Bethel Church in Redding, California, pastored by Bill Johnson and co-pastored by Kris Vallotton—men who arrogantly believe themselves to be “prophets” and “Apostles”—has earned its reputation as a factory of spiritual fraudulence. This is the same Bethel that gave us “glory clouds,” the thoroughly debunked stunt involving stage smoke and glitter coming from the air ducts while selling it as the “presence of God.”

It’s the same Bethel that introduced the world to blasphemies like “grave sucking,” where people attempt to absorb the anointing of dead saints. What Bethel doesn’t give us, of course, is anything that remotely resembles biblical truth. Instead, it has built its empire on emotional manipulation, manufactured miracles, and a complete disregard for sound doctrine.

At the heart of Bethel’s theology is a twisted perversion of intimacy with Christ—a sort of “gosperotica” that treats worship as a sensual, almost romantic and erotic, experience rather than a spiritual act of submission. Their worship services are designed to evoke deep emotional feelings rather than foster genuine repentance or reverence.

It’s all part of their strategy, to drown people in emotional highs, replace the authority of Scripture with the fantastical claims of their “apostles,” and sell a version of Christianity so hollow it collapses under the weight of its own theatrics.

But Bethel’s ambitions extend far beyond their Redding stage. According to their own website, they believe “this is the hour for the Church to arise and shine,” which, in Bethel-speak, translates to exporting their heretical teachings to every corner of the globe.

The latest destination for Bethel’s spiritual circus is Sydney, Australia. Apparently, the nation that has already endured the Hillsong debacle needed another dose of charismatic chaos. With Hillsong floundering under the weight of multiple scandals, Bethel seems eager to step into the void and stake their claim.

Leading this endeavor are Matt and Elisabeth King, a duo perfectly suited to propagate Bethel’s brand of nonsense. Matt, an Australian who has spent years peddling his version of the gospel in Europe and the U.S., is now returning home to spearhead the Sydney project. His wife, Elisabeth, a former nurse and Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry “pastor,” is equally committed to the mission of turning Sydney into a new hub for Bethel’s antics.

Of course, no Bethel endeavor would be complete without the obligatory “prophecy” to justify it. Back in 2016, Kris Vallotton, the king of vague and failed predictions, declared that he was “releasing the anointing” on Australia. What this actually meant—beyond serving as another example of Vallotton’s penchant for spiritual grandstanding—is unclear. Perhaps it was just a convenient excuse to claim divine approval for Bethel’s eventual expansion into the region.

This is, after all, the same man who confidently predicted Donald Trump’s re-election in 2020 and then sheepishly apologized when it didn’t come to pass. Yet here they are, claiming they saw visions of healings and lives changed, proclaiming that Sydney is ripe for a Bethel takeover, as if Australia has been eagerly awaiting their glitter-infused gospel.

Bethel has already begun its campaign to embed itself in the Australian landscape. Earlier this year, they held a conference in Sydney featuring their usual roster of speakers, including Vallotton himself, no doubt to drum up excitement for the “church” plant. Slated to officially launch in 2025, Bethel Sydney is being framed as a “new beginning” for the region, though anyone familiar with Bethel’s track record knows better.

This isn’t a fresh start at all—it’s just the same old bag of tricks, repackaged for a new audience. Emotionally manipulative worship music? Check. False prophecies? Check. A relentless push to create “heaven on earth” while ignoring the realities of sin and the need for repentance? Absolutely.

Of course, we all know that this move into Sydney isn’t just about planting a church—it’s about expanding an empire. Bethel isn’t content with simply deceiving the people of Redding, they want their false gospel to infect the world. Sydney is just the next step in their mission to spread doctrinal poison under the guise of revival.

They come with promises of transformation and healing, but what they deliver is spiritual chaos and confusion. After all, Bethel’s lead pastor’s wife recently died of cancer despite the church’s relentless claims to miraculous faith-based healings.

So, Australia, brace yourself. Bethel isn’t bringing the light of Christ to your shores—they’re bringing the smoke and mirrors of a counterfeit gospel. And if their track record is any indication, Sydney is in for a flood of glitter clouds, grave-sucking theology, and emotional manipulation masquerading as the work of the Holy Spirit.

This an invasion. And it’s anything but godly.