The prosperity gospel is the "sanitized story" on steroids.

It is the ultimate attempt to explain away the parts of human life that don't look good on a brochure. It turns suffering into a math problem and faith into a spiritual technology.

Lately, it’s been getting under my skin.

Not because I’m against people being successful. Not because I’m against Christians building things. I want to be clear about that. If you have a business, promote it. If you wrote a book, talk about it. If you believe God put something in your hands that can help people, put it out there.

I’m an author. I do the same thing. I want people to read Elias Wynn: The Witness.

But there is a massive difference between promoting what you made and wrapping your personal ambition in Bible language so that nobody is allowed to question it.

That is where it starts to feel like a brand hack.

Jesus as a Sales Funnel

When I see things like, “God doesn’t want you broke,” or “buy my program and watch your business explode with Christ,” it feels wrong. It starts sounding like Jesus is being used as a growth strategy. The gospel starts sounding like a sales funnel.

I believe God can bless people financially. I believe He can open doors and provide resources.

But when did Jesus ever promise material wealth as the proof that someone is walking with Him?

Jesus promised His presence. He promised peace. He promised joy. He promised eternal life. He promised He would be with us in the fire.

He also said we would have trouble. He said to carry our cross. He said not to store up treasures on earth.

When Christianity gets packaged as “believe hard enough and your life will look successful,” I immediately think about the people who are suffering faithfully.

I think about the Christians who are grieving. The ones in poverty. The ones battling chronic sickness. The ones in war zones who will never have a polished "success story" to post on social media.

What do we do with them?

Are they not believing hard enough? Are they outside God’s favor because their life is still hard?

I don’t buy that.

The American Dream in Disguise

Especially here in America, we tend to confuse the gospel with the American Dream.

We treat Christianity like it exists to support our personal goals: the nice house, the clean story, the financial independence. But the gospel is not the American Dream with Bible verses on top.

If my version of the gospel only makes sense in a comfortable country with a stable bank account and a good healthcare system, then I’m not preaching Jesus. I’m preaching American comfort.

There are believers all over the world following Christ with almost nothing. They are being persecuted. They are displaced. They are serving quietly with no platform and no applause.

Are they doing Christianity wrong because their life doesn't look like a success story?

The real gospel has to be good news to the poor, the sick, and the hidden. If it only sounds like good news to people trying to build a brand, then something is off.

Miracle vs. Manipulation

This connects directly to why I wrote Elias Wynn. The book sits in the tension between miracle and manipulation.

Elias is a man who wants relief. He wants his body back. He wants his future back. And then something offers him exactly what he is desperate for.

But the question becomes: is it love, or is it ownership?

Manipulation often comes dressed as relief. It says, “I can fix this. I can make the pain stop.” But underneath that promise, there is usually a leash.

Prosperity-gospel language does the same thing. It uses the language of God to create pressure, shame, and performance. It makes people feel like they have to prove they are blessed. They have to prove they are healed. They have to prove they are winning.

But what about the man who loves God and is still sick?

What about the believer who has joy but does not have comfort?

The Silent Drowning

In previous posts, I’ve talked about the "silent drowning" of men. Men already feel ashamed when they are weak or unemployed or struggling. They already feel like a burden.

If you add a religious message that implies their suffering is a result of a lack of faith, you make the drowning worse.

Now he’s not just sick. He’s wondering if he failed spiritually.

Now he’s not just depressed. He’s wondering if God is disappointed in him.

He feels like his life is evidence against him.

That is dangerous.

Jesus never treated suffering people like failed believers. He moved toward them. He sat with the broken. He didn’t turn pain into a marketing strategy.

From my time as an EMT, I can tell you that "health and wealth" teaching feels very thin when you’re in the back of an ambulance.

When someone’s body is failing, they don't need a slogan. They need presence. They need to know that God hasn't left the room just because things have gone wrong.

Christ is Enough

Some people are called to build. Some are called to give.

But some are called to suffer faithfully and still say, “Christ is enough.” That doesn’t make them failures. It makes them witnesses.

I’m not trying to attack faith. I’m trying to defend wounded people from a version of faith that forgot how to sit beside them.

If your version of Christianity cannot comfort the grieving and the persecuted, then it is too small to be the gospel.

I wrote honest Christian fiction because I want to explore these hard questions without the sugar-coating. I want to look at the shadows and still find a reason to hope.

But that hope isn't found in a sales funnel. It’s found in a God who carries a cross.