I started watching this Ghanaian series yesterday out of boredom. Like the average Ghanaian film, I was wondering why other supporting characters acted better than the main character, why the plot could have been better and all the things that you can freely say when you’re not the producer of a movie. Even though the film wasn’t that good, I found myself watching up to the 7th episode before I realized something. It looked to me that I had even been slow to find out because the whole time it was practically in my face. Maybe I didn’t notice it because I’m female and straight.
Aside all the females (the younger ones I mean) being heavily endowed at the backside, all clothing was attempted to show us what blessing God had poured on the actresses. I could understand if it were a home scene where you could just wear less because we usually dress down at home but this was for practically every scene. To work, to visit a friend, to go to the market saw actresses clothed to reveal quite a lot. And there were some sexual scenes that were totally unnecessary–the story would have been perfectly fine if those scenes hadn’t been included.
I know this is becoming the norm recently because we are constantly comparing ourselves to America. But for heaven’s sake, there are different types of clothes for different scenes in American movies and different types of movies in Hollywood! And I think we’re just missing the point on what makes a good movie but that’s just by the way.
So you’re Christian or ex-Christian, and you think the Pastor speaks too much on how the church (the body of Christ, I mean) ought to be wealthy. And that Christianity is about righteous, peace, joy in the Holy Ghost with poverty or a just-enough-to-get-by living. What happens when your daughter, who you’ve raised in all modesty, wants to be an actress? In all glitz and glam. Try telling her that she should make sure she doesn’t compromise her standards and see how super fabulous and popular she’ll be. Or you can console her when she gets nowhere in the industry by telling her it’s a place for the devil and that God saved her by taking her out of it. Maybe that’ll be true. But what if it’s not?
How about we look at it this way. What if these companies were owned by us, Christians, so that we could show classy and Oscar award-winning movies that didn’t require the objectification of women? What if we owned such influential resources that drew people to us so we’d lead them to God instead? What if our children didn’t have to throw away their passions because all that existed had been corrupted and didn’t give room for Christian values?
From what I know about our identity, we are Abraham’s seed. And one reason Abraham was that deep is that when given the opportunity to get what he saw, he saw the world. And so as Abraham’s seed, the world is ours.
Perhaps Paul would convince you even more:
“Therefore let no one boast in men. For all things are yours: whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the world or life or death, or things present or things to come—all are yours”
(1 Corinthians 3:21-22)
The day the rhema of this word hit me, I screamed. I agree that Pastors shouldn’t only preach about prosperity at the expense of other topics because the Gospel is a whole package. But when your daughter or son throws away her faith for the limelight, know that if there had been an avenue created by an uncompromising Christian somewhere, your children may not have lost it this easily.
And that’s what the prosperity messages do.