Our Differences with the Prosperity Gospel (Edited with ChatGPT)

 I often sing a gospel song that declares, “Who can stand against me, as I am God’s own?”—and I believe it with all my heart. I know I belong to a superior power and government: the government of heaven, the highest mountain over all mountains. I even pray that the Lord will make me the head in areas where I have been the tail. When I need financial provision, I simply remind God to find the river that will flow in my desert.

 

I do not cry for hours about such things, like those enslaved by prosperity teachings in the house of the Lord. I do not wander from church to church with my checkbook in search of prophets. I just ask, like a beloved child, trusting that my Father hears me — just as my own boys and girls demand clothes or toys. If my kids say, “I need a bike,” they just say it plainly. That is how I speak to God. I know He listens, and I do not have to shout for hours to form a performance of prayer or appear especially pious. Yet still, the prosperity gospel is lukewarm water in my mouth — it makes me sick. It is not good for my spiritual health.

 

God has never disappointed me. He has not given me everything I have asked for, but He has given me what I needed — and often more than I asked. Even when He picked up the rod to discipline me, like any good parent, He was cooking my meal at the same time — so I would have food and shelter after the correction.

 

The first difference between us and the fools of prosperity and the slaves of materialism is this: for me, God is a Father raising me into His likeness. He is not a treasurer assigned to fulfill my every whim and spoil me into cluelessness. God’s role is not to pamper a bratty prince or princess, but to raise children in His image. Whatever I ask that aligns with His will, He gives—but His will must support it. And His will is not to spoil me into the image of the devil, but to shape me into His own. I know His will is good for me, though that does not mean it exists to serve my will. Honestly, it is laughable that I even have to say this — and some still will not get it.

 

God did not give me everything I wanted, but He also never limited His gifts to only what I asked for. He gave me what I truly needed — whether I asked or not. What I may have wanted was coke and cookies, but He did not feed me sugar just because I cried for it. Sometimes He sent me to school, even though I preferred cartoons. He asked me to clean the house, though I wanted to go play. Yet in all of it, I knew He had my best interest in mind — though I did not always recognize it in the moment. In the end, I am confident that all things will work for my good.

 

The second difference lies in the structure of our prayers — specifically, the footnote and the main body. My main prayers have never been centered on food, clothes, money, power, or respect. I trust that God already has my best interests at heart. Instead, I focus my prayers on areas and people where God’s presence is weak — where I know He listens to me more than He might to the prayers of those who have gone astray. I intercede for the lost assemblies of God, the fallen politicians, the lost souls, the nation, and even the economy — because they are in rebellion, and I know God is less likely to heed them directly. Then, as a footnote, a small reminder, I tell Him about my own needs. I have His ear and eye, and I use that line to heaven wisely. I do not need to cry every hour for bread — I have a Father. I am not a street child without a home. That is why I cry for the street children: the lost assemblies rebelling against God, the once-faithful turning away, the leaders in disarray, and our collective welfare collapsing.

 

In contrast, prosperity gospel believers pray around the clock for themselves. “Give me a car, give me a house, give me this and that too.” Is God deaf that He needs constant reminders about our desires for wealth, power, and respect? But there is a deeper, darker danger. The worst crime of the prosperity gospel is not its obsession with wealth — it is that, in the pursuit of money, power, and status, it destroys the faith itself.

In my walk, my personal welfare is a footnote. My speech, life, thoughts, and actions are centered on the kingdom of God. What I eat spiritually shapes me — and it shows in how I live. If the transformation is not always dramatic, it is not because the food is bad — it is because I was in bad shape to begin with. My personal blessings are like dessert at the end of a rich, balanced meal. My body is nourished not by sugar and cream, but by the blood and flesh of the Lord — the protein, vitamins, and minerals of heaven. I enjoy dessert, but my health does not depend on it. Even when dessert is missing, I still enjoy the main meal. My faith is rooted not in sweet treats, but in the sustaining meal from heaven. That is why I do not grow toward my guilty pleasures, even though I may enjoy them now and then — I grow, however slowly, toward the image of the Lord.

 

Prosperity gospel, however, feeds people nothing but their guilty pleasures. Their spiritual diet is entirely sugar. After church, they do not see themselves in Scripture — because the Bible is our mirror to help us become like Jesus. Instead, they feed the beast within, becoming more earthly than ever. Health, wealth, power, and status dominate their thoughts — as if they were listening to gangster rap in the streets — declared as the “will of God.” And so, they chase after the world, nonstop. But what they feed on is not the blood and flesh of Christ, which gives eternal life — it is the sugary dessert of the earth. And this world, while sweet to taste, is ultimately deadly.

 

What is the Sabbath rest of God, after all? It is the day when the people of Israel were commanded to stop everything — no work, no cooking, no production — to focus on the temple and on fellowship. The first and second greatest commandments were elevated on this day: love of God and love of neighbor. Jesus turned every day into a Sabbath by sending His Spirit to lead us into all godliness — every hour, every day. We do not chase after the earth; we are drawn to heaven. We work smart, not hard, because we carry the magnet that draws the earth — God Himself. But prosperity gospel removes God from the picture to give us the earth instead. It takes away our Sabbath rest. It sells us food that does not last in place of the eternal nourishment freely given to us. That is why it is a grave sin. And the results speak for themselves. The damaged souls it produces testify to its failure. Yes, they tell me there are wealthy Nigerian pastors in the midst of widespread poverty. I would rather see rich people sharing with their pastors — not pastors growing fat while the people starve. That is not prosperity. That is robbery.

 

Because sermons today are filled 24/7 with teachings about how to gain money, power, and respect, faith, holiness, and heavenly ways are becoming secondary. Our concern is no longer about the quality of faith or the excellence of our spiritual walk — it is about us. Our power. Our money. Our respect. But I tell you the truth: Paul could have had power, money, and status — but he chose the cross. Many saints chose poverty, weakness, and disgrace so that we might receive strength. And yet, here we are — ready to trade the purity of faith for prosperity. This selfish gospel, designed and promoted by prosperity preachers, is not of God.

 

Even the way we run our assemblies contributes to the problem. Churches have become resource-oriented rather than people-oriented. Imagine you are running a ministry with dozens of staff, massive weekly expenses, and families to support — it becomes hard to walk by pure faith unless that faith was established in you long ago. Weak faith coupled with high financial demands is a trap. And it traps the faithful.

 

A true servant serves their Master. Our Master is God. When we work, we should not seek approval from human eyes. Should a shepherd follow the whims of the sheep while ignoring the art of shepherding? No. Our eyes should be fixed on heaven, seeking God’s approval — whether people approve or not. Yes, it is nice when people support us, but what matters is that God approves. With real faith, we will not be swayed by the desires of businesspeople or sponsors. Money is not our God. And Jesus will ensure we have what we need at the right time. But when you have poor faith, buildings worth hundreds of millions, and services that cost millions to maintain, it becomes very difficult to walk like Jesus. Yet we are not merely flesh and blood. We must walk by faith in the God who has never let us down — if only we truly trust Him.

 

Beyond structural issues, there is a deep theological gap. Our understanding of God has been shaped by reactive theology — a theology designed to appease this age. Earthly people question suffering and failure, forgetting that this earth is not paradise but prison. In response, we try to “defend” God by dressing Him up in earthly cosmetics, turning Him into a popular idol instead of the holy Lord. We paint Him with the abominations of this world, claiming sickness is from the devil and health from God, poverty from the devil and wealth from God, suffering from the devil and happiness from God. But this reflects a consumer culture that treats God like a butler and the devil as the obstacle to our comfort.

 

We are soldiers in training — stationed in the devil’s domain. Like military cadets, we must suffer for a cause, endure hardship, and develop spiritual toughness. Sometimes what we need is suffering — because suffering builds character. But our theology no longer sees God as a Father raising His children in prison; it sees Him as a pampering father focused only on spoiling His kids. No wonder we are producing spiritual brats — lovers of power, money, and respect who look nothing like Jesus. These are not children of God — they are bastard children of the devil living in God’s house.

 

God can send us to prison — for a cause. Maybe someone there needs to hear His word. He can make us sick — for a purpose. Maybe He wants us to hate sickness and dedicate our lives to healing others. Our lives as believers are not about serving ourselves but serving the kingdom of God. If God could ask Jesus to die for us, He can ask anything of us. You are not better than Jesus. Suffering for the sake of God's purpose is not a tragedy — it is holy. Unlike pointless suffering in monasteries without understanding, suffering for the cause of God — like Jesus dying on the cross — bears eternal fruit.

 

What is the end of our diverging paths? The prosperity gospel produces people who worship money, power, and respect, and who want a servant-God in exchange for their tithe. Faith becomes conditional on health and wealth. Morality is sacrificed for success. Society decays in corruption. Eventually, the devil takes over the assemblies of God — and he will sing “Jesus, Jesus” while leading them to destruction. Their fruit is already visible — and it tastes like wild, bitter wine.

 

But in our path, God comes first. Faith comes first. Service comes first. We are willing to be poor so the next generation may be rich. Willing to be weak so they may be strong. Willing to suffer so they may be healed. It is not that we love poverty, sickness, or weakness, but that our faith is not built on earthly gain. This kind of faith builds a real army — an army the devil cannot overcome. The gates of hell will not prevail.

 

The devil cannot destroy them through poverty, weakness, or disrespect —because they have been trained to withstand such things. In fact, when those things come, their armor is already on. Their shield of faith is raised, their sword — the Word of God — is sharp. The gospel of peace is on their feet. The belt of truth around their waist. The helmet of salvation on their head. The breastplate of righteousness guarding their heart.

 

As trained soldiers, they will disarm the devil and cast him into hell in seconds. That is why the devil tries a different tactic: offering them wealth, power, and status, hoping they will self-destruct. He knows that power can corrupt, money can mislead, and respect can enslave. Ironically, these things come not by chasing them — but by following God alone. Both God and the devil can supply them — but only God gives them without strings.

 

Many faithful people are not destroyed by poverty — but by wealth. Not by disrespect — but by honor. Not by weakness — but by power. Once they taste riches, they will sell their faith for more. Once they enjoy public praise, they will sell Jesus to keep it. Once they taste influence, they will twist Scripture to protect it. That is why Scripture must always be our mirror — to guard us from self-corruption born of wealth, power, and fame.

 

No one who loves this world can truly please God. But those who love God will transform this world — as ambassadors of heaven on earth. Either we shape the earth or the earth shapes us. The children of God are sent to design the world, but the followers of this world are designed by the world. And like every devil that has rebelled against God, they feed on dust — and they become nothing but dust.