In the halls of megachurches, where preachers in tailored suits promise blessings in exchange for donations, a disturbing heresy has taken root: the worship of wealth under the guise of Christianity. Conservative evangelicalism, particularly in America, has undergone a near-total inversion of Christ’s teachings, transforming the radical message of the Gospels into a prosperity cult that venerates capitalism as divine will. What was once a faith centered on renouncing materialism, caring for the poor, and rejecting the idolatry of wealth has been twisted into a theology where profit is proof of piety, greed is godly, and the poor are blamed for their own suffering.
At the heart of this distortion is the Prosperity Gospel, a doctrine that equates financial success with spiritual favor. Preachers like Joel Osteen, Kenneth Copeland, and Creflo Dollar preach that faith—often accompanied by generous "seed offerings" to their ministries—will unlock God’s financial blessings. This theology turns the Bible’s warnings about wealth on their head. Jesus’ declaration that “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:25) is ignored, while out-of-context verses about "abundance" are weaponized to justify unchecked accumulation.
The Prosperity Gospel is not just bad theology—it is a complete betrayal of Christ’s message. The Jesus of the Gospels drove moneychangers from the temple, told a wealthy ruler to sell all he had, and preached that “You cannot serve both God and money” (Matthew 6:24). Yet modern conservative Christianity has merged the two, creating a hybrid faith where the holy trinity is Profit, Power, and Privilege.
Beyond the Prosperity Gospel, conservative Christianity has sanctified free-market capitalism as God’s chosen economic system. Tax cuts for the wealthy are framed as moral victories, social welfare is denounced as "socialism" (a term spat out like a heresy), and the myth of the "self-made man" is preached with religious fervor. The biblical call for economic justice—“Do not exploit the poor because they are poor” (Proverbs 22:22)—is drowned out by sermons framing greed as virtuous and regulation as tyranny.
This ideology turns the early Christian community—where believers “had everything in common” and “there were no needy persons among them” (Acts 4:32-34)—into an unthinkable socialist nightmare. The very idea of wealth redistribution, a practice embedded in early Christianity, is now anathema to conservative evangelicals who worship at the altar of Ayn Rand rather than the cross of Christ.
Perhaps the most damning evidence of this inversion is the demonization of the poor. Jesus, who declared “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20), has been replaced by a Pharisee-like disdain for the disadvantaged. Poverty is no longer seen as a systemic injustice to be remedied but as a moral failing. Safety nets are slashed in the name of "personal responsibility," while the wealthy are celebrated as God’s chosen.
This is not Christianity—it is the religion of Mammon, the biblical personification of greed. The conservative Christian embrace of unchecked capitalism, hostility toward the poor, and conflation of wealth with virtue is not just a theological error; it is a full-scale apostasy from the teachings of Christ.
True Christianity has always been a threat to systems of exploitation. The Jesus who flipped tables in the temple would not endorse televangelists living in mansions while their followers struggle. The early Christians, who practiced radical economic sharing, would be horrified by a faith that blesses billionaires and abandons the needy.
If conservative Christianity continues to worship profit over people, it will have fully abandoned the Gospel. The choice is clear: serve God or serve money. But as Christ warned, you cannot do both.
