk about the anointing of the Holy Ghost. The Spirit comes in power to break bondages and give freedom. Jesus Himself launched His ministry by reading Isaiah 61 and declaring the Spirit of the Lord was upon Him to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and to set the oppressed free (Luke 4:18-19). Acts 10:38 says 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. That same Spirit is poured out on you. The baptism of power is not optional decoration. It is the explosive force that breaks yokes and bondages.

When that power hits, something breaks. It is unstoppable. A healing lands. A financial door flies open. A demonic oppression lifts. A relationship that felt dead suddenly has oxygen. Relative to the crushing weight you were under, it feels like total liberty. You start moving. You start breathing. You start smiling like a man who just had the wagon unhitched from his neck. That emotional and spiritual high from a miracle that just saved you is legitimate. Do not despise it. It feels good and it should. However, here’s the trap. Do not stop there and call it the finish line. The miracle is real and powerful, but it was the starting gun, not the trophy. The ox is free enough to walk, yet some straps and gear still cling. Thirtyfold. Sixtyfold. Not yet the hundredfold where the animal is so fat, so healthy, so bulked up with the very goodness of God that the remaining wood and leather simply explode off its neck and it is free to run.

Look at the woman Jesus healed in Luke 13. This story gives us a clean picture of what happens when the initial miracle hits—when the Spirit lands His first blow against the demonic oppression in your life. A common result of that first spiritual salvo is that your head is free to lift up and see a good future. In the story, the woman—bound by Satan for eighteen years, bent over—could only see her own feet. That is the posture of demonic confinement: eyes locked on the dirt, the symptoms, the lack, the failed reports, the small horizon. Stress, worry, and negative images rule your thoughts and vision. When Jesus called her free and laid hands on her, she straightened up by divine healing. Now she could finally lift her head. Suddenly the world opened. She could see distance. She could see possibility. That is what the initial anointing miracle does—it lifts the head. Now you can see the dream. You begin to visualize a good future. God wants to grant you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37:4). Not some truncated, “spiritualized only” version. The real desires. The ones that, when fulfilled, enlarge His kingdom by enlarging you. A mansion to spit in the face of the faithless, then a hundred houses for a hundred missionaries. Preaching with power that heals the sick on the spot. Family so whole the next generation inherits blessing instead of bondage. Old besetting sins loosen and fall off. A body so thoroughly healed that even the little things—bad eyesight, lingering fatigue, that one joint that always complained—are gone. Financial surplus that is not just debt-free but overflowing, so you can give and build your big dreams without the old god of lack whispering that you don’t have enough. And in your fatness, you realize you now have the strength to grab your family and friends and help them the way God helped you.

That full freedom is the fatness. You become fat with the promises of God already fulfilled in your experience. You are not waiting for some future day when you finally “arrive.” You are the promises of God. The gospel defines you that way. Jesus became sin so that you might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21). He became poor so that by His poverty you might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). By His stripes you were healed (Isaiah 53:5; 1 Peter 2:24). The blessing of Abraham—Spirit, miracles, fame, military victories, favor, increase—is already yours by faith (Galatians 3:13-14). These are not distant hopes. They are your present ontology because you are fused to the enthroned Christ. You are seated with Him in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6). Seated means the work is finished, so you sit—and you sit in a place of authority. Scripture does not say only Jesus was seated in the heavenly places; it says God made us sit there with Him. That’s right: you are already seated. Your work is already done, because He already did it, and the Father already transferred His righteousness, grace, and blessings to your account. They are yours. You are a royal priesthood in a seated place of authority—not later. Now. Sickness, lack, and demonic schemes are under His feet, therefore under yours. They are under the throne of Jesus, and because you are already seated with Him there, they are under your authority.

So how do you get fat? You stop speaking the evil report of observations and start speaking the promise. Daily. Relentlessly. You cultivate a mind of righteousness. Get rid of the old sin-consciousness that only makes you more sinful. You are the righteousness of God now, and your inner thoughts should be non-stop righteous consciousness. You look at the doctor’s chart and say, “By His stripes I was healed—therefore I am healed.” You look at the bank account and say, “Jesus became poor so I am rich—therefore supply is mine.” You look at the mountain of impossibility and speak to it the way a man speaks who already owns the title deed: “Be removed and cast into the sea” (Mark 11:23). Faith is not a feeling you wait for. Faith is mental assent to what God has already declared. When you consistently agree with God’s definition of you, your vision and the imaginations of your heart clarify into a big, bright future. The promises start landing in the open. Healing multiplies. Answers to prayer become more regular. Relationships heal. The surplus appears. Every little lingering strap that the enemy still hoped to use snaps under the sheer bulk of fulfilled goodness.

Picture it. The ox that once strained under the yoke now stands thick-necked and powerful, muscle packed on from the rich pasture of faith in God’s promise. The old wood and leather creak, then crack, then explode off in pieces. No more tug. No more residual weight. Nothing left clinging. That is the hundredfold. You run. You fulfill the desires of your heart. And in the running, His kingdom expands through every desire of your heart that materializes. Best deal in the universe: He gets the glory of a son who actually lives free, and you get the life of God granting the dreams of your heart. You get to live with God as your exceedingly great reward, the way He was with Abraham His friend.

Do not settle for the initial high and call it enough. That is limiting God. The Spirit’s power is not a one-time blast followed by a lifetime of managing leftover chains. That’s the lie the faithless will try to sell you. They are the voice of Satan, and they populate many churches and pews. The true fatness of God’s power and blessing is designed for the hundredfold. It is the power that keeps making you fat with every promise you dare to believe and speak. Storm the throne. Confess who you are. Command the mountain. Grow so fat with the goodness of God that every remaining piece of the old yoke explodes off your neck.

Head up. Eyes on the horizon. Growing fat with the promises. That is the hundredfold. That is breaking all confinement. Let nothing stand in your way—not Satan, not your family and not even the church. Break all confinement.

Throne Identity – Throne Application

Vincent Cheung put some clean, heavy rounds into the target with his essay on “Theology of the Throne.” In fact, eschatology runs on one present-tense fact: Jesus is seated. Not “will be someday when everything is neat and tidy.” Not “spiritually in some vague, non-threatening sense that lets you stay sick and powerless.” Seated. Right now. At the right hand of Power.

The cross was the doorway. The empty tomb was the victory parade. The throne is the address.

And if you’re still camping at the doorway like a spiritual tourist taking selfies with a finished beam, you’ve missed the entire reason there was a cross.

Hebrews Does Not Open with a Pity Party

Vincent exposed how Hebrews does not begin with sentimental cross-gazing. It opens with the Son who, after making purification for sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high (Hebrews 1:3). The writer does not warm up with “behold the wounds.” He starts with completion and authority. Then he keeps swinging the same hammer. Vincent then shows the application is about the throne.

It is true that Hebrews talks much about the Contracts and High Priest theology, but these rabbit holes that the preacher chase to help his slow-thinking audience can confuse people into thinking those are the main points. The main point of the Contract, as chapter 8 makes clear, is that only the enthroned Jesus makes it a present reality ruling reality. This is why the thesis statement of Hebrews (1:3) is not primarily about a high priest, but about an enthroned Jesus ruling in authority.

By chapter 4 we are not told to crawl back to Calvary for another guilt session so we can feel properly broken. We are commanded to come boldly to the “throne” of grace that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16). The thesis is the enthroned high priest, not mainly about a high priest—though the high priest aspect gives us an important foundation. We are not told to go boldly to the high priest or to a cross, but to the throne of grace. Authority and power, not mere sympathy, grant your requests for help. The loving High Priest we draw near to is not hanging. He is seated.

Later the same book tells us to look to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despised the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God (Hebrews 12:2). The author of your faith we are told to look to is specifically said to be on a throne and ruling with authority. Because Jesus is ruling, He has the power and authority to ensure your faith is grown and matured to perfection.

Hebrews is not mainly about the cross. It is a book about the throne and the authority of the enthroned King, who already made the new Contract active. We are told about the foundations that make the throne so approachable—such as a sympathetic high priest who finished our salvation once for all, with a the best of the best Contract. But the Hebrew point is about Jesus on the throne. Hebrews is pointing us to focus, not on the old tree, but on the place where the current Jesus lives. The One who perfects your faith is not the One still bleeding. He is the enthroned King who lives to intercede for you. You cannot run the race by staring at a finished beam like it’s still the main event. You run it by locking eyes with the One who already finished it and now rules from the throne of power and grace.

This is not mainly cross theology. This is throne theology. And once you see it, the applications detonate.

You Are Already Seated — Stop Acting Like You’re Not

Paul tells the Colossians they have already been raised with Christ. Therefore seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on things on the earth (Colossians 3:1-2). Why? Because that is already your location. Your identity. Your existence. You do not become seated later if you behave well enough. You are seated. So live like it. Think from the throne room, not from the dirt under your feet.

Ephesians doubles down with zero mercy for the timid. God raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 2:6). The same power that raised Christ from the dead and seated Him far above every rule and authority and power and dominion is now at work in us who believe (Ephesians 1:19-23). Everything is under His feet—and therefore under ours—because we are His body and His body is on the throne.

It is not merely that things are under your feet while you scramble around on earth trying to “get the victory.” Things are under your feet while you sit on the throne. Think about that for two seconds. All things are under your—that’s right, your—throne of authority. Paul says, past tense, you have been seated with Jesus. To sit is a symbol of completed work and authority. Jesus finished the work, which is why not only is Jesus seated, you are also resting and sitting. You are sitting with Jesus on a throne. This is why Peter says you are a “royal priesthood.” You are royal because you are seated with Jesus, who is seated on a throne. That is why you can heal the sick, cast out demons, and tell mountains to move. The authority is not a temporary loan that expires when you feel unworthy. It is the permanent position of a royal priesthood. You do not go in and out of it depending on your quiet time. You always have it. Since Jesus is always in His position of authority on His throne, you always have it. Do you see it now? If you refuse to use it, you are not being humble. You are being negligent and stupid.

The Only Witness Available to You Right Now

I cannot be an eyewitness of the cross. I have never seen it. I do not know where the empty tomb is. I cannot stand there and point for the camera. What I can be, right now, is a witness of the enthroned Jesus Christ, because I am already seated with Him. That is the only present-tense testimony available to us.

Look at Acts. Peter’s first sermon that launched the church age was not a long, tearful meditation on the nails. It was a declaration that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ—and that this same Jesus is currently exalted to the right hand of God, has received the promised Holy Spirit, and has poured out what you now see and hear (Acts 2:32-36). Tongues. Power. Prophecy. That is the enthroned Jesus flexing. The rest of the book is the church operating from that occupied throne.

When Stephen looked up, he did not see a cross or a tomb. He saw the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God (Acts 7:55-56). I am a witness of Jesus on Throne, by using my Throne authority, as I am seated with Jesus. That is the power that shook the world. The apostles were never the point. Stop and think about that for a moment. It was not about apostles or men. Making men the point is man-centeredness, and it always ends in celebrity culture and powerless religion. The point is the reigning Christ. The book of Acts is the Age of the enthroned Christ. Because He is on the throne, we are seated with Him and therefore carry authority. What you bind is bound. What you loose is loosed. You have the authority to cast out demons, heal the sick, and command reality because you are already on the throne with Him.

Permanent Authority, Not Mood-Based Permission

You are a royal priesthood. That is not a future promotion. That is present reality. You always have the authority. You do not need to “work yourself up into faith” or wait for a special anointing conference. The throne is already under you. Wiggle your butt—do you feel it? That is the throne beneath you. Wiggle your toes—that is the footstool of the throne, and it is beneath you. The Name of Jesus is already engraved on your tongue. The Spirit has already been poured out from that throne for power.

If you choose not to use it, that is on you. The power that took over the Roman world was not the power of gifted apostles. It was the power of ordinary believers who knew they were seated with the King and therefore acted like it. The book of Acts is not the age of the apostles. It is the age of the occupied throne.

Conquer Now or Don’t Expect a Throne Later

Revelation seals the logic with zero sentimentality. To the one who conquers, Jesus grants the right to sit with Him on His throne, just as He conquered and sat down with His Father on His throne (Revelation 3:21). Notice the condition. Not “to the one who was forgiven.” To the one who conquers. Why?

Let’s ask another question. How do you conquer? By knowing your present position in Christ, by binding and loosing, by healing the sick, by ruling in life now. That is the proof you actually believe you are forgiven and righteous. The people who still see themselves primarily as sinners never rule. They cannot. Sin-consciousness keeps them off the throne in their own minds. They keep dry-humping the empty cross while the King is throwing a victory party two rooms over. Yes, you heard that right. I’m not mocking the cross, I’m mocking your perverted, faithless behavior on the cross. It’s gross, and we can all see you doing it.

But the one who truly believes the blood has perfected him forever (Hebrews 10:14) sits down, opens his mouth, and exercises the authority that already belongs to him. That present conquering is the evidence of real faith. And the promise stands: those who live from the throne now will sit on thrones later.

How Kings Pray from the Throne

Here is the practical payoff. The book of Hebrews, which is about the throne of grace and the authority of the seated High Priest, gives us the application in chapters 4, 10, and 12: go to the throne. Chapter 4 says go boldly to the throne of grace to ask and to receive. That is not a suggestion for the extra-spiritual. That is the normal operating system for everyone who is already seated with Christ in the heavenly places.

So when you pray, how do you see yourself?

Paul says you need to see yourself in the heavenly places, already seated with Jesus—not just standing before Him as a nervous petitioner hoping the King notices you. You are already on the throne with Him. This is why Peter in Acts 3 can look at a crippled man and say, “What I have, I give. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” Peter was not flexing apostle status. He was operating from the same position every believer already has. Because Jesus is on a throne, Peter is on a throne. Because Jesus is on a throne, you are on a throne. From that position he could say, “What I have (authority from the throne), I give.” Jesus gave him—and all of us—His name to use. Get up and walk.

This is why you can decree. This is why you can bind and loose. You are already on a throne. Not “you are going to be if you pray hard enough.” You are. Therefore when you pray, you do not beg like a peasant at the palace gate. Does a king beg? Does Jesus sit there and say, “Oh please, will someone help Me out here?” No. He is on a throne. He is a King. And here is the big idea: you are on the throne with Him.

That is why you do not beg and hedge. That is why you say, “What I have, I give. Walk. Get out of my way, mountain. Leave, Satan.” You already have the authority. That is why you can pray with such confidence. That is why the word-of-faith people are right when they pray without hedging by decreeing. Kings do not negotiate with reality. Kings decree. Kings command.

This is why you can (and should) imagine yourself visually in the throne room of heaven—on a throne or standing next to it, the way Stephen saw Jesus standing at the right hand of God. From that place you open your mouth as a king and say:

“Jesus, as You are before me and the Father, I make this declaration. I am prosperous. I stand on behalf of my brother—he is healed in Jesus’ name. I decree blessing on him.”

And it will happen, because you are in authority. You can actually do that. And if you have faith for it, God will honor your words as the king that you already are.

Stop the Zombie Theology

This is why cross-centered theology is so destructive and, frankly, demonic. It is not humility. It is a sophisticated way to remain an atheist while still using Christian vocabulary. Jesus is not on the cross. You cannot have a living relationship with Someone who is not there. You can remember the cross. You should thank Him for it. The Lord’s Supper commands us to remember. But remembrance assumes you are not stuck there like a spiritual zombie still trying to get blood out of a finished sacrifice.

To camp at the foot of the cross is a dead man’s religion and a zombie theology. The King is alive. You cannot talk to a corpse. You cannot get power from a corpse. Jesus is on the throne, and the table is already spread in His presence. You do not crawl to the doorway forever while the King is calling you to sit down and reign.

The cross was finished. The tomb is empty. The throne is occupied.

And you are seated there with Him right now. Conquer now. Rule now.

That is the proof you know you are righteous. And the promise of heaven is waiting for those who live the conquering life.

Stay At the Foot Of The Cross

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Power Identification Theology

The Believer as Extension of the Enthroned Christ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Direct and Constant Access to God

Years ago, when I first dove into Vincent Cheung’s commentary on Colossians, it hit me like thunderclap. There I was, flipping through chapter 2, and Vincent further explains what Paul calls “shadows” or “shadow religion”—those rituals, holidays, and sensory crutches that masquerade as piety but throw a veil over the direct, unfiltered access to God that Jesus secured for us. It’s not just ancient Jewish festivals Paul was warning against; Vincent applies it straight to our modern mess, like Christmas trees and Easter bunnies, turning what should be a vibrant, Spirit-drenched faith into a dim echo of the real thing. The church today needs this message hammered home, because we’re no better than those early believers clinging to calendar days, thinking they add something extra when Jesus already delivered the full package. His atonement is finished, His ascension locked in that ongoing ministry of blessings at the Father’s right hand—no bells, no smells, no seasonal vibes required to tap into it. We’ve got it all, right now, if we’d just believe.

In his Commentary on Colossians (2008), Vincent Cheung unpacks Colossians 2:16-17: “These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” He drives home how Paul is dismantling the Colossian heresy that promised deeper spirituality but delivered nothing but chains. Vincent writes, “The regulations mentioned—’Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!’—refer to things that are all destined to perish with use, because they are based on human commands and teachings. Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence” (Colossians 2:21-23). Then he ties it to contemporary traps: “Christian traditions like Christmas or Lent often function the same way, imposing man-made observances that veil the direct reality of Christ. They suggest we need these shadows to approach God, when the substance is already ours in Him.” It’s a reminder that anything sensory—sights, sounds, smells—we lean on to “feel closer” to God is just a step back into the old covenant’s dim previews, when we’ve got the high-definition fulfillment in Jesus.

Paul isn’t mincing words—these observances were pointers, not the point. The reality is Christ, full stop. No more veils, no more middleman rituals. Satan loves these shadows because they distract from the direct line Jesus opened. The church today is starved for this truth—we’re drowning in sensory religion while the Spirit’s river flows untapped, and the word is not believed.

 In a world where barriers seem to define so much of our existence—whether it’s the red tape of bureaucracy, the emotional walls we build in relationships, or even the digital firewalls that guard our online lives—it’s liberating to consider what the Bible teaches about our access to God. This isn’t some distant, occasional privilege reserved for the spiritual elite, like a VIP pass to a concert that only works on special occasions. No, through Jesus Christ, we have direct and constant access to the Father, a reality that reshapes everything from our answered prayers to our eternal confidence. As I reflect on this, I can’t help but think how the faithless complicate what God has made straightforward.

The New Testament paints a vivid picture of this access, rooted in the finished work of Christ. Consider Ephesians 2:18, where Paul declares, “For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.” Here, the apostle is addressing the radical shift brought by Jesus’ death and resurrection, tearing down the dividing wall between Jews and Gentiles, but more broadly, between humanity and God. Before Christ, access was mediated through priests, sacrifices, and the temple veil—a system of shadows that pointed forward but never fully delivered the intimacy we now enjoy. That veil, symbolizing separation due to sin, was literally torn in two at the moment of Jesus’ crucifixion (Matthew 27:51), signaling that the way into the Holy of Holies is now open to all who believe. It’s not a seasonal thing, like waiting for the right festival or the perfect alignment of stars; it’s constant, available at any hour, in any circumstance. Hebrews 4:16 urges us to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” Boldly! Not with timidity or hesitation, as if we’re crashing a party uninvited. This is the throne room of the universe’s Sovereign, and we’re welcomed as sons and daughters, not strangers.

We can approach those ancient throne room doors to God Himself. We can push against them and swing those massive doors wide open. As we look, the middle of the throne room is empty. But off to the sides are angels and other heavenly hosts. They do not stand in the middle, before God, because they don’t have that type of access. But we do. All eyes watch us as we march down the center aisle, with our heads held high. We march in with boldness, as if we are God’s sons, who are co-heirs—not just mere sub-heirs—with Jesus Christ. We walk in with our heads held high, as if we are the very body of Jesus Christ, because we are. We were not first given a specific reason to come in at that moment. But we can anyway, unannounced. We stand before the throne, looking at God face to face, and boldly make our requests known to God. And God gives us what we ask for. God does this because when He sees us, He sees His Son. He thinks we are part of His Son, and God’s thoughts are the only thoughts that matter on the subject. God is correct, and I agree with God. I am part of Jesus and get prayers answered while boldly walking in and asking without hedging. Who am I to disagree with the Power?

To grasp the depth of this, we look back to the Old Testament contrasts that highlight the new covenant’s superiority. In Exodus 19, when God descended on Mount Sinai, the people trembled at a distance, warned not to touch the mountain lest they die. Even Moses, that great mediator, approached with fear and awe. Yet, in the New Testament, we’re invited to draw near without such dread, because Jesus has become our great High Priest who “ever lives to intercede” for us (Hebrews 7:25). This intercession isn’t a barrier; it’s the guarantee of our direct line to the Father. Romans 5:2 echoes this: “through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” Notice the present tense—we stand in it now, not sporadically or conditionally. Faith is the key that unlocks this, and as Vincent Cheung aptly notes in his commentary on faith’s role, it provides “unhindered, direct access to God,” serving as proof of our election. We don’t manufacture this access through rituals or good deeds; it’s gifted through Christ’s atonement, where He bore our sins and opened the path once for all.

 In Ephesians 2, it says we’re sitting with Jesus in the heavenly places. Not that we will be one day, but we already are. If you don’t see yourself that way, it’s because you do not believe God’s word and think He is a liar. Repent and start to agree with your Creator. Think about it. At this very moment, when the Father thinks of you, He thinks you are right now seated with Jesus, who sits at His right hand. He never thinks less of you than in that position with Jesus. If you are not experiencing the benefits of being seated with Jesus right now, that’s your fault and unbelief. God thinks you are, and so you are.

Too many Christians treat this access like an old phone line they only pick up in emergencies, crackling with static from doubt or tradition. They pile on layers of “helps,” like special days or sensory aids, thinking it draws them closer, when in reality, it veils the directness Jesus secured. Days like Christmas or Easter, while culturally ingrained, aren’t biblical doctrines, and so they can subtly shift our focus from revelation and the Spirit to a fleshly starting point. The early church faced similar temptations with Jewish festivals, as Paul warns in Colossians 2:16-17: “Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.” Shadows! They’re not the substance. The reason a person wants a shadow and not the real thing is because they do not believe the real exists, or worse, they don’t like it. Our access isn’t enhanced by smells of incense or sounds of carols; it’s sustained by the Holy Spirit, who cries out “Abba, Father” within us (Romans 8:15). This reluctance to embrace constant access often stems from unbelief, masquerading as humility. We think, “Who am I to march boldly into God’s presence?” But the Bible flips that: “How dare you not boldly approach, when Christ has paid such a high price?”

Delving deeper into Scripture, Ephesians 3:12 reinforces this boldness: “In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence.” Freedom—that’s the Greek word parrhesia, implying open, unreserved speech, like chatting with a close friend rather than petitioning a distant king. This isn’t license for irreverence, but it shatters any notion of intermittent access. Jesus Himself modeled this in His prayers, addressing the Father intimately, and He invites us to do the same in John 16:26-27: “In that day you will ask in my name. I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God.” See that? No middleman needed beyond Christ’s ongoing mediation, which empowers our direct petitions. This ties into our identity as co-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17), where all things are ours, including this unfettered communion. It’s about asking for wants and getting them, but it also includes all sorts of benefits, such as constant and direct fellowship, where we abide in Him as branches in the vine (John 15:4-5), drawing life, miracles, prosperity, and every sort of favor, moment by moment.

Hebrews 10:19-22 urges, “Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body… let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings.” The “new and living way” isn’t static; it’s dynamic, sustained by faith that actively receives. Unbelief can hinder this, much like the Israelites who limited God by their grumbling (Psalm 78:41). They had manna from heaven, yet craved Egypt’s leeks—a foolish trade. Similarly, if we doubt our access, we forfeit the peace, power, and provision flowing from God’s throne.

“Beloved, now we are children of God… we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And everyone who has this hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure,” (1 John 3:2-3 NKJV). “Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life…,” (Colossians 3:2-3 NKJV). We draw strength not from self-effort, but from this constant access, where our seated position in Christ refines us by walking in that position when we ask, receive, and praise God. As we see ourselves better as already seated with Jesus, seeing His rich life pouring into us, the more we purify ourselves. The better we see how awesome we are in Christ and walk in that bold access, the more we have power to walk in purity and holiness. People often try to do the opposite of John’s instruction. The order is to first believe who you are, and the proof that you are believing your identity in Christ is if you can boldly ask and receive miracles, and then by doing this you will purify yourself in holiness.

Imagine waking up, not with a list of rituals to “get right with God,” but with the immediate awareness that the throne room doors are swung wide. You pray for healing, and James 5:15 assures, “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.” You seek wisdom, and James 1:5 promises generous provision without reproach. Even in trials, like Peter’s denial followed by restoration (John 21), access remains, because our standing is in Christ’s righteousness, not our performance. The callings and gifts of God are irrevocable. God sees you as already righteous without any sinful markings on your record. And what God thinks is the only thinking that matters. This is irrevocable. Your righteousness record is forever. God thinks you are a royal priesthood, now, not later. God thinks you are seated with His Son in the heavenly places. This is irrevocable. It was based on Jesus’ finished work and given freely to you in grace. It has nothing to do with your performance.

Direct and constant access to God isn’t a theological footnote; it’s the heartbeat of the gospel. It mocks the idea that we need additives to spice up our spirituality, reminding us that Christ is sufficient. As we stand in this grace, let’s live it out with the frank boldness it deserves—no more hiding behind shadows when the Light Himself beckons us near. If we’re not experiencing this daily, perhaps it’s time to examine our faith, repent of unbelief, and step into the throne room. After all, the Father isn’t stingy; He’s extravagantly welcoming, eager for our company. In the words of 1 John 5:14-15, “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.” That’s not wishful thinking; that’s gospel power, yours for the taking. Because God sees us as part of His Son, and thinks the blessing of Abraham already applies to us, “what we want” is the threshold that qualifies as “asking according to His will.” The only time what we want is not God’s will is if it violates a specific command or a word of direction the Spirit spoke to us. Thus, we can always ask in confidence knowing, “what we want” is what we get.

 Faith isn’t waiting around for special days or moods; it’s grabbing hold of the promises now, because Jesus is already interceding with all the good stuff He pledged. Think about it: if the early church got tangled in Jewish Sabbaths thinking it helped their standing, aren’t we doing the same with Christmas carols and advent wreaths? It’s like showing up to a feast with your own sack lunch—you miss the bounty because you’re stuck on shadows. And let’s be frank, if your faith needs twinkly lights to sparkle, maybe it’s time to check if the power’s even plugged in. Imagine trading divine Wi-Fi for a holiday dial-up connection—talk about a spiritual lag!

Shadow religion veils the intellectual, spiritual core of Christianity. It’s empiricism in pious drag, basing faith on feelings and festivities rather than revelation. But Jesus’ high priestly role means constant access—no calendar needed. If we’re born from above, we’re insiders in the Father’s house, with rooms prepared. If your Christmas ham tastes better than the bread of life, you’ve got your feasts mixed up. That’s like preferring MRE meal to a gourmet banquet from the King.

Let’s ditch the veils and live in the full benefits that Christ already won for us—bold, direct access, and miracle-ready. To drive it home, consider the ethical fallout: shadow religion dishonors Christ’s sufficiency. As sons, we’re co-heirs with eternal rooms prepared (John 14:2-3), yet holidays suggest that calendars somehow help us sit closer to Jesus in the heavenly places. However, miracles aren’t holiday perks; they’re gospel proofs. If you tie them to Christmas, you’re unbelieving the very good news that sets us free. If you think miracles happen more around Christmas than from a daily prayer spoken in faith, then maybe check who’s really guiding your sled—your flesh or faith? Santa’s list might be naughty or nice, but God’s access is always “yes” in Christ—no reindeer required.

This delusion of seasonal surges stems from defective anthropology, viewing man as sense-bound rather than Spirit-led and word-based. The gospel tells us we are redeemed, righteous, headed to glory, designed for miracles now. Calendars chain us to the old man; faith unleashes the new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). Feeling closer via festivities? That’s flesh talking, empirical highs mimicking intimacy. Do you feel distant? That is the chill of a religious shadow, exposing your drift from reality. The cure? Deductive faith in Scripture: Jesus’ finished atonement and our current reality seated with Him means miracles come through faith, not calendar dates.

The Vileness Of Cross-Centered Theology

Oshea Davis

You know, it’s almost comical how some folks wear “cross-centered” like a badge of spiritual humility, as if staring endlessly at Calvary’s bloodied hill makes them the real deal—authentic, raw, untouched by the glitz of glory. But flip through the New Testament, and you’ll see the apostles weren’t playing that game. No, they were throne-centered to the core, laser-focused on Jesus exalted, enthroned at the Father’s right hand, wielding authority that crushes enemies and empowers His people. And if there’s one Old Testament verse that screams this truth louder than any other, it’s Psalm 110:1: “The Lord says to my Lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.'” This isn’t some obscure poetic flourish—it’s the heavyweight champion of OT quotes in the NT, referenced or alluded to over two dozen times. That’s more than any other verse from the Hebrew Scriptures, a fact that ought to make us pause and ask why the inspired writers couldn’t get enough of it.

Consider the sheer volume: Jesus Himself quotes it in Matthew 22:44, Mark 12:36, and Luke 20:42-43 to stump the Pharisees on the Messiah’s identity. Peter blasts it out in his Pentecost sermon (Acts 2:34-35), tying Jesus’ resurrection directly to this enthronement, and the present reality of the baptism of the Spirit for power. Paul echoes it in 1 Corinthians 15:25 and Ephesians 1:20, emphasizing Christ’s dominion over all powers. And Hebrews? That book’s practically a love letter to Psalm 110, quoting verse 1 in 1:13 and weaving its themes throughout chapters 1, 5, 7, 8, and 10 to hammer home Jesus as the eternal Priest-King. Allusions pop up everywhere else—Romans 8:34, Colossians 3:1, Hebrews 12:2—painting a picture not of a perpetually suffering Savior but of a victorious Lord reigning now, subduing foes under His feet. If the NT writers were scripting a highlight reel, they’d skip the slow-motion cross scenes and cut straight to the throne room coronation. Why? Because that’s where the action is—the present reality that defines everything from salvation to spiritual warfare.

The most quoted verse is not Isaiah 53, concerning of the suffering servant. No. The most quoted passage is about the enthroned Jesus, ruling, empowering the saints with the Spirit’s baptism and enemies being subdued under Him. This was the greatest focus of the NT writers, and it will also be ours.

This throne obsession flips the script on what it means to be gospel-centered. Too many today think humility demands a perpetual gaze at the cross, as if fixating on our sins and Jesus’ suffering keeps us grounded, preventing some imagined drift into arrogance. But that’s a subtle trap, isn’t it? It turns the gospel into a somber memorial service rather than a triumphant declaration of regime change. The cross was the battle won, the atonement secured, but the throne is the victory applied—the ongoing rule where Jesus pours out the Spirit, answers prayers, and expands His kingdom through us.

To be truly Christ-centered is to lock eyes on the exalted Christ, the one Hebrews 1:3 describes as “sustaining all things by his powerful word” after purifying us from sins. Sure, we remember the cross—Jesus commanded it in the Lord’s Supper—but that very command assumes we’re not stuck there. Why tell someone to “remember” something if they’re already obsessing over it? No, the presupposition is that our default posture is throne-focused, living in the reality of His reign, occasionally glancing back to marvel at the love that got us here. It’s like a king reminding his heirs of the war that won the crown; they don’t relive the battlefield daily—they rule from the palace, grateful, but forward-focused.

Take Peter’s Pentecost powerhouse in Acts 2. He doesn’t linger on the crucifixion details, though they’re fresh wounds. Instead, he rockets to the throne: “God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of it. 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” (Acts 2:32-33). Boom—resurrection leads straight to enthronement, which unleashes the Spirit’s power. No wonder the crowd’s cut to the heart; they’re not just hearing about forgiveness but about a King who’s actively dismantling Satan’s hold, starting with tongues of fire and miracles galore. If Peter were cross-centered in the modern sense, he’d have camped out on guilt and repentance alone. But he’s throne-centered, so the application is power—baptism in the Spirit for all whom the Lord calls, no expiration date.

This echoes what I’ve written before about the disciplined son in the Father’s house: even in correction, we’re not exiled beggars but insiders sitting inside the Father’s palace, waiting in our room while the Father prepares greater things. Discipline stings, but the throne room door stays open, grace flowing unhindered.

Hebrews takes this even further, using Psalm 110 to redefine our entire approach to God. In chapter 1, it quotes verse 1 to prove Jesus’ superiority over angels: “To which of the angels did God ever say, ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet’?” (Hebrews 1:13). The point? Jesus isn’t just a messenger—He’s the enthroned Son, heir of all things. By chapter 10, this throne reality empowers us to “draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings” (10:22), holding unswervingly to hope because He’s faithful. No cowering in false humility; we’re commanded to storm the throne boldly for mercy and help (4:16).

Frankly, this throne-centered vibe exposes the poverty of cross-centered theology. It’s like celebrating a wedding by fixating on the proposal—sweet, but missing the marriage feast. Jesus’ command to remember His body and blood during communion presupposes we’re feasting in the kingdom now, not starving in perpetual Lent. If we’re already cross-fixated, why the reminder? No, it’s because our eyes are meant for the horizon, the exalted King who intercedes for us (Romans 8:34), making our prayers as potent as His. Paul in Ephesians 1:19-23 prays we’d grasp the “incomparably great power for us who believe”—the same power that raised Christ to the throne, putting everything under His feet for the church’s benefit. That’s not humble pie; that’s dominion delegated, enemies footstooled.

Take that tired trope: “For every look at your sin, take ten looks at the cross.” Sounds pious, right? But it’s a faith-killer in disguise, pumping unbelief like steroids. Sure, recall the atonement—it’s foundational—but fixating there keeps you sin-conscious, not righteousness-aware. Hebrews 10:2 slams perpetual guilt: once purged, no more sin-consciousness. Instead, 1 John 3:2-3 ties purification to throne-vision: “We know that when He appears, we shall be like Him… Everyone who has this hope in Him purifies himself, just as He is pure.” See yourself already enthroned with Christ (Ephesians 2:6), not perpetually crucified. That’s what scrubs the soul clean—not rubbernecking at a roman torture rack. Cross-gazers barely believe they’re forgiven, let alone righteous. They see a bloody mess, not a crowned King. But throne-gazers? They behold the Victor at the Father’s right hand, mirroring His purity by faith. No wonder they strut boldly for help (Hebrews 4:16)—they know their spot’s secure.

Romans 4 seals it: justification isn’t just cross-won; it’s resurrection-sealed. “He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification” (Romans 4:25). The cross paid the debt, but the throne declares us as the very righteousness of God. Without resurrection to the right hand, no vindication of righteousness—no proof the atonement stuck. Abraham’s faith credited righteousness pre-cross (Romans 4:3), but Jesus’ rising to the throne, enthrones it for us. Cross-only folks limp with half a gospel, doubting they truly are the very righteousness of God. Their constant reminder of the sins makes it hard to believe themselves as God’s righteousness. They see nails, not the empty tomb’s triumph. But resurrection-gazers? They know: if Christ reigns, we’re co-heirs—righteous, pure, empowered, dominated by grace and unstoppable. Unbelief keeps the faithless cross-bound; but faith catapults Christians throne-ward, purified as He is.

The gospel is total salvation, making us clean, righteous, co-heirs with Christ, empowered to judge the world and angels. All things are ours because Jesus defines reality from the throne. To downplay this is to peddle unbelief, staining hands with the blood of those who could’ve thrived but settled for scraps. But for us? We’re sons in the Father’s house, rooms prepared. Even in besetting struggles, we draw from Christ’s continuing growth in us, eyes fixed on the Champion who authors faith from His seat of power. Our eyes are not fixed on Jesus on the cross, but as Hebrews says, on the Jesus the author of or faith, who is sitting on the throne. Anything less? Well, that’s just spiritual slumming when you’ve got palace keys.

So, if Psalm 110:1 reigns supreme in NT citations, it’s because the apostles got it: the gospel’s climax isn’t the empty tomb—it’s the occupied throne. Cross-centered? That’s the doorway for newbies to enter. Throne-centered? That’s full armor, advancing the kingdom with miracles, healings, and unshakeable faith. Remember the atonement, yes—but live with your eye locked on the present ruling Jesus, where He lives, and pours out power, and answered prayers. To focus on a cross is to focus where Jesus is not. To focus on the throne, is to meet the very eyes of Jesus looking back at you. Maybe that’s why the faithless remain cross-focus, because they can’t bear the living Jesus locking eyes with them, less their unbelief gets exposed. But for us who are the righteousness of God, we love to lock eyes with Jesus.  And when you see His eyes turn to lock back on you, you will hear Him say, “Ask anything in my name and you will have it.”

Welcome to the gospel. The real one. Not the one with a cross as the symbol.
But the one with a crown

The Gospel Is Jesus Sitting on a Throne

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

The Age of Abraham’s Blessing

“What I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”
(Acts 3:6 NIV.)

Why do you stare at us as if by our own power or godliness we had made this man walk? (v.12)

Indeed, beginning with Samuel, all the prophets who have spoken have foretold these days… He said to Abraham, ‘Through your offspring all peoples on earth will be blessed.” (v.24-25).

The first statement from Peter would get you kicked out of most churches. God’s power healed the cripple. This is the context. Peter didn’t say, “What Jesus has, Jesus gives to you,” or “what Jesus has, I give it to you.” No. Peter said, “What I have, I give to you.”

Peter did affirm the ultimate level of reality by saying, this was not our godliness or power. This is like saying, “when I shot the man who was trying to kill me, the gun and the bullet is not my power. It wasn’t my power that blew a hole through his chest.”

The power is God’s, but God gave the power to Peter and Peter pulled the trigger by saying, “in the Name of Jesus, walk.”

How does Peter have this power? Do we have it?

The power is the Spirit and the authority is the access to use Jesus Name. Jesus said, “if I cast out demons by the Spirit of God.” And so, it was the Spirit’s power not Jesus’ power, when He was healing and casting out demons. In John 14:10 Jesus also says, the Father does His works, referring to the miracles Jesus was doing. Thus, Jesus was not doing miracles by Jesus’ power, but the Spirit’s power. The power of the Spirit, Jesus gives to us, as Peter argues in Acts chapter 2. It was promised by the Father, and Jesus sitting at God’s right hand ensures the Spirit of power is poured out on all those God calls to Himself.  Jesus said, referring to the Spirit, that life giving waters will flow out of our inner man. The authority is given to us to use Jesus’ name to ask for whatever we want. Jesus says this 4 to 5 times in John 14-16.

Our identity in Jesus, as Peter says, means we are a royal priesthood. We are not just sub-heirs with Jesus, but co-heirs with Him. We are called children of God. Paul says in Ephesians that all blessings have already been given to us, and that we are already seated in the heavenly places with Jesus, above all names, times and authorities. All of this means we have divine, heavenly and royal authority. The gifts and callings of God are irrevocable.

Also, as purchased gifts we have power and authority. The power of the Spirit is a promise of the Father to Jesus, to give to us, upon His resurrection. It is part of the finished atonement and resurrection of Jesus. The authority to use Jesus’ Name is our definition for having our identity in Jesus. Water baptism means we are raised in new life, with Jesus, as part of Jesus. This new identity includes having the definition to wield Jesus’ name to ask for whatever we want.

What is interesting about this, is that it has nothing to do with apostles. It is centered on the finished work of Jesus and His current position of ruling from the Power’s right hand.

Peter makes a last reference to Abraham. The context is why the man was healed in the Name and power of Jesus, and how Peter did it, and how the man received it by faith in Jesus. Peter’s last point to explain all of this was Abraham and God’s promise to bless all people through his offspring. Think about that. According to Peter, the ability to use Jesus Name, and power to heal, is based on the blessing of Abraham. This blessing, as Peter also says, means forgiveness and salvation. But our point of interest in the context of Peter explaining the healing to the authorities.

It was not as if Abraham is so important, but that God made a promise. Abraham was asleep. It was all God. God gave a promise to bless Abraham with fame, favor, healing, supernatural healing, wealth, victories and etc, and to do the same with his children, and by this bless the whole world. Paul argues in Galatians 3, that the atonement of Jesus did not replace Abraham’s blessing, but Jesus’ crucifixion grafts us into this blessing. Jesus took on our curses and in substitutionary exchange gave us the blessing of Abraham. Paul also sums up this gospel as the “Spirit and miracles,” which is received by faith in Jesus. Paul says the power of the Spirit for miracles is part of Abraham’s blessing, and Peter sums up the access to use Jesus’ Name to heal as part of Abraham’s blessing.

Acts opens of with Jesus’ command to receive power by the baptism of the Spirit. The first miracle is Peter claiming to have Jesus’ authority. Rather than saying it was a gift of the Spirit, Peter says it was faith in Jesus that caused the healing. Thus, the first miracle was performed by normal discipleship faith. Peter knew his identity and authority in Jesus. He knew about the privilege and command to use Jesus’ name to heal the sick and cast out demons. He then used it. Peter then says this is part of Abraham’s blessing.

Why is this important. It is important because we have the same blessing of Abraham. The blessing of Abraham is not one thing for one person and something different for another. The only real factor is faith. Your faith determines how much you can extract out of your blessing in Abraham. This is why Paul rebuked the Galatians. Their faith in Jesus, giving them access to Abraham’s blessing, extracted miracles for them. But now they want to abandon faith for works. A relationship of works will stop the miracles that came to the Galatians, from being grafted into Abraham’s blessing.

Lastly, remember again, this has nothing to do with apostles. It is about God and how faithful, true and awesome He is in keeping promises. God made a very old promise, and after all these years, He still keeps His promise. And so, if you hear someone say, “but the book of Acts, is about the apostles; the miracles are only for them; the miracles stopped with them,” then you understand how dumb and perverted they are.

“So, the Book of Acts isn’t just a highlight reel for the apostles. No siree, it’s the kickoff for the “Age of Abraham’s Kids Doing Cool Stuff.” It’s not about how special the apostles were; it’s about how faithful God is. He made a promise to Abe, and centuries later, He’s still like, “Yeah, I got you.”

In short, if you believe in Jesus, you’re not just saved; you’re also signed up for the spiritual sequel where you get to do the stuff. The power’s there, the name’s yours to use, and the only limit? Your faith. So, go out there and make some divine mischief in the name of Jesus, because according to Peter, it’s all part of the family business!”[1]

The book of Acts, is not the age of the apostles. It is not about the apostles. The book of Acts is about the Acts of Abraham’s children. It is the Age of Abraham’s blessing. It is the Age of the power of the Spirit and authority of Jesus Christ spoken by the lips of His children. The book of Acts is the age of faith and power, in the Name of Jesus Christ.

“Get up and Walk!”

[1] Grok AI, fun mode 2024, summary of this essay.

This Is Where Our Eyes Meet


Jesus said to him, “You have said it. But I tell you, from now on you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.”
(Matt. 26:64 LEB)

And Stephen said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!”
(Acts 7:56 LEB)

I remember seeing a Korean manhwa (anime cartoon) called Noblesse. The Noblesse was a loner character who kept bad vampires in check, by destroying them. In the first main showdown the Noblesse would not look at the villain in the eye, when they were face to face. This infuriated the villain. The Noblesse, then used his power to force the bad guy into a kneeling position. Now, when their eyes met, from the position of the villain looking up and the Noblesse looking down, he said, “this is where our eyes meet.”

The Noblesse, makes the villain look up to him in defeat, mirroring how Jesus will flip the script on His adversaries. When Jesus talks about coming on the clouds, He’s not planning a peaceful parade; He’s promising a divine showdown. Think less “slice-of-life” genres and more “apocalypse horror.”

This is like what is happening in the above passages. The high priest in a position of authority, forces Jesus to answer the question if He is the messiah. Jesus answers by confirming that He is the messiah. Jesus follows this up with a threat. He says, from now on, you will see Me at the right hand of the power, and coming in the clouds of glory. This is both a statement of reality and a threat. Right now, in the position of a man born under the law, and under the authority of the high priest He is forced to answer his question. But Jesus says, from now on forward, the roles will be flipped. I will be in the position of authority, looking down on you. Jesus has a mic-drop moment with the high priest, essentially saying, “You’re the boss now, but wait till you see Me in My final form!” He’s not just the humble carpenter; He’s hinting at His gig as the cosmic judge, riding on clouds like a divine superhero.

The Old Testament quote of “coming on the clouds of glory,” is about God’s judgments. It is apocalyptic language that describes God destroying His enemies. (see Deut. 33:26, Isaiah 19:1, Isaiah 34:4-6, Isaiah 13:5–10 Daniel 7:13-14) It is symbolic language describing real acts of God’s horrific judgments. It is not symbolic language to describe invisible spiritual or more symbolic things, but historic acts of God’s judgement. The first mention of this apocalyptic language is the Exodus story and God’s destruction of Egypt. God did not literally ride the clouds, like a Sky Rider, but God did bring in darkness, sickness, storms, frogs and a real angel came and killed all the first born of Egypt.  Jesus in Matthew 24 quotes Isaiah 13, 34, and Daniel 7 as a packaged deal that belongs to Him. He rides the clouds. He will bring judgement. He will be the one bringing the plagues of Egypt on His enemies.

Thus, when Jesus says that not only, will His and the high priest’s positions change, but also defines Himself with the Old Testament apocalyptic language, it is a full on threat.  Jesus is saying, I will be in authority, the next time our eyes meet, but I am also judgment.  He is saying, My authority will not be used for your salvation, but destruction. From now on, when our eyes meet, you will be kneeling looking up, and I will be looking down on you, with a sword in My hand. This is where our eyes will meet.

This will help us understand why Stephen was asking Jesus not to hold their murder of him, against them. Stephen, right before becoming the first Christian martyr, has a vision. He sees Jesus not as the guy who walked on water, but as the celestial commander in chief, standing (not even sitting!) at God’s right hand. It’s like Jesus went from indie band lead, at the corner café, to the headliner at the universe’s biggest rock concert. Stephen saw Jesus in all authority and power, at the right hand of the Power. Jesus is not the humbled man that we all read about in the gospel. He is now in all authority and power. From His position of power He works in the saints to advance the Kingdom of God on earth. He is in a position of military power. He is a ruling king who is currently in a military campaign. He is the King who rides the skies to bring destruction on His enemies. This is His current status.

Thus, when Jesus is looking down on the murder of Stephen, He is a King, in a current military campaign, watching His enemies killing His soldier. Any normal King would bring down fast destruction. In 70 AD, in the destruction of Jerusalem, King Jesus did just that. This is why Stephen is crying out for Jesus to hold back, because Jesus’ position is the current Sky Rider.  Stephen knows Jesus’ position and so is asking for more time for the church to try and bring the Jews to repentance and faith. He’s basically asking Jesus, “Hold off on the divine wrath, okay? Give us a bit more time to win some souls.” He knows Jesus isn’t just chilling up there; He’s actively directing the celestial troops.

Jesus was correct. The next time His enemies saw His eyes, they were kneeling in terror, and He was Riding across the Sky in the destruction of Jerusalem.

Let us not forget that this is the same Jesus we pray to everyday. It is this same Jesus, who is still sitting at the right hand of Power. He is still in a military campaign to advance the kingdom of God, through the church by preaching, baptism of the Spirit, healing, casting out demons and resurrecting the dead. Sometimes it is good to repeat Stephen’s prayer for more time, and other times it is good to ask king Jesus to mount up and ride the skies

Jesus isn’t just the gentle shepherd; He’s also the king with a sword, ready to ride the clouds into battle. So next time you pray, remember, you’re talking to the Cloud-Rider, the Sky King, and He is ready to bring the thunder! He is so ready, that Stephen pleaded with Him to hold back.

[1] Used Grok AI 2024, to help me with some of the witty summaries.

The Gospel Is The Baptism Of The Spirit For Miracles

If Jesus sitting on the throne is the foundation eschatology, and His commands for power still stand, then applied eschatology for Christians is baptism in the Spirit, faith and miracles.

“Always remember that Jesus Christ,
a descendant of King David, was raised from the dead.
This is the Good News (GOSPEL) I preach,”
 2 Timothy 2:8 (NLT).

Tradition and men have a tendency to limit God, man and the gospel. In this case they limit Jesus’ nature, His position of authority and glorification of man in the gospel. Imputed righteousness and being declared righteous is an awesome doctrine, but there is more that the bible defines that belongs to “good news,” than a few narrowly selected pet doctrines. Men are habitually and systematically man-centered, and this leads to limiting God, His gospel and the elect. This happens because their worldview, despite having many scriptural terms, starts with themselves. They see the world from their limited human experience and then force God, the gospel and the elect into this limitation. We know who they serve.

Paul teaches in this passage that the gospel includes that Jesus was raised from the dead “as a descendant of King David.” This refers to the promise God made to “King” David about a descendant that will come from him. There are two aspects of this promised person. One, he will be the saving Messiah. The second, is that He will be a “King” on a throne, ruling in power and authority.

This descendant of King David, according to Paul, is connected to the fact that Jesus was raised. When you and I are resurrected, it is not necessarily connected to us sitting at God’s right hand as King and Judge over all things as what is inherit in us; however, this is precisely what it means for Jesus. Because we are connected to Jesus as part of His body, by God’s decision, then we share in His power and authority. Not as the head, but we do indeed share in what Jesus’ experienced. We are not just sub-heirs, but co-heirs. Jesus judges in authority, and likewise we will also one day judge angels, etc. The point is that what happens to Jesus in resurrection, also happens to us. For example, Paul argues in 1 Corinthians 15 because Jesus had bodily resurrection, we to will have a bodily resurrection.

Jesus is raised as the promised King, from King David, who sits on a throne of power. That is, Jesus’ resurrection by the Father from the grave, cannot be disconnected from the fact that His rising is a rising to sit on a throne. The doctrine of Jesus rising from the grave is the same thing as His rising to sit at the right hand of the Power, because the two cannot logically be separated. One cannot separate Jesus’ resurrection from His sitting on the throne as a King. Jesus raised from the grave is not to some nebulous place in the clouds. We are told and know where He was raised to. He was raised to the right hand of the Power. This doctrine for Paul, is “the gospel he preached.”

Also note, this is Paul to Timothy. Furthermore, this is the gospel Paul preached to the gentiles; thus, is not a specific doctrine for Jews or something like that.

Peter, in the first recorded apostolic gospel sermon, harps on this aspect of Jesus being King David’s descendant, who was raised to the position of throne power and authority. Peter devoted a good amount of space to make this point about Jesus. 

Peter sums up Jesus’ rising as the seated King from David as,

“both messiah and King.”

Thus, this promised descendant from David, according to Peter includes both the “saving Messiah” and “King” aspect to it. The resurrection is part of the gospel, most would admit, but the resurrection cannot be separated from that fact that it is a resurrection as a King to a throne. This last part of the gospel is the focus of eschatology, as it pertains to this side of eternity and Jesus ruling. This power the Father “worked in Christ, raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavenly places,  above all rule and authority and power and lordship and every name named, not only in this age but also in the coming one, and he subjected all things under his feet,” Ephesians 1:20-22. Again, Peter does not separate the saving and Throne aspect of Jesus Christ as the risen descendant of David. It was the gospel Paul preached and it was also the gospel Peter preached. The promise included both, and thus cannot be separated by theologians without blaspheme.

Peter then makes connection to the baptism of the Holy Spirit. His argument is this. Jesus as the descendant from King David, was raised to the right hand of God. What does Jesus do, sitting at the right hand of the Power?  Peter argues that in His position of power, has poured out power on His chosen ones, through the baptism of the Spirit. What does this newly seated King do with His position of Power? Well, He starts to empower His people. What will this seated descendant King of David do with all this authority and power? Peter’s answer is this: He gives us His power and authority so that we can overcome the world and spread His kingdom to every corner. Jesus gives us power to cast out demons, to heal the sick, and make mountains obey us. This is what Jesus does with power.

Thus, to say, “the gospel is the baptism of the Spirit, for speaking in tongues, casting out demons and healing the sick,” is true and should have no resistance. Jesus had to be cut up into a bloody pulp, under the Father’s wrath, and then resurrected to the right hand of Power, in order to have a contractual right to pour out the Spirit for power.  Thus the gospel is the baptism of the Spirit for miracle power; the gospel includes more, but not less than this. It is no less the gospel than the forgiveness of sins, because both are produced by the same thing, which is the blood, death and resurrection of Jesus to the right hand of the Power. To be against the statement, “The gospel is the baptism of Spirit for miracles,” is to trample the blood, death and resurrection of Jesus to God’s right hand.  To be against the baptism of the Spirit for speaking in tongues and power, is to be against the blood, death and resurrection authority of Jesus Christ. To be against the baptism of the Spirit for miracles, is to mock how the reigning Jesus Christ uses His authority from the right hand of the Power.

Paul said if you deny the resurrection then your faith is destroyed, and your hope is vain. However, there are more subtle ways to deny the resurrection rather than doing it directly. In the logic of Modus Ponens it would be resurrection as the antecedent and the manifestation and effects and application of resurrection would be the consequent. But the logic of Modus Tollens is also valid. If you deny the consequent, then you deny the antecedent. If you deny the baptism of the Spirit for miracles and speaking tongues, then you deny the resurrection of Jesus to God’s right hand.

Men and tradition, who use many scriptural terms, mock the gospel continually. You need to remove such a faithless mocker from your life. They spit on the blood of Jesus, trample on His death and make a mockery of His decisions made from His position of authority. Do not even eat or wash your hands with such people. Instead, honor the decisions that Jesus made, as He sits in all authority, at the Father’s right hand. We must seek to be baptized by the Spirit and to be constantly growing in Spiritual power for miracles and spiritual physics. The Spirit will become your personal instructor, as if Jesus Himself were right there with you, giving you instruction. The baseline spiritual power, as recorded in Acts that all get for being baptized, is speaking in tongues for inward edification (1 Corin 14:4,18). If you must start, then start there, and then seek more than more power. I have heard many ministries say they started after they first had a season of increased speaking in tongues. This gift is a spiritual gateway to other spiritual gifts. In my experience this gift is not utilized as it ought, and many have paid harsh price for its neglecting. And if you don’t care about yourself, then have some compassion and care for others and God’s kingdom expanding. Praying in tongues will help you have power to expand God’s kingdom.