Part 1 here.
Part 2 here.
Part 3 here.

I’m probably going to wrap this series up within the next couple of weeks, because I think we’re probably getting the idea behind it–which is that we all have some measure of distortion in our mental pictures of God, which often gives us the wrong idea about Him. But before we wrap it up, I want to tackle at least one more of the common ways we distort the image of God. I call this one “God the Sugar-Daddy.”

Need I continue?

I think this particular distortion is rather recent in church history, fueled in part by the Word-Faith movement that began in the latter part of the previous century. (Man, it seems weird to say that.) This is a movement with which I’m very familiar, having pretty much grown up in it. Which is why it feels weird to say it started in the last century. 🙂

Anyhow, the basic idea behind God the Sugar-Daddy is that the promises of Scripture allegedly point to a God who is legally obligated by His own word to give us whatever we ask for. The resulting mentality helps create the image of a Father who basically spoils His children, who gives them whatever they ask without hesitation, not because it’s in their best interests, but just because they asked. And just as spoiled children like to manipulate their parents to get what they want, we, too, like to try to manipulate our heavenly Sugar-Daddy. And the tool we use to manipulate Him is our faith.

It is rarely put this way, especially in the Word-Faith camp, but that camp’s definition of “faith” really helps fuel this idea. In this view, faith is the thing that moves God to action, which creates the assumption that if we don’t receive something we asked for, we simply didn’t have enough faith. In other words, we sort of use our faith to manipulate the supernatural. I hate to say this, but it’s really a subtle form of witchcraft to think in this manner–because no matter how you try to frame it, manipulation is manipulation, and spiritual manipulation is the definition of witchcraft. Even if you think you are praying according to God’s will.

Now, I said a lot of inflammatory stuff in that previous paragraph, so before anyone goes bashing this camp, let me unpack what I have just said. Having grown up in this, I probably understand this movement more than most who have been outside it–and for the record, let me say that I don’t think the Word-Faith camp is entirely wrong about everything. The Scriptures to which they point are really in the Bible, and many times are framed in the correct context. The best gift we have received from this camp is the understanding that God is good, that God does delight in doing good to His children. I have personally witnessed too many incidents of healing and miraculous provision to deny that God does these things, and that they are not arbitrary–God does seem to respond to faith. (How many times did Jesus say, “Your faith has made you well”?) In fact, I’d go so far as to say that the reason miracles happen more in third-world countries than they do in the U.S. is simply because people believe in them.  So there has to be something to faith.

The problem is when we put our own selfish spin on it.

It isn’t the belief that God provides, heals and works miracles that is distorting our image of God–it is the perversions of that belief system according to our selfishness. It’s when we are asking God for extravagant homes and cars out of our own covetousness, rather than asking Him for provision to help those in need, that this perversion becomes evident. Do you see where I’m going with this? It isn’t the Word-Faith camp on their own that is fueling the image of God the Sugar-Daddy; it’s our own greed and self-centeredness that is fueling it. While I certainly don’t think the Word-Faith movement got everything right, I don’t think it’s fair to pin the Word-Faith movement as the sole scapegoat for the prosperity gospel. It would have carried no traction had it not been for the existing greed in our own souls. Had the faith movement arisen in a different culture, one that wasn’t already so consumer-based and materialistic, I can’t help but wonder whether we would have drawn different conclusions from it.

That being said, I think the best way to balance out the distorted image of God the Sugar Daddy is to address the greed and covetousness behind it–to recognize that God is not a consumer commodity, and faith is not a tool to get what we want. God is a Father–not a Father that spoils children, but a Father who truly wants what is best for us. Faith is not a manipulation–faith means trust. Faith is our trust in that loving Father–a faith that actually continues to believe when things don’t seem to go our way.

Let me finish this out by clarifying that this isn’t actually about trying to admit that God doesn’t always give us what we want. That isn’t really the issue here–and taking the argument that direction is simply more evidence of our self-centeredness. The idea here is to recognize that this isn’t just about us, our desires, our needs. Our faith should be about something greater: it should be about the kingdom of God.

Jesus gave us a clue about this when He taught us to pray: “Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” I think it’s right to believe for healing, wholeness and even provision, because those are part of the kingdom. But there’s more to the kingdom than getting our own needs met. Think about the early apostles; think of the things Paul, for example, went through willingly–beatings, imprisonment, lack, etc., all for the sake of a higher cause. Paul didn’t necessarily see a God who took pleasure in his lack; he was willing to forego personal pleasure, enduring discomfort over and over again, for the sake of the kingdom. I don’t think there could be a better application of faith. Do you?

So, enough rambling. The bottom line is that I think the cure for the distorted image of God the Sugar-Daddy is simply a change in perspective. When we stop acting as spoiled children, and start seeing ourselves again as disciples of Jesus, willing to follow Him into the hard places–that’s when our faith will take on a whole new meaning, and our image of God will become more healthy.

 

Musician. Composer. Recovering perfectionist. Minister-in-transition. Lover of puns. Hijacker of rock song references. Questioner of the status quo. I'm not really a rebel. Just a sincere Christ-follower with a thirst for significance that gets me into trouble. My quest has taken me over the fence of institutional Christianity. Here are some of my random thoughts along the way. Read along, join in the conversation. Just be nice.