May 25th, 2025
by Chris Behnke
by Chris Behnke
If I had a dollar for every time someone misquoted Jesus about money, I could fund a small revival. “Blessed are the poor…” they say, as if Jesus meant poverty itself was holy. He didn’t. But that’s the story so many of us were handed—by well-meaning parents, churches, and even our own broken experiences. Somehow, the gospel of hope got twisted into a gospel of just-getting-by.
Let’s get honest. If you’re like most believers I meet, you’ve wrestled with this tension: We serve the God who owns “the cattle on a thousand hills” (Psalm 50:10 NIV), yet feel guilty for even wanting a bigger bank account. I know the feeling. I spent years with a mental block about finance, convinced any desire for more was just greed in disguise.
Where Did We Get This Backward Idea?
Let’s drag this into the light. The early church didn’t idolize lack—they shared what they had, yes, but they also funded missionaries (Philippians 4:15-19), cared for widows (Acts 6:1-3), and supported entire communities. Check your New Testament. Paul thanks the Philippians for sending him resources more than once. He never says, “Next time, please send less.”
But in the modern church, somewhere between “deny yourself” and “pick up your cross,” we started believing that lack is more righteous than plenty. We stopped seeing money as a tool in the hand of a righteous steward and started seeing it as a moral litmus test. Have a little? Safe. Have a lot? Suspicious.
Let me be blunt: That is not the gospel. That’s spiritual Stockholm Syndrome.
The Real Root of Evil
You know the verse. “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10 NIV). It’s not money. It’s not provision. It’s not even wealth. It’s the love—the idolatry, the obsession, the self-worth that gets knotted up with dollar signs. The Pharisees fell into that trap. Jesus called them out for loving recognition and status, not for having resources.
Poverty mindsets keep people small. They keep families cycling through lack, convinced it’s their spiritual duty to stay there. I’ve seen it in business owners, missionaries, even pastors. The result? Churches afraid to dream big. Ministries forced to cut corners. Believers who cringe at the thought of “success” because someone might think they sold out.
Who Benefits From This?
Not you. Not the Kingdom. Only the enemy.
Let’s expose what’s really going on: If the Church is broke, powerless, and apologetic about blessing, how will it ever become the resource center God designed it to be? How will it build orphanages, launch businesses, or fund global missions? Not on good intentions alone.
As Kris Vallotton says, “You can’t cast out poverty—you have to renew your mind and outgrow it.” Amen.
Personal Confession: My Own Mental Shackles
Look, I didn’t write this from an ivory tower. I spent years with a poverty mentality. I’d get a little ahead, then sabotage myself—raise prices, then apologize for it, give away my time for free, nervous someone would accuse me of “loving money.” It was exhausting.
The worst part? I wasn’t just holding myself back. I was holding back my family. My team. The people God called me to serve. All because I thought “humility” meant settling for less than what God wanted to give.
The day I realized that my beliefs about money were actually beliefs about God’s goodness, it knocked me flat. Did I really trust Him as Source, or just as someone who’d bail me out if things went bad? Did I believe in His abundance—or in just enough to get by?
Abraham, Joseph, Lydia—Proof God Doesn’t Hate Wealth
Read through the “heroes of faith.” Abraham was so blessed, the local kings tried to get rid of him because he was too powerful (Genesis 13:2, NIV). Joseph managed the wealth of an empire. Lydia, the purple cloth dealer in Acts 16, bankrolled Paul’s ministry. None of them worshipped money—they stewarded what God put in their hands.
There’s a difference between having resources and being owned by them. That’s the biblical line.
Practical Challenge: Catch the Thief
Proverbs 6:31 says if a thief is caught, he must pay back sevenfold. But you have to catch him first. For most of us, the thief is a lie we’ve believed about money, wealth, or even ourselves:
“If I prosper, people will judge me.”
“There’s never enough, and there never will be.”
“If I get ahead, something always goes wrong.”
“God doesn’t want me to have more than I need.”
These are not just thoughts. They are agreements you’ve made with lack. Every time you repeat them, you renew the lease on poverty.
It’s Time to Evict That Lie.
Here’s your first assignment—it’s not optional if you’re serious about breaking free.
List every negative belief you have about money. Don’t censor. Write down every ugly, petty, fearful thought.
Put a big “X” through each one. Physically cross them out.
Rewrite: “I disagree with the lie that [insert belief].”
Pray: “Holy Spirit, show me the truth about my design and resources.” Sit still. Listen. Write what comes.
If you really do this, you’ll feel a shift. It’s not magic. It’s repentance—a new way of thinking. And it’s dangerous. The enemy hates it when you catch him.
Reframe: Money As Assignment, Not Identity
Money doesn’t give you value. Only God does that. But money is how we resource our assignment. Think about it. If you were called to build houses for the homeless, would you rather have a hammer or a Home Depot card? Resources change the game.
When you start to see money as assignment, not identity, you stop being afraid of it. You start asking, “God, what’s this for?” instead of “God, am I allowed to have this?” Now you’re dangerous.
What Happens When the Church Gets Free?
Imagine believers who stop apologizing for blessing. Imagine churches so resourced they fund city-wide transformation, not just Sunday pizza parties. Imagine families who raise up solution-bringers, not survivalists. That’s what happens when we refuse to pay rent to poverty.
It’s not about driving a fancy car (unless you’re called to minister to car collectors, then go for it). It’s about saying yes when God asks something big—because you aren’t hamstrung by lack.
Closing Thought: Progress Is Messy, But Worth It
This isn’t a one-and-done. You’ll have to fight these lies every time you level up. But you’re not alone. I’ve walked this road, and I’m still walking it. The key is refusing to let your past or your culture set your ceiling.
Stay tuned. In the next post, we’ll talk about stewardship—not as a “Christian duty,” but as the secret weapon of Kingdom impact. It’s not just about budgets. It’s about breaking the cycle for good.
Your inheritance is at stake.
Onward,
Chris Behnke
Let’s get honest. If you’re like most believers I meet, you’ve wrestled with this tension: We serve the God who owns “the cattle on a thousand hills” (Psalm 50:10 NIV), yet feel guilty for even wanting a bigger bank account. I know the feeling. I spent years with a mental block about finance, convinced any desire for more was just greed in disguise.
Where Did We Get This Backward Idea?
Let’s drag this into the light. The early church didn’t idolize lack—they shared what they had, yes, but they also funded missionaries (Philippians 4:15-19), cared for widows (Acts 6:1-3), and supported entire communities. Check your New Testament. Paul thanks the Philippians for sending him resources more than once. He never says, “Next time, please send less.”
But in the modern church, somewhere between “deny yourself” and “pick up your cross,” we started believing that lack is more righteous than plenty. We stopped seeing money as a tool in the hand of a righteous steward and started seeing it as a moral litmus test. Have a little? Safe. Have a lot? Suspicious.
Let me be blunt: That is not the gospel. That’s spiritual Stockholm Syndrome.
The Real Root of Evil
You know the verse. “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10 NIV). It’s not money. It’s not provision. It’s not even wealth. It’s the love—the idolatry, the obsession, the self-worth that gets knotted up with dollar signs. The Pharisees fell into that trap. Jesus called them out for loving recognition and status, not for having resources.
Poverty mindsets keep people small. They keep families cycling through lack, convinced it’s their spiritual duty to stay there. I’ve seen it in business owners, missionaries, even pastors. The result? Churches afraid to dream big. Ministries forced to cut corners. Believers who cringe at the thought of “success” because someone might think they sold out.
Who Benefits From This?
Not you. Not the Kingdom. Only the enemy.
Let’s expose what’s really going on: If the Church is broke, powerless, and apologetic about blessing, how will it ever become the resource center God designed it to be? How will it build orphanages, launch businesses, or fund global missions? Not on good intentions alone.
As Kris Vallotton says, “You can’t cast out poverty—you have to renew your mind and outgrow it.” Amen.
Personal Confession: My Own Mental Shackles
Look, I didn’t write this from an ivory tower. I spent years with a poverty mentality. I’d get a little ahead, then sabotage myself—raise prices, then apologize for it, give away my time for free, nervous someone would accuse me of “loving money.” It was exhausting.
The worst part? I wasn’t just holding myself back. I was holding back my family. My team. The people God called me to serve. All because I thought “humility” meant settling for less than what God wanted to give.
The day I realized that my beliefs about money were actually beliefs about God’s goodness, it knocked me flat. Did I really trust Him as Source, or just as someone who’d bail me out if things went bad? Did I believe in His abundance—or in just enough to get by?
Abraham, Joseph, Lydia—Proof God Doesn’t Hate Wealth
Read through the “heroes of faith.” Abraham was so blessed, the local kings tried to get rid of him because he was too powerful (Genesis 13:2, NIV). Joseph managed the wealth of an empire. Lydia, the purple cloth dealer in Acts 16, bankrolled Paul’s ministry. None of them worshipped money—they stewarded what God put in their hands.
There’s a difference between having resources and being owned by them. That’s the biblical line.
Practical Challenge: Catch the Thief
Proverbs 6:31 says if a thief is caught, he must pay back sevenfold. But you have to catch him first. For most of us, the thief is a lie we’ve believed about money, wealth, or even ourselves:
“If I prosper, people will judge me.”
“There’s never enough, and there never will be.”
“If I get ahead, something always goes wrong.”
“God doesn’t want me to have more than I need.”
These are not just thoughts. They are agreements you’ve made with lack. Every time you repeat them, you renew the lease on poverty.
It’s Time to Evict That Lie.
Here’s your first assignment—it’s not optional if you’re serious about breaking free.
List every negative belief you have about money. Don’t censor. Write down every ugly, petty, fearful thought.
Put a big “X” through each one. Physically cross them out.
Rewrite: “I disagree with the lie that [insert belief].”
Pray: “Holy Spirit, show me the truth about my design and resources.” Sit still. Listen. Write what comes.
If you really do this, you’ll feel a shift. It’s not magic. It’s repentance—a new way of thinking. And it’s dangerous. The enemy hates it when you catch him.
Reframe: Money As Assignment, Not Identity
Money doesn’t give you value. Only God does that. But money is how we resource our assignment. Think about it. If you were called to build houses for the homeless, would you rather have a hammer or a Home Depot card? Resources change the game.
When you start to see money as assignment, not identity, you stop being afraid of it. You start asking, “God, what’s this for?” instead of “God, am I allowed to have this?” Now you’re dangerous.
What Happens When the Church Gets Free?
Imagine believers who stop apologizing for blessing. Imagine churches so resourced they fund city-wide transformation, not just Sunday pizza parties. Imagine families who raise up solution-bringers, not survivalists. That’s what happens when we refuse to pay rent to poverty.
It’s not about driving a fancy car (unless you’re called to minister to car collectors, then go for it). It’s about saying yes when God asks something big—because you aren’t hamstrung by lack.
Closing Thought: Progress Is Messy, But Worth It
This isn’t a one-and-done. You’ll have to fight these lies every time you level up. But you’re not alone. I’ve walked this road, and I’m still walking it. The key is refusing to let your past or your culture set your ceiling.
Stay tuned. In the next post, we’ll talk about stewardship—not as a “Christian duty,” but as the secret weapon of Kingdom impact. It’s not just about budgets. It’s about breaking the cycle for good.
Your inheritance is at stake.
Onward,
Chris Behnke
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