Anti-Trinitarian Heretic, TD Jakes is Stepping Down

At long last, the velvet-tongued emperor of Christian celebrity culture, Bishop T.D. Jakes, has announced his exit from the pulpit of The Potter’s House—the crumbling empire he built atop the rotting carcass of the Word of Faith movement and anti-Trinitarian heresy.

And no, this isn't a sacred moment of solemn reflection. This is the final act of a man who should’ve never worn a stole, never ascended a pulpit, never even pretended to crack open a Bible without issuing a public apology first.

For decades, Jakes preached not the gospel of Jesus Christ, but the gospel of T.D. Jakes—a gospel fattened on greed, puffed up by heresy, and wrapped in the glitzy, sequined cloth of self-worship. His legacy? A career of setting fires to the foundations of biblical Christianity and then selling tickets to the blaze.

It started, of course, with his embrace of modalism—the ancient, condemned heresy that says God isn’t triune but just plays dress-up depending on the mood. Trinity too complicated for Jakes? Of course it was. He needed a God who could shape-shift as easily as his own sermons morphed from prosperity pep talks to motivational speeches fit for TEDx stages. He didn’t feed sheep, he fattened goats for the slaughter.

And yet the heresies don’t end with his theological butchery. No, Jakes spent decades perfecting the art of religious grift, hawking the prosperity gospel like a snake oil salesman in silk robes.

"Sow your seed, reap your reward," he crooned from a golden pulpit, as if God were some celestial slot machine waiting for the right coin to drop. While the broken and the desperate emptied their pockets, Jakes built a kingdom of marble foyers, private jets, and backroom deals—all under the grinning lie of “kingdom building.”

But even the greatest charlatans don’t work alone. Steven Furtick was the adoring apprentice, the eager mimic, the dollar-store knockoff of Jakes’ ministry of self. Together, they didn't so much shepherd the flock as they fleeced it, turning churches into circuses where the name of Jesus was a marketing slogan and the offering plate the main attraction.