Note: This is an article that I wrote today for my church’s newsletter. I thought maybe other folks might want to see what some Christians think about Jesse Duplantis’ excess.
OK, fair warning: I’m climbing on my soapbox. This is an angry sermon that I don’t want to preach from the pulpit, because I know that you all are captive during the service, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t get up and leave if you don’t like what I’m saying. Feel free to stop reading at any time, nobody will know, and my feelings won’t be hurt.
The issue for me, as it so often is, is the naked greed and corruption of those who preach the prosperity gospel. The scope of today’s rant will be limited to Jesse Duplantis and Kenneth Copeland, but what I am talking about could easily be applied to any of a hundred hucksters leading mega-churches based on the idea that God wants us to be rich, and all we need to do to tap into this never ending pile of gold is ‘sow a seed of faith’ and sit back and wait for God to shower us with his abundance.
First of all, my disgust with this particularly gross theology is not necessarily based on its anti-scriptural foundation (although it is not scriptural), nor is it based on the political undertones associated with it (although this is also true). My main beef with the prosperity gospel is the damage it does to the spiritual lives of those who believe it.
Allow me to explain.
As a Presbyterian (and a close reader of the Apostle Paul), I believe that my life as a disciple of Christ is led in response and gratitude for the blessings God has already given me, even before I knew I was a sinner.
The prosperity gospel leads exactly the other direction. The manner in which we live our lives determines the love and blessings God will give us.
The prosperity gospel begins with the assumption that God wants us to be rich, but simply can’t do anything about it until we do our part. It is based on the assertion that a material show of our belief in Jesus will result in material gain for us, and that until we do that, God is helpless to do anything about our situation. After all, if you don’t play the lottery, you can’t win, right?
The prosperity gospel preaches that faith is all about money, success, health, the good life. In short, faith is about me, me, me, me, me. Faith is about me, and my desires, and (here’s the best part) there’s a secret to fulfilling those desires: simply demonstrate how much I love Jesus by giving money to my pastor. It turns faith from service to others toward a self-centered spiritual mentality that has nothing to do with discipleship, humility, shared sacrifice, and community, and everything to do with consumerism, greed, and selfishness.
And this is so very, very seductive. Prosperity preachers tell their congregations that the path to success begins with the offering plate, and the more they give, the more they get. It’s an investment, with guaranteed returns in the hundredfold.
And for those struggling to make ends meet, this is very attractive. Even more so than the lottery (which I also despise), this is a pyramid scheme backed by God, a multi-level marketing business where only the one at the top gets rich, and by the one at the top, I don’t mean Jesus Christ. I mean the grifting pastor in the pulpit.
Let me be clear: Despite the assertions of prosperity preachers, the true message of the Gospel is NOT that Jesus came to earth to make us rich. Jesus came to us in the mystery of God’s grace to save the world. He is not a Daddy Warbucks. He is the Messiah, and there is a difference.
Just for a moment, consider the lives (and deaths) of those closest to Jesus. According to church tradition, Peter (upon whom Jesus built the church!) was crucified upside down by Nero. Andrew was scourged and then crucified, but instead of being nailed to the cross, he was tied to it, in order that his death would take longer. James, son of Zebedee was beheaded by Herod Agrippa. Philip, the first disciple chosen by Jesus, was scourged and crucified. Early bird gets the worm! Bartholomew was skinned alive, then beheaded. Thomas was killed by a spear. I guess that’s what you get for doubting! Thaddeus: crucified. Simon: crucified. The apostle Paul was jailed, beaten, shipwrecked, whipped, and beheaded.
Jesus himself said of his own ministry, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." (Lk. 9:58). Oh, yeah, and then, he was whipped and crucified.
Can’t you just see the common themes that connect today’s prosperity preachers and Jesus Christ? They are so very similar to each other, it’s hard to tell them apart.
So, we have a conundrum. Those who were the very closest to Jesus Christ found that their lives of faith consisted of constant wandering, danger, and horrifying deaths.
Which, in the context of the prosperity gospel, begs the question: What was deficient in their faith? Did they simply not know or understand how they could have made their lives so much easier by giving whatever they had to their pastor? Did they not know the secret to apostolic success was to sow their seed in faith, and sit back and wait for God to overwhelm them with everything they wanted? How stupid were they that they didn’t send their church a love offering, ask for an anointed handkerchief, wave it over their lives and watch the money pour in?
I guess the disciples and early apostles just didn’t get it. I guess that their faith was somehow suspect, their devotion to God was not all that pure, their willingness to give until it hurts wasn’t part of their retirement plan.
Or maybe giving until it hurts meant something entirely different to the early disciples.
Today’s rant is sponsored by Jesse Duplantis, a very funny and engaging preacher (I simply can’t bring myself to call him a pastor) from Louisiana. I’ve watched him several times, and he is a hoot. He is also a heretic. Plain and simple, he is claiming a truth about the gospel that is not only not true, it is designed to personally enrich himself at the expense of the material and spiritual lives of his congregation.
The precipitating reason for my anger today is his recent appeal to his congregation that he needs a new jet for his ministry. His previous three jets, you see, needed to make multiple stops when they travelled around the world. Jesse needs a new jet, a Dassault Falcon 7X, that can circumnavigate the globe with just one stop. In the name of Jesus, of course.
Now, I can’t blame Jesse for wanting that jet. I want it, too. The times that my wife and son and I have travelled to her hometown in Berlin, Germany with 3 or 4 stops (sometimes in Heathrow [shudder]) make me sympathetic to Jesse’s plight. If someone gave me a Falcon 7X, I would not necessarily give it back.
But here’s the deal. It costs 54 million dollars. $54,000,000.
This last week, a man came to our church asking for help, let’s call him Sam (his name is not Sam). He had recently been evicted from public housing due to the fact that he had been unable to pay the rent because he had been going through chemo treatment for his colon cancer.
Wait, it gets worse.
For the last week, he’s been living in his car, taking his medication, which has the unfortunate side effect of incontinence. The bad kind of incontinence. The stinky kind.
He came to the church asking for gas money to get to Lubbock to his doctor, hoping that they will put him in the hospital. How often do we pray that the doctor will put us in the hospital? But, this was his need.
He also asked for a meal so that he could take his medicine without becoming nauseous.
Altogether I spent about 30 dollars on gas and McDonalds to help him.
And Jesse needs a 54 million dollar jet to spread the gospel.
Let’s put that into perspective. In capital costs alone (not fuel, not labor), if Jesse goes and spreads the prosperity gospel (I have in mind an image of the manure spreader I used to use growing up on the farm) every single day in his new jet, 54 million dollars would result in 148,000 YEARS of spreading. When you throw in the costs of actually operating and maintaining this sophisticated aircraft, the price of spreading this spiritual manure climbs exponentially.
Let’s put it another way: Jesse’s jet would pay for almost 2 million people in Sam’s situation. Two million full tanks of gas and a hamburger in order to make it safely to Lubbock in hopes of being admitted to the hospital. We can see why Jesse would choose the jet. Who wants to deal with a hungry old man with poop in his shorts?
I know, I sound just like Judas. “We could have fed the poor with the money spent on that perfume!” To be fair, maybe I should let Jesse himself explain his priorities: “I really believe that if Jesus was physically on the earth today, he wouldn't be riding a donkey.” [Chuckle]
Well, who can argue with that theological insight? It reminds me of the story in the Bible when Jesus entered Jerusalem on a chariot, drawn by eight war stallions, accompanied by legions of Roman Soldiers and and brass band.
No, wait, that was Pilate. My mistake.
Maybe I was thinking of the story of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus, summed up by Jesus when he told his followers, “Yeah, poor people suck, I don’t want to waste my time among them, especially not in economy class. Their stink might get on me.” (A fuller explanation of this parable can be found in Luke 16:19-31)
Now, this might seem a bit harsh until you consider the words of fellow grifter Kenneth Copeland, who justified his purchase of his private jets(!) by reminding us that when traveling with the common folk, “You get in a long tube with a bunch of demons, and it’s deadly.”
Again, I can’t argue with that logic. It reminds me of the time that Jesus went to the area of the Gerasenes and encountered a nutcase among the tombs. Immediately, Jesus recognized the danger he was in, and jumped right back into his Gulfstream 650 horse-drawn carriage, and remarked to his valet, “That was close. These people are deadly,” and rode off to the next stadium filled with gullible folks hoping that if they gave him lots of money, he would cure them. (You can read more about that story in Mark 5:5-20.)
Which brings me to another pet peeve, the question, “What would Jesus do?” The problem with this question is that you can make Jesus do whatever you want him to do. For Jesse and Kenneth, it’s making Jesus forsake a lifetime of ministry among (not to!) the poor, the leper, the outcast, the sick, the prisoner, the lonely, and make him become one of the them, an obscenely wealthy con man, who sucks the money and hope from their congregations; and when their lives don’t improve, when their health doesn’t improve, these fakesters blame it on a lack of faith, or simply not sowing enough seed. When it comes right down to it, Jesse and Kenneth would rather talk about what Jesus would do, than what Jesus actually did.
It’s a con for the ages. In fact, it’s been going on a lot longer than just the last few decades with Creflo Dollar, Jimmy Swaggart, and my personal favorite, the flatulent Robert Tilton (for an hour or so of hilarious entertainment, google “Pastor Gas” and prepare for tears of laughter.)
No, this particular swindle was known even in the time of the Prophet Ezekiel, who warned the preachers and priests who made themselves rich at the expense of their congregations: “Thus says the Lord GOD: Ah, you preachers of the prosperity gospel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You ride in limousines, you clothe yourselves with Armani suits, you travel in private jets; but you do not feed the sheep. Instead, the sheep are feeding you. This is an abomination, and I really hate it.” (This may be slightly paraphrased from the original Hebrew. For a more traditional translation please see Ezekiel 34:2-3).
Anyway, I’m almost done.
The prosperity gospel is attractive. It appeals to our basest instincts. It promises comfort and wealth. There is a reason that the largest churches in most first world countries preach a version of it. It is what we want to hear, and it turns God into an ATM machine - except with this ATM, we put a small deposit in, and we don’t have enough wheelbarrows to carry what comes out. It’s like playing the slots at Vegas, only with a guaranteed payout with every pull of the lever. It’s like investing in the stock exchange, except there is never a bear market, and the forecast is for smooth sailing forever and ever and ever. Who wouldn’t want that? And besides, God promises it. It’s in the Bible! He wants me to be rich!
And if, for some reason, this formula doesn’t work for you personally, you just need to try harder. More faith, more money, more sowing.
Daddy needs a new jet, after all.