is funny, but it is also seriously sad and scary and creepy. Jesse’s story of the origin of earth and humans is not a biblical paraphrase of one of several creation accounts. This is an American, consumerist paraphrase that feeds directly into the darkest, shadow side of our culture — namely, salvation, identity, comfort, and security through stuff. This is the same as an infomercial that promises clear skin or tight abs or sharper knives, except it tugs on people’s heartstrings and vulnerability and puts the powerful language of God and faith on a consumable good.
But wait! The pitch isn’t over!
“I’m believing God for a million partners, so join this flagship of Jesse Duplantis ministries. We’ve got $1,000-a-month partners, we’ve got $10,000-a-month partners, and $10-a-month partners. Please call to be a part of this ministry. I promise you, we’ll get somebody saved, I mean it, we’ll get them healed too. This is Jesse saying [with a huge Cajun smile] I love you, bye bye.”
I give over part of my Social Security check and it saves someone’s soul?
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Ann: “Well, at least there’s lots of diversity in these crowds.”
Jay: “It’s honestly a lot more diverse than most Lutheran churches. I’ll give him that. And I’d love to have this guy over for a dinner party. He’s hysterical.”
Me: “You could be one of his sinner friends.”
Matthew comes back from the bakery, “These pastries are hot.”
Annie: “I’m going to take ownership over that scone right about now.”
THE ROUNDUP
Old Testament passages cited: Twenty-eight.
New Testament passages cited: One.
Cost of products offered: $59 for CDs; $10, $1,000, or $10,000 a month to save souls.
Running total after 1 hours: $179
Image of God: Willy Wonka-ish.
Mentions of Jesus: Two, using his name like a talisman and referring to the second person of the Trinity as a model of self-esteem.
Characterization of Satan: Insanely jealous that God gave human beings stuff and he got nothing to the point that, to this day Satan tries to pretend our stuff is really his. This is cosmic sibling rivalry at its worst.
Thought for the hour: What are mainline churches missing or not seeing that makes buying a CD from the likes of Jesse Duplantis more attractive than being in an actual community of faith?
Enjoying Everyday Life with Joyce Meyer
(Am I a victorious, powerful, stomp-on-the-devil’s-head Christian?) 6:30 a.m.
My guest Ann Graham Brock (Ph.D., Harvard University) is associate professor of New Testament at Iliff School of Theology and has written or edited numerous articles and books, including Mary Magdalene, the First Apostle: The Struggle for Authority. She received an Excellence in Teaching Award at Harvard University, and her television appearances include the History Channel, the Discovery Channel, and several British documentaries. Before getting her doctorate, she received her master’s degree from Trinity Lutheran Seminary and continues to be active in the ELCA today.
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Jay and Annie are done with their shift but are staying past their allotted hour. I totally understand this because in some ways TBN is mesmerizing — kind of like America’s Funniest Home Videos;you know it’s bad, but if it’s on you can’t not watch it.
Dr. Ann Brock has joined us. Once or twice while I was taking Ann’s New Testament class at Iliff School of Theology, she quoted something funny Joyce Meyer had said. I respect Ann quite a bit and know that she sometimes likes Joyce’s frankness and sense of humor in her preaching, so I have invited her to join me for the hour. Ann appreciates that Joyce pokes fun and laughs at herself. Apparently Joyce was raised in a very conservative Christian tradition where women were forbidden to have any authority in the church, much less be preachers. Ann tells me that Joyce “felt a calling to preach, so she had to leave her church where she couldn’t live out that calling, and in the process she lost everything, all of her friends and her community. It’s a powerful story.” I agree.
Joyce’s show is called Enjoying Everyday Life, and the intro is a montage of people doing just that — laughing, having pillow fights, playing in a pile of leaves. But I have to tell you it’s hard to see Joyce doing any of these things herself. She’s now standing on a huge stage behind a large pulpit. She’s dressed in slimming all black with a small gold sweater and dangly earrings. The audience numbers in the tens of thousands and appears to be mostly women.
She opens with a sternly voiced directive: “Open your Bibles up to 1 Peter, chapter 5, verse 8.” She proceeds to read the passage (not surprisingly) from the Ted Turner colorized (Amplified, engorged, made-up, enhanced) version, and this does not go unnoticed by the New Testament scholar in the room, Ann comments, “It’s weird that they always use the Amplified Bible.”
“Dealing with the devil,” Joyce announces, “is something we have to deal with all the time, so we might as well learn to do it right.” She’s talking about how thirty years ago as a good church member she didn’t know what it meant that she was constantly struggling with someone who “wanted to steal my righteousness, peace, and joy and the good plan God had for my life.”
She tells us that the devil roams around looking for open doors to mess with people. “God spoke to my heart a number of years ago.” She claims, “He said, ‘You can forget about open doors; the devil is looking for every tiny crack he can crawl through.’ The more God blesses you, the more responsibility he gives you, and the more of God’s anointing power and authority that’s released in your life, the narrower your path must become. You may get by with things one year that you can’t get by with the next year.”
I hate to admit this, but I think she’s right. The whole devil thing is weird to me, and I’ll get to that, but I have to say that the closer I get to ordination, the more I struggle with things that haven’t been an issue for me for years. My friend Kyle would put a Jungian twist on this and say that my shadow side doesn’t go away just because I go to seminary. It’s just that now I have no choice but to deal with it.
“As a believer in Jesus Christ, you have power and you have authority.” Joyce has this strange mannerism where whenever she moves from the pulpit she clasps one hand over the other in front of her like an evangelical opera diva and stays like that while walking around the stage. It feels a bit like she’s trying to control herself through a gesture management program.
“Turn your Bibles to Luke 10:19.”
“Behold I have given you authority and power.” (She reads from Luke 10.)
Joyce turns to the audience and says, “Say authority and power.” They comply.
“Don’t you like those words? Say, ‘I have authority.’ [They
