When even Time magazine does a more accurate job in presenting Christianity than Joel Osteen, you know the situation is bad.

In the past, people who wanted their “best life now” understood that they were choosing worldly gain over eternal gain. In essence, they were choosing, or at least risking, hell. Mainstream Christianity taught that the joys of Christian might include material wealth, but you’d better not count on it, and if it did, it was your responsibility to pass it on to those less fortunate. You didn’t mind, though, because you were building up treasure in heaven where neither moth nor rust could destroy it.

My, how things have changed.

Of the four biggest megachurches in the country, three–Osteen’s Lakewood in Houston; T.D. Jakes’ Potter’s House in south Dallas; and Creflo Dollar’s World Changers near Atlanta–are Prosperity or Prosperity Lite pulpits (although Jakes’ ministry has many more facets). While they don’t exclusively teach that God’s riches want to be in believers’ wallets, it is a key part of their doctrine. And propelled by Osteen’s 4 million–selling book, Your Best Life Now, the belief has swept beyond its Pentecostal base into more buttoned-down evangelical churches, and even into congregations in the more liberal Mainline. It is taught in hundreds of non-Pentecostal Bible studies. One Pennsylvania Lutheran pastor even made it the basis for a sermon series for Lent, when Christians usually meditate on why Jesus was having His Worst Life Then.

I’m not a big Rick Warren fan, but I have to give him props for this:

Fellow megapastor Rick Warren, whose book The Purpose Driven Life has outsold Osteen’s by a ratio of 7 to 1, finds the very basis of Prosperity laughable. “This idea that God wants everybody to be wealthy?”, he snorts. “There is a word for that: baloney. It’s creating a false idol. You don’t measure your self-worth by your net worth. I can show you millions of faithful followers of Christ who live in poverty. Why isn’t everyone in the church a millionaire?”

The Internet Monk (Michael Spencer) asked, “How many young people are going to be pointed to Osteen as a true shepherd of Jesus Christ? He’s not. He’s not one of us.” I was disgusted by the Larry King interview when I saw it – Larry King, a Jew, seemed more conversant with Christianity than Osteen. Even so, when I first read the IM post Outing Joel Osteen: A Challenge to the Evangelical Blogosphere, I thought it might be a bit over the top. However, further study showed me that Osteen is just the kind of pastor of whom Screwtape is most fond.

I have a friend who mentioned he enjoys Osteen’s sermons. He also enjoys Tony Robbins and other motivational speakers. I have no problem with Osteen as a motivational speaker, and he’d earn a bundle on the lecture circuit, I’m sure. In that capacity, more power to him. But as a pastor, having seen a few of his Bible-verse-bereft sermons on TV, having learned that his theology largely consists of working to be a better person and enjoying the good things God has given you – oh, and thanks for the salvation, too, Jesus – I’ve concluded that he should be repudiated just as firmly as Fred Phelps should be. I think it’s fair to say that Osteen is doing a great deal more harm than Phelps, in fact, because only the most minute percentage of people would ever take that nut job Phelps seriously, while tens of thousands of Christians are subscribing to the health and wealth philosophy pitched by Osteen.

The example given in the Time article is an Ohio factory worker who was laid off and moved to Texas just to attend Lakewood. Having arrived, he talked his way into a good job and is enjoying success in it.

“Right now, I’m above average!” he exclaims. “It’s a new day God has given me! I’m on my way to a six-figure income!” The sales commission will help with this month’s rent, but Adams hates renting. Once that six-figure income has been rolling in for a while, he will buy his dream house: “Twenty-five acres,” he says. “And three bedrooms. We’re going to have a schoolhouse (his children are home schooled). We want horses and ponies for the boys, so a horse barn. And a pond. And maybe some cattle.”

“I’m dreaming big–because all of heaven is dreaming big,” Adams continues. “Jesus died for our sins. That was the best gift God could give us,” he says. “But we have something else. Because I want to follow Jesus and do what he ordained, God wants to support us. It’s Joel Osteen’s ministry that told me. Why would an awesome and mighty God want anything less for his children?”

God wants a great deal more for his children than mere material gain. And Joel Osteen’s worst offense is that, with access to tens of thousands, or perhaps hundreds of thousands of people via his TV show who are thirsty for something more, he’s not telling them how to permanently quench their thirst.