One of my favorite movies is a 2014 Brendan Gleeson masterwork called Calvary. It's about an Irish priest, Father James, doing his best to care for a motley collection of townsfolk whose relationship to morality is as complicated as James's own past. In one scene, Father James is summoned to the home of a lonely, drunk, ultra-rich narcissist named Michael Fitzgerald to receive either a confession or a donation, he's not sure which.

As a demonstration of how little money means to him, Fitzgerald takes a priceless painting from the wall of his own parlor, throws it on the floor, drops his pants, and urinates on it. Father James is not impressed by the gesture nor the renunciation of wealth it is meant to communicate. James tells him, “Ipreach it again in the years to follow.

Prosperity theology is a pernicious distortion of Christian teaching. The Bible describes a God who is slow to anger and abounding in love, who longs to give good gifts to his children. But it also makes clear that those gifts are not always, or even usually, material. Wealth, in fact, can work counter to faith. And the most celebrated heroes of the New Testament — Paul, Peter, James, John, Mary, and Jesus himself — died poor, lonely, and misunderstood. In one of the most famous passages in the book of Hebrews, a list of lionhearts often called the “hall of faith,” the Bible praises disciples this way:

“Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were put to death