Private jets. Multi-million-dollar mansions. Designer wardrobes. Behind the smiles and sermons of America’s prosperity preachers lies a gospel of gold—a doctrine that enriches the few while impoverishing the many. Is this the Christianity of the cross? Or a carefully crafted pyramid scheme dressed in Bible verses?
On a bright Sunday morning in Houston, Texas, tens of thousands stream into the arena-sized sanctuary of Lakewood Church. Joel Osteen, the smiling, impeccably coiffed pastor, ascends the stage to thunderous applause. His sermon is laced with optimism and affluence: “God wants you to prosper! You were born for victory, for abundance, for more than enough!”
Across the country, Kenneth Copeland proclaims from his private airstrip that believers should not fear the price of his ministry’s Gulfstream jet. After all, “Jesus wouldn’t be riding on a donkey today; He’d be flying a plane like mine.” Joyce Meyer, with her signature candor, reassures audiences that her multi-million-dollar homes and luxury cars are simply the fruit of God’s blessing for her faithfulness.
For millions, this is the “good news” they’ve been waiting for. But for those grounded in the historic Reformed faith, this is not the gospel at all. This is a slick counterfeit: a prosperity gospel promising health, wealth, and happiness in exchange for seed offerings and positive declarations.
It is a gospel that cannot save.
A False Promise Wrapped in Gold
At its core, the prosperity gospel teaches that faith is a force, words are containers of power, and God is obligated to reward believers with material wealth and physical health. Its adherents are told that financial success and well-being are their covenant rights as children of God. Poverty, sickness, or suffering? Signs of insufficient faith or unconfessed sin.
But the biblical gospel is far different.
The Apostle Paul, no stranger to suffering, declared: “Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution” (2 Tim. 3:12). Christ Himself promised not earthly riches but a cross: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me” (Matt. 16:24).
Reformed theology rightly understands that the Christian life is marked not by unbroken ease but by sanctification through trial. John Calvin spoke of life as a “perpetual cross,” meant to conform us to Christ. Prosperity preachers, by contrast, peddle a Christless Christianity that elevates man’s desires above God’s will.
Their gospel is not about God’s glory—it’s about our gain.
Follow the Money: Who Benefits?
The fruit of the prosperity gospel is easy to see—in the lifestyles of its preachers.
- Joel Osteen’s Lakewood Church brings in over $90 million annually, while Osteen himself lives in a $10.5 million mansion.
- Kenneth Copeland’s ministry is estimated to be worth over $760 million. Copeland defended his private jet habit in an infamous interview, calling commercial air travel “a long tube with a bunch of demons.”
- Joyce Meyer once justified her $23,000 marble-topped commode by saying it “wasn’t a waste of money because it was for ministry use.”
These leaders have mastered the art of monetizing faith. They persuade struggling believers to send “seed faith” offerings—often their last dollars—while they themselves reap abundant harvests.
One need only look at the endless parade of yachts, jets, mansions, and designer wardrobes to see who truly “prospers.”
Meanwhile, their followers suffer. Many drain savings accounts, rack up credit card debt, and delay necessary medical care believing their breakthrough is just one “faith gift” away. When healing or wealth doesn’t come, they are left not only broke but spiritually broken, often blaming themselves for lacking faith.
Suffering Saints vs. Prosperous Charlatans
Reformed theology teaches that suffering is not a sign of divine displeasure but of sanctification. Consider Job, whom God called “blameless and upright,” yet who lost everything. Or Paul, who endured imprisonment, beatings, and shipwrecks.
Contrast this with the words of Copeland, who once said, “He (Jesus) went to the Cross and bore your poverty so you could be rich.”
But Isaiah 53 tells us Christ bore our griefs and carried our sorrows—not to give us luxury cars, but to reconcile sinners to God. The prosperity gospel twists atonement itself, reducing Christ’s suffering to a transactional down payment on earthly abundance.
This is not merely a doctrinal error—it is blasphemy.
A Gospel That Robs God of His Glory
In the Reformed tradition, the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever (Westminster Shorter Catechism, Q1). But in the prosperity gospel, God is reduced to a cosmic vending machine—insert your faith, pull the lever, and watch blessings pour out.
This theology is not God-centered; it is man-centered. It is not about Christ crucified; it is about cash multiplied.
It strips God of His sovereignty, suggesting He must obey the “laws of faith.” It exchanges the glory of the Creator for the image of corruptible things (Rom. 1:23)—mansions, jets, Rolex watches.
The Reformed Response: Recovering the True Gospel
Reformed Christians must respond with clarity and courage:
- The Gospel is Christ. It is not health or wealth but Christ Himself who is the treasure of the believer (Phil. 3:8).
- Salvation is not for sale. “Freely ye have received, freely give” (Matt. 10:8). The gospel cannot be bought or sold.
- God ordains suffering. Trials are not curses but instruments in God’s hands for our sanctification (Rom. 8:28-29).
- Faith is not a force. Faith is trust in a sovereign God, not a tool to manipulate Him (Heb. 11:1).
The prosperity gospel cannot deliver what it promises. But Christ can. He offers not fleeting riches but eternal life, not luxury but Himself.
The End of the Matter
As Reformed Christians, we echo the words of Martin Luther at the Diet of Worms: “My conscience is captive to the Word of God.”
The prosperity gospel may fill stadiums and bankroll empires, but it leaves souls starving. Its preachers grow fat on the sheep they are meant to shepherd.
Christ’s gospel does not promise your best life now—it promises eternal life later. And that is infinitely better.
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