You are on page 1of 88

$ell-vation Parables

by Patricia Backora
All Rights Reserved
http://banpreachergreed.tripod.com

This book may be freely copied and shared worldwide for noncommercial purposes of personal ministry, provided content remains
unchanged and credit is given the author.
Freely ye have received, freely give (Jesus, in Matt.10:8).

CONTENTS
No More Nickels. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
BBQ Tithes and Party Wine. . . . . . . . 5
Missing the Postmark. . . . . . . . . . . 10
Barred At the Pearly Gates. . . . . . . 16
When Hell Freezes Over. . . . . . . . . 23
Pay Up, Pardner!. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
What Price Self-Esteem?. . . . . . . . .34
Prosperity Pandemonium. . . . . . . . 40
Religious Racketeers. . . . . . . . . . . 42
Bucks in the Belfry. . . . . . . . . . . . .49
The Loveless Landlord. . . . . . . . . . 56
Jesus and the Rich Man. . . . . . . . . 59

No More Nickels!

Names fictional, a true story

Honest, this really did happen at a church I visited several times.


Although it seemed like something out of a comic book, I didnt find it
the least bit funny. It made me want to cry for the poor people who
got humiliated by it.
Brother Bullard (not his real name, of course!) was an elderly
pastor whod forgotten how to count his blessings properly. He had
received a rare miracle from the Lord_being healed of a physical
infirmity beyond the power of medical science to help. Deeply grateful
to Jesus, Brother Bullard wanted to serve Him for the rest of his days,
and so long as he kept his priorities straight he did a magnificent job.
Brother Bullard was a jolly fellow. His worship services always had
you swaying and tapping your feet. He was good at exhorting the
saints to believe God for the impossible, for he was living proof that
Jesus is still in the healing business. Brother Bullard was so full of life
you never felt like falling asleep in the pew.
Our area had fallen on hard economic times. The joy of the saints
had to spring from deep within, not from their sad circumstances.
Quite a few in the small congregation were out of work. Just burning
the gas to go to church was a big sacrifice. But it never occurred to
any of these good folks to stay home till times were better and they
could put real paper money in the offering plate again.
These

transparently honest people just gave what they had...and, in


monetary terms, it wasnt much.
Brother Bullard and his family had gotten used to a comfy lifestyle,
even though they were far from millionaires. They didnt have to
work at the plastic plant or the chicken cannery. While Brother
Bullards flock could barely make ends meet he and his family often
travelled to church conferences to get recharged spiritually. This was
like icing on the cake of the pastors privileged life. His poor flock
struggled for mere bread.
But it was getting harder and harder for the pastor to afford such
treats, above and beyond his living expenses. It got to where he
dreaded counting up the proceeds after each service. He hated the
nickels and pennies given by jobless, burdened saints. Despite the
fact that the majority of prayer requests seemed to be for God to find
jobs for young couples with kids, or to relieve financial want.
Well, Brother Bullard would take authority over this financial
crisis...in the wrong way. Scarcely had everyone sat down before he
got their attention and picked up the offering plate. Why should you
be ashamed to let others see what youre up to, he asked his people, if
what youre doing isnt wrong? Let the whole wide world see your good
works!
Now, Ill start the offering the proper way, he said, whipping out a
ten-dollar bill and flipping it into the plate. And dont place your
nickels so softly inside so they wont make a clink, as if youre
ashamed for people to see your generosity. Just pick em up and
throw em right in! With that, Brother Bullard took a fistful of nickels
out of his pocket and slammed them contemptuously in front of the
pulpit.
No one got up and left, though I wish they had. There was just a
shamed silence and awkwardness which subsided after a short time.
But before you knew it, Brother Bullard had that old piano pumping
out Gospel tunes just like nothing unusual had happened. I got so
disgusted I stopped going shortly thereafter.
In John 2: 13-17 youll read about another Preacher Who slammed
some coins down to the floor. Only that time it was to protect the poor
rather than to publicly humiliate them. Jesus didnt much care for the
way the devils business was being transacted in the Temple. His
Fathers House was not to be a market place, but a House of Prayer. I
can imagine the bellowing beasts stampeding away from the whip
Jesus made, how the money changers coins jingled onto the
pavement and rolled away from greedy scalawags fleeing from Jesus
shouts of rebuke.
Brother Bullard sure didnt value the coins he threw down.
Anybody whos ever been broke knows that a nickel can be the
4

difference between getting all the groceries you selected at the


supermarket and having to put something back. Maybe it was just as
hard for those folks to put a quarter in the plate as it was for Brother
Bullard to reward himself with a ten-spot. Gods kids must beware of a
haughty attitude . Those who fly high can fall hard if He is forced to
humble them to make them see sense again.
Just who did Jesus commend in Luke 21:1-4? The rich kingpins
who dumped big offerings into the Temple treasury or the destitute
widow who gave her last two cents? That was all she had left to live
on, but the pompous scribes and Pharisees who bragged about their
generosity were too blind to see as God sees. Jesus said the poor
widow gave her all, but the rich gave just a bit of their extra fat. Gods
math is a little different from that of people who are impressed by big
numbers.
I know that Prosperity Theology has gotten to be a deeply
entrenched, respectable fixture in todays church world but the writer
of James sees things differently. The first nine verses of James
Chapter 2 exhort the Church of God not to treat rich church members
better than poor ones. James even goes so far as to label it a sin
against Gods Royal Law of Love to treat poor Christians like secondclass citizens. Verse 5 says: Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not
God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the
kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him? And James
reminded his listeners that it was the rich who opposed the FirstCentury Church the most.
Heaven will not be populated by uppity ten-cent millionaires who
refused to value their humbler brethren the way Jesus does. Good
things come in plain packaging. All true saints of God are receptacles
of His gifts and His grace, and heirs of His eternal Kingdom who have
His Spirit dwelling within them. This world and all its fading glories will
soon pass away. Only those treasures laid up in heaven will last
forever.
$$$$$$

BBQ Tithes and Party Wine


One picnic is worth a thousand windy words
Pastor Bob knew the Reverend Superior of the Regional Synod thought
hed completely flipped. But Bob also knew he was between a rock and
a hard place. Better to take flak from another man than risk Gods
displeasure about hiding the real truth from Christians who had a
right to know it. The New Covenant tithing tax was as heated an issue
5

to the modern church as circumcision had been to the early church,


and just as much a sacred cow. But Bob had prayerfully researched
his Scriptures. He could no longer in good conscience condone this
age-old heresy. It was an outright sin to confiscate ten percent of a
poor familys income in the Name of the Poor Carpenter Who never
financed his own ministry that way. Paul hadnt done that, nor had
Peter and John, who said: "Silver and gold have I none." So what gave
the leaders of his denomination the right to further impoverish people
poorer than themselves? In this Age of Grace Gods people were no
longer serving under the Mosaic Law, so it was even wrong to take
tithes off the rich parishioners. This predominantly working class
congregation was always grumbling about the pressure put on them to
tithe.
Bob dreaded the visit of Reverend Superior Rufus. But he must
finally make a firm stand for the Truth of Gods Holy Word. The
Reverend Superior was a scrappy old bear, but Bobs primary loyalty
must be to the Redeemer Who had washed him in His own blood, not
to modern-day pharisees soaked in tradition.
The two men met in Bobs big study. "Pastor Bob!" the venerable
old churchman rebuked, "What is this I hear? You refuse to respect
the long-standing dogma of our diocese! Rumors are circulating that
you disagree with our churchs policy on member tithing!"
"True, Reverend Rufus," Bob hesitated. "Are you aware of the fact
that the Apostle Paul never once enforced tithing in the churches under
his oversight?"
"Youre splitting hairs over mere semantics," said Reverend Rufus.
"Youre obsessing over what you CALL the money laymen put in the
plate! A hundred dollar check is a hundred dollar check irregardless of
whether you label it a tithe, a donation, a contribution, or an offering.
Paul taught generous giving, and he didnt even turn down
contributions from the destitute saints of Macedonia. So why do you
make such a fuss over the label you attach to the funds coming into
this church? God loves a cheerful giver, so the logical implication is
that He hates a stingy one."
"But youre a doctor of divinity, Reverend, with a string of degrees
as long as my arm. Youre Head Chair of Doctrinal Forensics at
Stonewall Seminary. You must know what Scripture really says about
the Biblical tithe, and that Gentiles were never appointed by God to
collect it."
"Gentiles, smentiles!" Reverend Rufus barked. "Pastor, youre one
Gentile who will end up a janitor if you dont submit to church
authority as the Bible commands! Ill be back in town to check on you
in two weeks time, and if by then you arent enforcing tithing in this
congregation, Ill have you excommunicated from the flock of the
6

faithful. Not only that, youll be defrocked faster than a fiery chariot.
By the time were done with you, boy, you wont be able to preach to a
parish of winos on Bourbon Street!"
Winos...for some reason that word kept circulating in Bobs brain
long after the eminent gentleman had left. After praying about his
dilemma for a few minutes, Bob found the courage to smile. Some key
Old Testament Scriptures were resurfacing. If this preacher went
down defending the truth, he would go down in a blaze of glory!
After Pastor Bobs next Sunday sermon, he announced an event, to
be held in two weeks time. Most everyone got excited about it. The
few skeptics among them said they wouldnt stay in any church which
could split over fundamental doctrines. They simply walked out.
The day before Reverend Rufus was to visit the diocese, Pastor Bob
prayed for courage, then phoned his superior. "Ive got some very
good news for you, Reverend Rufus. Ive seen the light! I preached
my heart out about the tithe, and the whole congregation shares my
enthusiasm!"
"So your discourse was well received?"
"Believe me, Reverend Rufus, they gobbled it up! I really do look
forward to seeing you again. Id thought that since youre in the area,
we could meet tomorrow...say, about one oclock?
"That would be just fine with me, Pastor, and I am so relieved we
wont be needing to retire you."
"Reverend Rufus, since the weather is so lovely, Id like to confer
with you out in the Sunday School courtyard tomorrow. That picnic
table under the shady tree would be a pleasant place to converse. My
wife will be providing a light lunch for us, including some of her homebaked cherry pie. Would you enjoy that?"
The clerics crusty voice softened. "Why, Bob, you know I never
could resist your wifes cherry pie. Ill be there at one oclock sharp."
The next day Reverend Rufus parked his car, puzzled by the fact
the lot was nearly full. He called Pastor Bob on his cell phone to ask if
he still wanted to meet out in the courtyard, and why the full parking
lot? Bob said Sister Jane Smith was starting a diet club in the east
wing conference room, and not to worry. The reverend reached the
flower-dotted courtyard. A delicious aroma made his mouth water. The
gate was wide open. It was quiet, but Pastor Bob was definitely not
alone. "SURPRISE!" a jubilant multitude yelled. Far from starting a
diet, the congregation was holding a surprise picnic for him! What was
the occasion? It wasn't even his birthday!
The place was packed with laughing adults, but where were the
young people and children? Reverend Rufus saw burgers, chicken and
steaks sizzling on charcoal grills. Salads, desserts, condiments, and
potato chips were laid out on tables. But what was in some of his
7

parishioners hands? The reverend gasped in shock. Beer bottles!


Wine coolers!
No wonder there werent any kids squealing and
running around! It would be illegal for them to be present on premises
where alcohol was being served. In his very own churchyard, no less!
Before the Reverend Superior could castigate his flock for their
indiscretion he noticed a speakers podium set up in front of a vast
portable billboard. Painted on this huge sign in bold black letters was
one Scriptural passage he wished had remained buried in the Sweet
Sea Of Forgetfulness. Above it appeared this sprawling title, in bright
red paint:
MONEY CANT PAY TITHES...
IT BUYS TITHES TO THROW A PARTY WITH!
Deuteronomy 14:22: Thou shalt truly tithe all the increase of thy seed,
that the field bringeth forth year by year (Deut. 14:22).
Verse 23: And thou shalt eat before the Lord thy God, in the place
which he shall choose to place his name there, the tithe of they corn,
of thy wine, and of thine oil, and the firstlings of thy herds and of thy
flocks; that thou mayest learn to fear the Lord thy God always.
Verse 24: And if the way be too long for thee, so that thou art not able
to carry it; or if the place be too far from thee, which the Lord thy God
shall choose to set his name there, when the Lord thy God hath
blessed thee:
Verse 25 Then thou shalt turn it into money, and bind up the money
in thine hand, and shalt go unto the place which the Lord thy God shall
choose:
Verse 26 And thou shalt bestow that money for whatsoever thy soul
lusteth after, for oxen, or for sheep, or for wine, or for strong drink, or
for whatsoever thy soul desireth: and thou shalt eat there before the
Lord thy God, and thou shalt rejoice, thou, and thy household.
Another bold red message appeared beneath that passage:
DONT EAT THE TITHE?
WHAT DID THAT SCRIPTURE JUST SAY?
But Reverend Rufus didnt much care for Scriptures which didnt
keep the church treasury filled. Like the Pharisees of Jesus day, he
bowed to religious tradition, thus rejecting the authority of the Word of
8

God in his own life and the lives he influenced. This was too rich for his
religious blood. "Pastor! What in Sam Hill is going on here! People
drinking booze on church grounds! Ill have your head on a paper
plate for this outrage!"
Pastor Bob sauntered over, sipping a tropical cooler. "But
Reverend, were only doing what you wanted! Were observing the
tithing law. If youll read that sign, youll know were well within our
Scriptural rights to buy Bud and wine cooler with the tithe money! We
could have brought stronger stuff, but we exercised self-control. Back
in Bible days, the kids would have joined in, but theyre having their
own cookout over at Sister Lolas. Phoebe and Marge are keeping the
babies and toddlers. The designated drivers are drinking Cokes and
iced tea."
"But were under the New Covenant, reprobate Bob," the reverend
rebuked. "I know a lot of these people drink privately in their own
homes, but if they really loved Jesus, theyd partake of spiritual wine
only, and you know it! Look at all those six-packs on the tables!"
"Well, Who turned the water into wine and drank it Himself, but
Jesus?" countered Bob, as hickory smoke hung in the air. Jesus said
His own life was to be an example for us, if you want to split hairs,
Reverend Rufus. Youre the one who told us to observe the tithe, so
this party is part of it. Well, Its about time to start my sermon." Bob
went to collect his notes and hopped up onto the podium. Reverend
Rufus felt powerless to interfere because of all the people cheering
their pastor on.
Bob began to address the crowd through the microphone: "We're
going to talk more about the tithe, everybody. Now we all appreciate
Reverend Rufus, and Im not attacking him today, just a few flawed
doctrines, and Im only doing that to defend the truth. Reverend Rufus
says it's a sin to drink wine, and we respect his right to believe that,
irregardless of the fact the Israelites drank wine at their annual tithing
festivals. Now we know Paul the apostle denounced drunkenness as a
sin, but where in Scripture does he forbid the occasional glass of wine
with dinner? Paul told Timothy to take a little wine for his stomachs
sake and for his oft infirmities. As for spiritualizing away the literal
wine and strong drink which Scripture clearly instructs worshippers to
buy with proceeds from the sale of literal tithes; why not go whole hog
and spiritualize away the literal MONEY literal laymen out in literal
pews pay into the church pork barrel to finance literal ministry perks?
You know as well as I do the Bible only commands New Testament
believers to offer up spiritual sacrifices unto God, and whatsoever good
work is not done out of a heart of faith is sin. If you scare money out
of people, that is a dead work of the flesh springing from fear, not
faith, and God cannot accept such tainted works as righteous.
9

Bob was plum tired of knuckling under to error to prove his love
for Jesus. The picnickers attacked their tithe food with gusto as their
pastor laid it on the line: "We Gentiles have been grafted BY FAITH into
the spiritual tree of Israel, not because we kept their Mosaic Law. You,
Reverend Rufus, demand that we Gentiles graft your favorite bits of
old Mosaic tithing law into our Dispensation of Grace and observe it as
meticulously as our culture will allow. But we know that our modern
way of life as well as our lack of literal Levites to take the tithes will
not permit perfect fidelity in following God's divinely ordained pattern
for enforcing correct Mosaic tithing procedure. And what is sin, except
falling short of God's mark of 100% perfection in doing things HIS way,
rather than man's way? To put it bluntly, anybody who practices tithing
in observance of Mosaic Law today has to conclude they're sinning in
doing so because they cannot perform this ancient ritual to God's
exact specifications.
In Galatians 3:10 Paul reminds his listeners: Cursed is every one
that continueth not in ALL things which are written in the Book of the
Law to do them. If you omit even the most picayune precept of the
Mosaic Tithing Law, whether its tithing only on farm produce or
COLLECTING TITHES ONLY IN THE AUTUMN ONCE A YEAR, AND EVEN
THEN, ONLY SIX YEARS OUT OF SEVEN as the originial Law stipulates,
you stand in violation of the Word of God, and youre bringing yourself
under a curse, not a blessing!
Reverend Rufus tried to protest, but he got drowned out by the
collective uproar. Once it got quiet enough, Pastor Bob continued:
When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, satan quoted from Psalms
91 to trick Him into thinking that even if He threw Himself off the top
of the Temple, that God would still protect Him. But Jesus didnt cave
in just because the devil disguised that temptation with Scripture.
Jesus said: It is written: Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. Jesus
triumphed over satans
Scripture-twisting temptation with a proper
application of the Word of God, saying: It is written. Whenever
somebody tries to shame you into observing unscriptural traditions of
men by questioning your love for Jesus, remind them that Jesus
Himself resisted wrong traditions with It is written. Jesus denounced
the dogs dinner unscrupulous Pharisess had made of the meat of
Gods Word by twisting it to serve their own ends.
In Mark 7:9 Jesus says to the Pharisees: FULL WELL YE REJECT
THE COMMANDMENT OF GOD, THAT YE MAY KEEP YOUR OWN
TRADITION. In this context, Christ rebukes the Pharisees for
encouraging people to neglect the care of their aged parents in order
to dump more money into the Temple Treasury. In Matthew 12:7 Jesus
says to some self-righteous Pharisees who are criticizing His disciples
for picking grain to eat on the Sabbath Day: But if ye had known what
10

this meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice, ye would not have
condemned the guiltless. Even if God had commanded tithing to be
done on dollars and cents instead of agricultural produce only, He
would still choose mercy over sacrifice, where it concerns feeding
hungry poor people. Thats what the tithe was used for in the first
place!
But Brother Bob, one man called, what about the widow giving
her last two mites, even though she was hungry?
She sure did, Brother Hayward, and Jesus said shed given more
than all the rich men who were only giving out of their surplus fat. But
where does Jesus say that the Law of Moses REQUIRED the poor
widow to donate her bread to the rich? Did Jesus COMMAND that
hungry widow to give her last two cents to the Treasury? When
preachers misuse that passage to pry money out of Gods people, they
are appealing to the same traditions of men condemned by Jesus. In
Jesus day, the safety net provided for poor people by the Law of
Moses had been twisted into a cozy hammock for rich religious men to
lounge in. Gone were the days when the hungry of the land could go to
their local tithe storehouse, confident that they would be fed. The
Mosaic tithing system had been ordained by God to provide for the
poor, not to gratify the greed of men. But that was before the Law was
tampered with by scribes and Pharisees who interpreted it for their
own benefit, and added lots of burdensome new ordinances to it. In
the beginning the priests and Levites were counted among those who
had no inheritance of land in Israel. They were numbered with the
poor, the fatherless, and the widow who also consumed the tithed
produce of Israel. But by Christs time, the priests were the richest
members of Jewish society. By the time He walked the earth, the
corrupt religious system, far from caring for the poor, was robbing the
poor to pamper the rich! Far from commending the clergy for taking
mites from widows, in Mark 12:40, Christ promises only terrible
damnation to hypocrites who devour widows houses.
How many
money-hungry ministers are provoking God today, the way they
preach on the Widows Mite to rob even more widows! Do you think
God will go any easier on todays Pharisees than the Pharisees of
Jesus Day?
"Just why are we Gentiles acting out this farce today? Because a
picture is worth a thousand windy words, that's why! The goal of this
picnic is not to chow down on Bud, burgers, and hot dogs, but to give
you all an idea of how much men have violated the spirit of the Law by
spinning and warping His written Word into destructive traditions. If
you think God is open-minded about that, remember that Abels
sacrifice was accepted by God because he followed Gods precise
instructions, whereas Cains sacrifice was rejected because he did
11

things his own way, rather than Gods way. Hopefully, this picture
sermon will help stem the tide of newer heresies creeping into this
congregation, but since there aren't any Levites around to make this
affair kosher, we might as well go whole hog again and chow down on
Gentile food, eh?" Hmmm....that reminds me. Susan is sizzling some
juicy pork chops. Care to join us at our 'Gentile tithing party',
Reverend Rufus?
"You're making a joke out of something holy!" Reverend Rufus
cried. "Abraham was a Gentile, and HE tithed!"
"Yes he did, but guess what he tithed ON, Reverend; or have you, a
renowned professor of theology, never studied Genesis Chapter 14
with a mind unbiased by tradition? Abraham presented to Melchizedek
a voluntary tithe, and only of the spoils of war, some of which had
been plundered from the home of his own nephew Lot. And Scripture
doesnt say that Abraham ever tithed on his personal stash of
livestock, gold or silver. Granted, Abraham frequently offered up
animal sacrifices to God, but Abraham's tithing appears to have been a
one-time act of thanksgiving to God for His help in battle. Are you sure
you want to keep the tithe the same way Abraham did, Reverend
Rufus? Wait until some burglar breaks into your nephew Clarences
home and loots his home. Then go after that burglar and beat the
stuffing out of him. After all, Abraham fought a battle before he paid a
tithe. Once youve whipped the burglar, take back Clarences CD
player, computer, designer clothes, TV, and his CD collection, which our
theoretical burglar stole. But before you give Clarence his stuff back,
take ten percent of it off the pile and donate those things to the
Salvation Army.
The old pharisee's blood was boiling. "You're out of order, and I'm
gonna report you to the Regional Synod for heresy! What in Sam Hill is
going on over there?" He spotted Deacon Denton and his buddy Ted
carrying boxes of goodies to a van out in the parking lot.
"Relax, Reverend Rufus. Dentons keeping yet another tithing
principle. Last week, I told the congregation to tithe one final time, as
part of this project. I told them the money would also be used to feed
the men at the rescue mission down on Seaview Avenue. My, I never
saw such enthusiasm for digging into purses and pockets as I saw last
week. Once the people realized God wasnt holding hellfire and
brimstone over their heads for switching from tithing to gracious
giving, they gladly chipped in.
Reverend Rufus was close to tears. "But you had no right to do
that, and you know it!"
"Remember, Reverend, a hundred dollar check is a hundred dollar
check, irregardless of what you call it? Where it concerns generosity
the Old Law says: YOU MUST. The new Law of Liberty in Christ Jesus
12

says: YOU MAY. All I know is, if we had stuck more closely to the letter
of the tithing law, those men would have been here at this party
rejoicing with us. If youll read Deuteronomy 16:11, youll see that the
poor are provided for by the tithe, and they are to rejoice before the
Lord together with the tithe payer. But rather than bring those
recovering alcoholics here to be tempted by the wine coolers and beer
we used as today's object lesson, we thought it a better idea to take
soft drinks and barbequed meat over to the mission so they could have
their own party."
Reverend Rufus pounded the podium. "But we needed that money
for the building program and you know it! God depends on tithe
money to build churches for his glory! Do you really think those tightfisted cheapskates out in the pews will turn loose of their money
unless we put pressure on them?"
"Reverend Rufus, God created the heavens and the earth in only
six days. How much tithe money did He need to finance THAT mother
of all building projects? If buildings are so important to God, HE will
provide for them! Thats where faith comes in. Little people have to
live by faith all the time, so why not us? Were the ones who preach
faith from the pulpit. Let us set an example for our flock and practice
the principles we preach."
"If you really loved Jesus you would submit to authority and
stick to decent doctrine!" Reverend Rufus rebuked. "Youd better
change your tune or youll roast in hell one of these days, son!"
"Reverend Rufus, Im getting mighty hungry for roasted tithe food,
and those pork chops are getting mighty cold. Well close my message
with a little food for thought: "Show me just one Scripture in the Bible
where Jesus collects tithe money to build buildings with. Most always
He instructs His hearers to give to the poor, not to rich preachers. He
told His disciples to PROVIDE NO MONEY in their bags when they went
out two-by-two to preach the Kingdom of God. Instead, He promised
them that God would provide for all their needs. Are you a follower of
Jesus, Reverend Rufus?"
"Not YOUR kind of Jesus, you stubborn reprobate! Now I want you
to go to your office, clean out your desk, and take Him with you when
you go! Both of you get out of MY church now! Youre fired!"
$$$$$$

Missing the Po$tmark


How to Pinch Pennies to Pamper the Poodle-Permed Preacher
13

Janet stretched out in her easy chair and yawned. She would soon
have to return to her job as an airline ticket agent after taking six
months maternity leave. But she would make the most of this brief
break. At least she knew that when she went back to work shed be
reinstated in her former position. At least she wasnt some poor
factory worker who might not be able to get her job back. Poor Ralph
had to work one full-time and an extra part-time shift on the police
force just to keep them all going, and it wasnt easy maintaining the
family without her contribution. But Janet would enjoy these precious
moments of quiet in her buttery soft recliner. Her two older kids would
be coming in from school in just an hour. Then the noise of their
horseplay would fill the house, and the baby would wake up from her
nap, howling for attention.
She flicked on her favorite televangelist, "Brother Harvey
Greengold". The tall, tanned poodle-permed preacher belted out his
usual greeting of "Praise the Lord! Your blessings about to blossom!"
As he pointed his jeweled finger at the viewer, it seemed like his
reassurance was for Janet alone. A bouncy musical intro and a glittery
floral backdrop emphasized his byline: "God meets big needs when
you sow big seeds."
Janet wasnt quite so sure anymore. Times were harder than ever.
Even after the family income had plummeted she had regularly sent
this guy a good chunk of her household allowance money, without first
mentioning it to Ralph. Hed hardly noticed the missing funds,
attributing their meager family meals to necessary belt-tightening
during Janets unpaid maternity leave. Ralph didnt resent it, though.
A new baby was lots of work and it had taken Janet a long time to
regain her health after the birth.
"Sometimes God tests our faith," said Brother Greengold. "If youve
sent this ministry a sacrificial offering and you havent gotten back
your hundred-fold return yet, just hang on. In school, my nickname
was "Hang-on Harvey". No matter how hopeless the basketball score
got, Id never give up. Id just keep on playing the game till I sank the
winning ball into the hoop. And because I refused to be defeated, God
has richly rewarded me for it. The devil wants you to be discouraged
and to give up. But instead of confessing defeat, send in a one-time
"Defy the Devil Donation" to show youre standing up to satan and
wont give in to his temptation to be a quitter. The more money you
sow to keep this ministry on the air, the madder satan will get. And
keep this in mind, saints. Without your help, we wouldnt be able to
feed the hungry around the world. Were dependent on YOU!"
Janet sighed. She felt a little uneasy. But maybe it was because
shed kept Ralph in the dark about her donations. She took a ten14

dollar bill saved from her grocery money and folded it into a letter
pleading for Dr. Greengolds prayers for deliverance from poverty. Just
this one last time....
Hank and Jeff, her tall, skinny teenagers came in, barely saying
"hi" to her before stampeding to the kitchen. The baby started yelling.
Janet heard the fridge door bang open, then boisterous shouts:
"Gimme that milk! Youre hogging it all! Hey, its mine, you pig!"
Janet had barely entered the kitchen when a splash of milk hit her
in the face. "Hey, stop acting like animals, you two! Its all weve got,
so share it! Look, theres 70 cents on the table, so go get another
quart and stop arguing."
"Just a quart!" Hank, the 16-year-old, griped. That wouldnt even
wet my tongue!"
"Well, thats all the money Ive got left," Janet said, wondering if
she was lying. "Unless you two can pitch in."
Jeff, the 14-year-old, dug into his pocket. "All Ive got is six cents."
"All Ive got is eleven cents," Hank said. "Guess wed better mow
a few yards so we dont starve to death, huh!"
"Well, we could just mix flour and water and pretend its milk," Jeff
suggested.
"If were not out of flour too," Hank added with a note of sarcasm.
"Very funny," Janet frowned. "Why dont you just pray God will
provide milk for us?"
"Showers of milk, showers of milk we need. Milk drops around us
are falling, but for the pizza we plead!" Hank sang with dramatic flair,
mimicking an old hymn.
"Stop it!" Janet scolded, recalling a tragic lesson from II Kings
Chapter 7. "Somebody in the Bible got into big trouble with God for
saying he didnt expect Gods blessings to just drop out of the sky like
rain! Gods teaching me to have faith even when things look bad! If it
wasnt for Pray TV helping me believe in Gods promises Id be up the
creek without a paddle!"
"Those guys dont look too poor to me," Jeff shrugged. "Theres
always milk in their fridge. And I bet its chocolate, too."
"And theyve got a swimming pool in their back yard," Hank chimed
in.
"Well, God rewards those who faithfully preach the Gospel," Janet
said.
"Ill say he does," Jeff said scornfully. "I oughta get into the religion
racket so I dont have to have to suck out chicken guts at the Henny
Penny plant after I get sprung out of high school."
"That was uncalled-for and you know it!" Janet looked mad. "Your
Aunt Marsha works there!" Why did teenagers have to be so sassy
anyway?
15

"If you guys want to make yourselves useful, drop this in the mail
when you go get the milk," Janet said. "Baby Brenda is yelling her
head off, so Id better go feed her. Be sure to get this off right away, so
I can get God to bless us. I want todays postmark to be on it, and the
last mail is collected at five." She handed the boys her letter to Brother
Greengold.
The boys grinned. "God sure is particular about when the mail
truck collects His fan mail and takes it to preacherland, California,"
Hank said.
"Never mind your sass, just mail it for me, okay?"
Once the baby was fed and bathed, Janet put her in her play pen
and went to fix supper. Why, a good cook like her could work wonders
with leftover pinto beans, a couple cans of tomatoes, rice and chili
powder. There was even a chunk of cheese in back of the fridge. She
cut off the moldy part and hummed as she assembled her special dish.
Tomorrow would be another day. Maybe then God would multiply back
all the money shed sent in to that preacher. And todays donation
would go out in todays mail, the deadline Brother Greengold told his
flock to aim for. It just wouldnt do to "miss the season of anointing"
by waiting for a more convenient time to give. Todays postmark on
Janets letter would be her point of contact in believing for her miracle!
October 20 was, according to Brother Greengold, the Lords chosen
Date for Destiny!
An hour later the boys still hadnt arrived home, but Ralph came in
for two hours to rest and eat before going back in to work the night
shift. He gave Janet and the baby a kiss and said, "Were collecting
odds and ends for the police rummage sale. I need a couple bags to
stuff some of my old junk in." He fumbled beneath the sink and got
out several plastic shopping bags. He spotted a grocery receipt in the
bottom of one bag. Curious, his fished it out and looked it over.
"October 19, that was yesterday, wasnt it?" he asked Janet.
"Yeah, honey, what about it?"
"The total amount due was $19.30. We already gave the boys their
bus and lunch money for the week, so you should have ten left from
your shopping budget. Where is it? I might need it tomorrow."
Her words came with difficulty. "Youll get it back, Ralph. Every
penny. I promise."
"Where IS it?" he asked, feeling very uneasy.
"The Lord told me to send it to somebody who needs it even worse
than we do."
"And who could need it even more than us?" Ralphs voice rose.
She replied in a near-whisper, "Brother Greengold, that preacher
on TV. He runs charities to feed the poor around the world."

16

"Ha!" Ralph snorted. "Ive heard a few things about him. How
could you fall for his con game?"
"What con game, Ralph? He shows pictures of hungry kids. It
breaks my heart to see them."
"The pictures may be for real, but that doesnt mean Brother
Greengolds an honest guy."
"But what if he is, Ralph? Why run the risk of not helping those
innocent children? Whats fifty cents, or a dollar, every now or then?
At least we dont have to do without the necessities of life."
Ralphs voice cracked with anger and frustration. Hot resentment
flared up in his heart. "Oh, Ive done without a lot since my mom had
that illness she was uninsured for, and when she fell between the
cracks of our system it was up to me to pay her hospital bill. But what
can you do when its your own mother but make sacrifrices to help!"
"Well, we had to help, Ralph," Janet said weakly. "Shes your
mother, right?"
"Yeah, Ive had to do without a lot, Janet. I do without my coffee
and my favorite cookies. Its been ages since I saw a single piece of
fruit in this house. No meat to speak of. Every morning day in and day
out I get slopped with mortar mix oatmeal for breakfast. Once a week
we get hot dogs and macaroni if were really splurging. I buy all my
civvie clothes at thrift shops...when I can afford to. In heavens name,
who could possibly need that money more than us!" His face was red
as a beet.
"Brother Greengold does run foreign missions, Im sure," Janet
whispered, blinking back tears.
"What foreign missions!" Ralph cried. "The only foreign missions
he collects for is foreign missions to Hawaii and his Lands of the Bible
cruises, first class, of course!"
"Why, Ralph, thats a terrible thing to say about the servant of the
Lord!"
"The only "lord" Greengold serves is himself!" Ralph retorted. "Busy
slave though I am, I had my suspicions all along about what youve
been up to, because I spotted a few of his mail-outs laying around the
house and caught you watching him one day when I was off. I didnt
want to be the bad guy and force you to stop giving to what you
thought was the Lords work. But God helped me see through this
spiders web of religious panhandling going on. So I kept quiet about
it and started checking this guy out on the Internet and doing a little
free lance detective work. If I had any suspicions about this guy they
were confirmed by an article posted by one of his former associates.
Anyhow, this guys conscience ate at him so bad he asked Gods
forgiveness for being associated with Brother Greengold, and he was
one of his right-hand men too."
17

"Well, Ralph, Brother Greengold did say something about how the
devil was coming against his ministry..."
"The tax men no doubt," Ralph snorted. "I did more digging on
this guy. I just never told you till now. Hes being investigated for
fraudulent use of donor funds. And I just found out about his little
nest egg in Switzerland. Tax-free, of course."
"Wanna know more about how Brother Greengold lives, Janet?
Want me to pull back the carpet and expose the cockroaches hiding
underneath it?"
Janet nodded, feeling angrier at herself than with the TV preacher.
"Now, heres just a few of the perks of his so-called ministry! A
multi-million dollar mansion with nine bathrooms, a tennis court, a
horse farm, top designer clothes, Chardonnay wines, private jets,
platinum gold diamond jewelry, a collection of Rolexes, fancy
paintings, yachts, fancy cars, gold bathroom swans, trips to the Holy
Land! Whens the last time you or I had even one lousy weekend
together where we could even go to Ruby Falls for a lousy fishing trip!
While Brother Greengold has a fleet of Mercedes and Porsches, the
only decent car I drive belongs to the force and I have to rob Peter to
pay Paul the payments on my own second-hand car. Hank just told
me his track shoes are falling apart and the other guys are razzing him
about it. We little guys and gals work like slaves so hucksters like
Brother Greengold dont have to! I bet he thanks God every day for
those poor starving kids he shows off on TV! Oh, he might cry
crocodile tears over them to keep the money rolling in, but when his
tear-jerking show is over he laughs all the way to the bank! While he
feasts like a king we eat garbage food to keep guys like him in style.
His cats eat better than we do," Ralph grumbled.
"Garbage food?" Janet choked. "Why, were having something
special tonight...Festive Beans and Rice. My own recipe."
"We ate beans last night, and the night before that potato soup,"
Ralph groaned. "Beans are beans and Im turning into one big rootintootin bean, Ive had so many! What does Brother Greengold eat?
Five-star cuisine at Figaros! Asparagus tips braised in lemon herb
butter with savory wild rice! Noisettes of veal in wild truffle sauce!
Candied pheasant and crepes flambe with raspberry coulis!" That was
the menu served at his special "Inner Circle Banquet" to honor his top
ten donors! Id say I did my homework thoroughly!"
"How could Brother Greengold deceive us like that!" Janet
blubbered. "He never told us about that banquet! He said he does
without to help his hungry babies and he fasts a lot!"
"Yeah, maybe for ten minutes at a stretch as he rides his stretch
limo to Figaros to wine and dine his cronies to celebrate their latest
windfall!"
18

Just then two sheepish-looking boys entered the kitchen carrying


grocery bags. While Jeff set 3 frozen economy pizzas, a gallon of milk,
and some cheap cookies on the table, Hank confessed for them both:
"Mom, Dad, we know youre probably gonna kill us, but we just
committed highway robbery."
"You didnt..." Janet gasped, eyes widening in shock. "Just tell me
you didnt open my private mail and steal the money out of it."
"Yeah," Jeff shrugged. "Didnt have no choice."
"Heres the fifty-seven cents change left over, Mom." Hank plopped
it on the table and swallowed hard.
"Dont you know its a Class A felony, boys, tampering with other
peoples mail?" Ralph said sternly, even as he looked longingly at the
groceries. "I oughta slap cuffs on both of you and haul you in!"
"But Dad, we were starving. Please dont run us in. Were awful
sorry."
Ralph looked at Janet, then asked her: "How long have you been
mailing our food money to that guy behind my back?"
"Ah...six months or so, dear. IIm sorry. I kept on sowing seed
for a miracle that never came." Janet felt very ashamed.
"No wonder Hank and Jeff got desperate enough to commit a
federal offense," Ralph sighed. "Now Im not excusing what they did,
but if you had spent ALL the grocery money I gave you on food, they
never would have fallen into such temptation."
"I know, dear," she said weakly. "I was fed a lie on TV, and I fell
for it."
Ralph frowned at the two teenagers, though his mouth watered
from the prospect of a decent meal. "Ordinarily Id ground you two
guys for what you just did till the Rapture comes, but Ill go easy on
you just this once because you got so hungry you werent thinking
straight. And you did confess right away. Just dont tell anybody else
about thisexcept maybe Jesus."
Fearfully the boys nodded and swore theyd never do it again.
Ralph looked back at Janet. "You and the boys arent the only ones
to blame. You embezzled cash from the food fund to send to a fool,
and the boys stole that money, but that TV preacher robbed our family
of money that should have gone into adequately feeding us. Now
heres a verse the pastor uses against us all the time:
Will a man rob God? But dont preachers commit grand larceny
against God every time they take food out of the mouths of Gods
people so they can have gold-plated shower stalls and private jets?"
"I should say so, dear," Janet meekly lowered her head.
"The Bible also says its not okay to take the childrens bread and
throw it to the dogs," Ralph said. "Thats First Degree Child Abuse."

19

"Ralph," Janet gasped, "youve convinced me Brother Greengold is


a hustler. But dont you think its a sin to call him a dog?"
"I should say not, Janet. Somewhere in Isaiah it talks about
greedy dogs that can never have enough, and shepherds which lack
understanding. That fits Brother Greengold to a tee."
"So its okay we took the money to eat, then, Dad?" Hank
wondered.
"No, not that way, son. It would have been best to come to me
once you suspected that your mother might be sending our food
money away. That was an invasion of your mothers privacy, though
you acted out of sheer desperation. Both you boys are grounded for
two weeks and I expect you to pay your mom back out of your lawnmowing money. Okay?"
"Fair enough, Dad," Hank said.
Ralph turned to Janet. "From the start of our marriage I made it
plain that in good times and bad, weve got to be honest with each
other. I know your motive was to try to get God to bless us, but you
were led astray by a con artist and we all had to suffer for it. Just like
satan deceived Eve in the Garden of Eden the preacher deceived you
and played on your emotions to get you to open your heart, and your
wallet, wide. But this time Ill let you off with a warning." He mimicked
a stern, coplike expression.
She gave him a quick kiss. "Im so sorry, dear. Im really surprised
you found out all that bad stuff about Brother Greengold. Besides the
fact I sent him money I saved by putting my family on short rations,
maybe the reason God hasnt blessed my donations to him is this:
Because Gods blessing doesnt really rest on him and if God had made
us rich from sending him money, God would have been aiding and
abetting a con man."
"Amen to that," her husband grinned. "So it hasnt been a total
loss. It might have been an expensive lesson, but weve all learned
something from this case." He cleared his throat. "I think it would be
best, Janet, if for the time being, we did the grocery shopping together
as a family, eh?"
She looked wounded. "You dont trust me anymore, Ralph, but
how can I blame you?"
"I didnt say I dont trust you, dear, but this pay the preacher
prosperity game can get to be an addiction. Everybodys got their own
temptations to struggle againstme, you, the boys. That only shows
how human we all are. And Im not fool enough to think there arent
other carnival acts on Pray TV hustling for easy dollars with a sob
song. They preach a slot machine religion which obligates God to give
you the moon if only you put enough quarters in the slot. But in that
game, only the devil wins. Im not trying to put you down, just help
20

you to resist temptation. Besides, helping to do the shopping would


give Hank and Jeff an education in getting the most for their dollar.
Youd really be doing them a favor, Janet."
"Wellokay, dear. Its the least I can do to show Im on the right
track now."
"Good. Oh, by the way, boys, what did you do with your mothers
letter to Brother Greengold after you fished his funds out of the
envelope?"
"We resealed it with chewing gum and sent it to him but first we
wrote him an IOU...payable in the year 2500. Sorry about that too,
Mom," Jeff said. "We were way too hungry to behave like good
citizens."
Even Janet had to laugh at that one. "In the year 2500? I doubt
Brother Greengold will still be fishing for funds during the Millennium!"
"Honey," Ralph sighed, "if I had my way you wouldnt have to go
back to work unless and until you really felt like it."
Janet swallowed hard. "Ive got no choice, Ralph. Short of a
miracle."
Just then the phone rang. Ralph went to answer it. When he
came back some fifteen minutes later, his face was aglow with joy.
"Guess what, guys? Captain Gunnar just called to say Im the one
they picked out of eight candidates to replace Sgt. Phillips on the force
when he retires next month. Did you hear that, everybody? Im the
new police sergeant of this entire town!"
Cheers all around. "Know what, Janet?" Ralph said. "With my big
raise maybe you can stay home awhile longer, at least till Brendas
bigger. What do you say to that?"
"Well, I dont knowwhat with the cost of living, wouldnt things
still be a bit tight around here?"
"Id already been wondering how to work that out, Janet. We could
move all that junk out of the basement and convert it into a spare
bedroom to rent out to some student. That would take a lot of
pressure off us, too."
"Maybe Mom could even afford to make cookies for us again!" Jeffs
eyes shone.
"And I could get those new running shoes I need!" Hank said
excitedly.
"But first lets pop those pizzas into the oven," Ralph grinned.
"Afterward we all go out for ice cream. Time to celebrate and praise
the Lord for the light at the end of the tunnel."
$$$$$$

21

Barred at the Pearly Gates


Flock fleecers cant take the fleece with them when they go.
"Another migraine, dear?" Pastor Petes wife asked sweetly. She went
to get him the two Tylenols and glass of water he usually took before
bed.
"I just cant stand this job," Pastor Pete moaned. "Mary, those
people are getting stupider and stupider all the time."
"Just give them time, Peter," she said. "Theyll learn."
"I just cant believe it." He rolled up his eyes. "Those people are as
dense as pea soup. I just dread tomorrow. Last week some kid put
Monopoly money in the offering bag. Another rug rat put three jaw
breakers in. And some dotty old lady put a fudge brownie in it with an
IOU. Dont those people know the only food I want to see in that
offering is crispy lettuce with big numbers on it? If we dont get more
of a cash flow, our whole church operation will fold like a house of
cards."
"Just do what you tell them to do, dear. Just confess prosperity,"
said his wife, rubbing his sore temples. "This trial will soon pass."
"Why do we only attract down-and-outers?" Pastor Pete moaned.
"Why cant I persuade more upwardly mobile people to transfer their
membership from Upper Crust Cathedral? We live in the ritziest part
of town and all we get are underpaid peons who cant even pay a
decent tithe."
"Maybe they need the money to feed their families, Peter," Mary
said.
"So? Dont we need it too? Why should I have to deduct money
from my base salary to rob Peter to pay Paul, just because the church
board cant afford to pay me a decent travel allowance? After all, I
represent them whenever I go anywhere. If things get any worse,
Mary, they wont be able to keep up the premiums on our medical
insurance. None of the other local pastors is going through this. That
affects my standing in the eyes of the community, just the same as if I
ran a five-star restaurant, then added burgers to the menu and cut my
prices to attract the riffraff."
"Arent you being a bit harsh about it, Peter?"
"Mary, dont be naive. Jesus said that sometimes we have to take
the Kingdom of God by force." The pastor got a devious look on his
face. "Its time to try the other approach, Mary. No more Mr. Nice Guy
dangling the Prosperity Carrot. Time for the stick approach, seasoned
with a little old-fashioned fire and brimstone. After Im through with
those people, theyll rush their offering into the bags. Tithes too."

22

Mary frowned. "Me? Immature? Im only thinking about those


scriptures you discovered about what true tithes really consisted of:
vegetables, grain, livestock, stuff like that. Remember, you were as
shocked as I was that Biblical tithes never consisted of money, and you
couldnt find any Scripture where Paul commanded church members to
pay 10% of their wages to preachers?"
He put his hand on her lips. "Shhhh! Mustnt let the cat out of the
bag, Mary...or," he grinned..."the tithe money out of the bag. Their
ignorance is the prosperity of our church. And our ticket to paradise if I
play my cards right. Honey, tomorrow is Fleece the Flock Day at Green
Pastures Church!"
Mary bit her lip. She had a fine line to tread. Nowadays plenty of
pastors had no qualms about trading their old wives in for "a partner
more compatible with their ministry", and if she crossed her precious
Peter she might lose him someday, along with all the fringe benefits
that came with being a prosperity pastors wife.
Pastor Pete told Mary to just go on to bed without him, because he
would be up most of the night. He got out the notes for his old
sermon, filled with his usual prosperity rhetoric and tore them up. He
spent the next two hours carefully crafting a new sermon. Then for
another three hours he stood in front of a full-length mirror rehearsing
it until he got it just right. He paid special attention to voice
dynamics, facial expressions, body language and vocal inflection. It
was 4 a.m. before he finished. He wore a tired but happy expression
as he plopped into bed for four hours of rest before he must get up to
dress for 10 a.m. services.
Next morning, Pastor Pete crawled out of bed and over Marys
objections, chugged down four cups of strong black coffee with his
breakfast. Despite his shortage of sleep he must appeared forceful
and dynamic in the pulpit, not tired and washed out. Patiently he
waited till the final pre-sermon hymn was finished: Give of Your Best
to the Master. His heart raced from all that caffeine he wasnt used to
drinking...or was it from the sheer excitement of finding new direction
for his ministry? He spoke a perfunctory prayer and popped open his
Bible to Malachi Chapter 3, the first of many "sticks" he would use in
this make-or-break sermon on giving. He said, "The title of this
sermon is taken from verse 8: Will A Man Rob God?" The words came
out like a thunderclap. More softly, with a hint of choked pathos: "Yet
ye have robbed me."
WhoonearthdarestorobAlmighty God!"
Pastor Pete
whispered slowly and deliberately. He shook his head, then bowed his
head, as if in grief. He raised his eyes heavenward, rubbing his hands
together as if in supplication. He drew a deep breath, then took a sip
of water.
23

His face was stern and hard. "Turn with me now to Deuteronomy
16:16. Why isnt God pouring out His blessing upon His people at
Green Pastures Church? Notice here it says: Three times a year shall
all thy males appear before the Lord thy God...AND THEY SHALL NOT
APPEAR BEFORE THE LORD EMPTY! Thats exactly what so many of
you have been doing. Coming to this hallowed place to take, take,
take, but whenever the offering bag comes within fifty feet of you you
shrink away from it like it has leprosy!"
An elderly lady in the second row raised her hand. "Yes, Sister
Dora!" the pastor barked, irritated by the interruption. My, how very
unseemly.
"Pastor, that verse you read from just told the males to come to the
House of God to give donations, and only three times a year. Right?"
Laughs all around. That was one feisty old gal.
"Yes, sister, but this is the Age of Grace. Were under a far better
covenant, and so you should do much more than what that verse
requires, just out of gratitude for all Jesus has done for you. That
means you should give your best offering and tithes all year round and
even if youre a woman."
"Oh, but I DID do more than that verse said! I stuck that brownie
in the offering bag last week because my Social Security hadnt arrived
in the mail yet, and I wanted to show how much I appreciated you.
Did you enjoy it, Pastor?"
Pastor Pete scrunched up his nose. "Youre here to give to the
Lord, sister, and I very much doubt He likes brownies. That doesnt do
much to pay the church mortgage, now, does it?"
Dora rushed out of the sanctuary, crying. The congregation was all
abuzz by now. This wasnt the popular "Gods Gonna Make You Rich"
pastor everyone was used to. He was as just as outspoken as ever,
but something about him was very different today.
Pastor Pete kept on quoting verses on giving and sacrifice, and
misapplying them to minister guilt to a financially struggling flock who
could not hear the Voice of the Good Shepherd in the peevish,
belligerent voice bellowing from the pulpit.
"You are cursed with a curse!" Pastor Pete shouted as his sermon
reached a feverish crescendo. His face got red as a beet as the vast
sanctuary reverberated with rebukes. "Thats what my Bible says in
Malachi 3, verse 9, so its not open to debate! For these past few
weeks the vast majority of you have committed highway robbery
against God!" he cried, pointing his finger accusingly. "And your lame
excuse for being stingy is youve gotta put food on the table! Yeah,
right! Some of you butterballs could stand to shed a few pounds by
fasting a day or two!"

24

He scowled at them and pinched his middle. "See? I cant pinch an


inch! That poor widow who gave her last two mites to the Temple puts
all of you to shame. At least she had an excuse for being stingy! You
Twinkie addicts dont even trust God to repay two dollars saved out of
your grocery budget, so our missions fund is drying up! What a sorry
excuse for Christians you are! You just dont care that millions are
going to hell without Christ! No wonder God cant afford to bless you.
Just think Who youre being stingy with, the God who gives you every
breath you breathe....." Pastor Petes face went white as a sheet. His
eyes rolled back and he slumped to the floor.
Two deacons rushed over. One dug out his cell phone to summon
an ambulance.
"Peter, Peter!" his wife cried. She ran up to the podium, wringing
her hands.
One of the deacons gave the pastor mouth-to-mouth respiration
while the other said: "Sister Mary, this looks like a heart attack. Did
he seem sick last night?"
"Hes had a lot of migraines," she sobbed. "Especially the past
couple weeks. His blood pressures been sky high. Oh, no! Oh, Peter,
Peter..."
At the Pearly Gates stood a shining figure in white apparel, angelic
in countenance. This saint of God, whose name was inscribed in the
foundation of the City wall, looked peaceful but solemn, as if the joys
within the Holy City were out of sync with something on his mind. A
golden key ring hung from a belt he wore around his waist. The
Apostle Peter loved to greet newcomers, and besides being with Jesus,
his greatest joy was to admit departed saints into the City of His
Blessed Redeemer. But how sad, to think hed have to turn anybody
away, especially someone who had once tasted of the life of Christ and
then turned away from the Path of Life into the Path of Covetousness
which drowns a soul in perdition. To be so close, and yet so far, how
tragic!
Pastor Pete felt feather-light as an angel carried him upward, ever
upward. He cried out in ecstasy to behold the sparkling prismatic light
of the Holy City, suspended in the Highest Heavens like Gods crown
jewel. His tongue, so heated and angry just a moment before, was
now speechless, for tongue could never describe such radiant beauty.
Surely heaven was his now, and never again would he have to fret
about money.
Somehow the pastor recognized the figure awaiting him at the
Pearly Gate as he was set on his feet by the attending angel. "Oh, I
know you! Youre the Apostle Peter, and I see your keys! Jesus gave
you the keys to the Kingdom, didnt He?"

25

"All those who abide in Christ their Living Vine have the right to
enter here," said St. Peter. "I am only His humble servant. Tell me
the truth, now, Pastor Pete. Did you abide in Christ your Living Vine, or
did you fall away from Christ as a dead branch fit only for the fire?"
"I died doing my duty," Pastor Pete replied. "I wasnt sitting in front
of my computer downloading naughty stuff. I wasnt running around
with other women. I wasnt even watching a ball game on TV. The
Lord was the last thing on my mind before I dropped dead."
"Really and truly?" St. Peter raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, St. Peter. I was speaking out in defense of Gods holy
offering in the church. What nobler way could I have died, than while
taking a stand in the pulpit against defrauding the Lord of what is
rightfully His?"
"You were the one who defrauded the Lord, Peter," said St. Peter.
"You robbed his people of peace. You despised the poor saints. You
robbed the Christ within them of dignity. You peddled a deceitful
doctrine to pry money out of Gods people, and you hoped they
wouldnt discover the real truth about tithing, is that not so?"
"Not exactly, St. Peter. I was planning to tell them sooner or later.
But my congregation wasnt mature enough to receive the entire truth
just yet. Just like you cant tell a tiny child the whole story about how
babies are made."
"But you thought your brethren were mature enough to have their
pockets picked by a worker of iniquity posing as a minister of
righteousness," St. Peter frowned. "Why do you think youre standing
here now?"
"Well, St. Peter, those stingy people got on my nerves so bad it
gave me migraine headaches, and my high blood pressure killed me."
"I believe you know why you died," said St. Peter.
"Was it all that caffeine I chugged down before church?"
St. Peter shook his head.
"But now that Im here, St. Peter, I just cant wait to see my
mansion!" Pastor Pete looked happy as a little kid with a new computer
game.
"What about Jesus?" St. Peter looked very sad. "Where is He on
your list of priorities?"
"Oh, I want to see Him too, St. Peter, but what a blessing, that Ill
never have to worry about money ever again!"
"That part is true, Peter. But there will be no mansion for you. You
have no inheritance in the Kingdom of God."
"What!" Pastor Pete cried. "I preached my heart out! I supported
overseas missions. In the name of all decency, I demand that you tell
me why I cant go to heaven!"

26

St. Peter spoke to an angel who attended him. The ministering


spirit hurried to do his bidding. Ill show you just a few of the reasons
why you cant come into this Holy City, the apostle said to Pastor Pete.
But while I wait for my attendant to return, Ill say this: Only eternity
will tell the harm that has been done by greedy wolves like yourself.
Look below you.
Beneath the vast panorama of the starry heavens a vision
unfolded. People who could no longer tolerate the thievery going on in
the House of the Lord were fleeing fancy buildings which appeared to
be on fire. But the minister in the pulpit remained there, holding his
bag of money, immovable as a stone pillar. They are fleeing the
Babylonian Church system which is appointed to destruction by God,
said St. Peter. Down below youll see just one of Gods many sheep
driven out into the wilderness by ravening wolves seeking whom they
may devour. That saint is recording the sad spiritual state of apostates
who have sold their own Lord for money, as Judas did.
The vision crossed time and space, finally zeroing in on a desk
where intense writing was underway. The sad commentary was
beamed up into space and magnified on a vast scroll-like background.
Sins long hidden under religious robes were shouted from the rooftop
of the universe. Pastor Petes mouth hung open in shock as he read
the poem, entitled Preying Preachers:

27

Oh, Those Preying TV Preachers


Oh, those preying TV preachers
Who milk the mail for cash
Blood-sucking Bible teachers
Who blow funds on a beer bash
After pitching your prayers in the trash.
Plant a seed for prosperity
I see a Rolex out there
So hurry to my meet my needs
Just open your wallet and share.
Golden swans in my shower stalls
A trip to the Holy Land
Costly paintings on my walls
Nothings too grand for Gods man.
Adorn my fingers with diamond rings
No off-the-rack suits for me!

28

Pay your taxes to the king


Give, or you wont receive!
The Bible says sow liberally
Blessings dont come for free!
A vow of two thousand dollars
Thats Gods rock-bottom price
Hed rather not be bothered
With a measly ten or a five!
Send in that vow right now
Or the Lord will pass you by
Dont stop praying (and paying)
Or the Fountain will run dry
And youll never get pie-in-the-sky!
Send me your wedding ring
Ill take ANYTHING!
Ill even take the food from your mouth
To help you prove your faith with a vow!
This is YOUR day for a miracle
Youll receive a hundred-fold
So mail your money to me
If you want your cup to be full
This precious truth is worth more than gold
(At least it is to me!).
*****
That picture doesnt look like me! Pastor Pete wailed. Besides, I
never had money floating down from the rafters, and I never had
golden swans in my shower stalls! Pastor Pete wailed.
But the Lord knows you wished you had attained to that level of
wealth, said St. Peter. Isnt that what you ministered to the flock of
the Lord?
All I taught was, were Gods children and we have a right to
inherit the riches of the wicked, which are laid up for the righteous!
Pastor Pete objected. Its in Proverbs 13:22!
Perhaps, said the apostle, But the other part of that verse
speaks of leaving an inheritance to your childrens children. You know
your goal was not to go out into the harvest field to seek and save the
wicked to make them sons of God with an eternal inheritance in
heavenly places. Nor did you teach sound Scriptural doctrine to your
flock, to persuade them to set their affections on incorruptible things
29

above. You taught them to covet corruptible, earthly blessings instead


of the riches they could carry with them into this blessed world. Your
goal was to sow seeds of deceit into their hearts so you could reap a
harvest of filthy lucre. You would have been perfectly content to allow
the wicked to remain wicked, as an excuse to lay claim on their
money. Is that not so? The ancient apostle looked at Pete with steely
eyes which would not fall for his lies.
But we ran evangelistic programs! Pastor Pete cried.
Only so you could take regular tithes of their money once they
came into your church; not to mention the special Prove God
offerings you collected to build that resort for visiting church
officials...after lying to the congregation about that money being used
for missions.
Pastor Pete scratched his head. But St. Peter, if our visiting
pastors feel refreshed from coming to our conferences, they can go
back out to their mission fields and do a better job where things arent
so nice.
St. Peter scowled. The Hawaii Hilton, perhaps?
A tall powerfully built angel emerged from the City gate. He
handed St. Peter a scroll. "Ill cite just a few more of your unrepentedof sins," said the apostle. "Any one of them would keep you out of this
Holy City. Some of the sins listed here are: refusing to renounce
profitable heresies, envy of other churches, pride, deceit, greed,
covetousness..."
"But Scripture says covet the best gifts!" the pastor pleaded. "All
I ever wanted was to have the best church possible! Doesnt God want
us to strive for excellence in our daily lives? And I didnt envy other
churches, I admired them and wanted to be more like them!"
The apostle shook his head. "Thats the sin of emulation. Peter,
wanting to copy someone elses sins of pride. This blessed realm is so
filled with the Light of Gods Holiness that it is useless to try to
whitewash your dirty deeds here. Nothing is hidden from Gods sight.
This whole city is as clear as crystal because of the Blessed Presence
of the One Who is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and in Him is no
darkness at all. See, Peter?"
Pastor Pete seemed to be able to see right through the city walls.
How refreshingly pure everything appeared beyond those Gates of
Pearl. People walked the streets of gold, surrounded by the most
exquisitely lovely trees and flowers. They laughed from the sheer joy
of being in the Presence of God, not because theyd just outsmarted
somebody else for gain. The buildings of the City shone with a crystal
clear transparency unlike any on earth. But beyond the pearlescent
brilliance of that wonderful place was a barrier beyond which Peters
sinful eyes could not see. Peter was unable to view the highest plane
30

of the Holy City, where the Glory of the Throne of God transcended
the brilliance of a billion suns. It was overarched by the seven-hued
Rainbow of Light, which spoke of the covenant of peace which God had
made with Noah after the Flood. The Son of God stood at the Right
Hand of God the Father, making intercession for saints on earth who
were being led astray by wolves in sheeps clothing. But Pastor Pete
was not pure in heart. He could not see the Lord.
"Besides all your other heinous sins, didnt you filch money out of
the missions fund to finance that first-class cruise to Hawaii, just so
your base salary would remain untouched and available for other
luxuries?" St. Peter looked disgusted.
"So? I was going to pay it back, St. Peter, I swear I would have
paid it back! I needed that vacation, to rest from all my pastoral
work!"
"But you deceived your brethren about the missions fund and many
other matters as well. Ananias and Sapphira fell dead at my feet for
lying to the Holy Spirit about what they did with money allegedly
dedicated to God."
"I didnt exactly lie, St. Peter. I just didnt tell them the whole
truth, and I was going to tell them later!" Pastor Pete was sweating by
now.
"Your Great Judge has already weighed you in the balance and
found you wanting," St. Peter said.
"If thats the case, St. Peter, cant I at least be sent to some
intermediate place to grow out of all my sins and faults so I could
someday be found worthy to go to heaven?"
St. Peter shook his head. "Im sorry, Peter, its impossible. If only
you had not been so worried about protecting your reputation among
sinful men.
If only you had confessed your sins before the
congregation as a fellow brother in Christ and asked their forgiveness
for deceiving them in order that you might rob them. God gives grace
to the humble, but you shut your ears to the Voice of His Spirit.
Therefore, He has shut His ears to your cry of despair."
What awful anguish filled the eyes of Pastor Pete. "Oh, nameless
horror! Eternity lies before me, and there is no turning back! The only
time I ever taught my congregation about hell was the day I used it as
a weapon to extort money out of them! And though I am at the very
Gates of Paradise, I stand already condemned in my sins at the Gates
of Hell! Woe unto me! If only I had lived up to the meaning of my
name! If only I had remained true to the Rock of my Salvation instead
of forsaking Him for filthy lucre and building my life on shifting sand!
If only I had followed in the steps of the poor fisherman who said:
"Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee. If only I

31

had laid up treasure in this blessed Paradise, I would not be so poor


now!"
"Pastor Pete," said the apostle, "you became a poor man the day
Christ ceased to be your dearest Treasure."
$$$$$$

WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER


Larry Leach just came on, Roxanne! Junie Mae said excitedly to her
friend on the phone. You know I cant miss him! Id better go grab
the clicker before Phil comes in and changes the channel!
Oh, all right! Roxanne replied. You watch your preacher and Ill go
watch my soaps. Bye now.
Heywait! Junie Mae begged. Dont hang up, Roxanne! You and
Eddie are having a hard time right now, arent you? If only youll
watch the Larry Leach Show on Prey TV hell teach you how you can
prosper in life. It pays to follow Larrys PROSPERITY POWER PACT! Its
the hottest thing in church since overhead projectors. Larrys special
guest is gonna be a real treat. It seems a special research team has
actually pinpointed the location of hell.
Yeah, yeah, Roxanne sneered. Hell is located in debtors court, and
the more you pay the more the preacher prospers! If it pays so much
to pay the preacher, then why are you and Phil still struggling to pay
off that old pickup truck?
Thats where faith comes in, Roxanne.
things not yet seen

Faith is the substance of

Roxanne laughed. All I know, kid, is unless I see the green substance
I dont believe.
Dont tune me out , Roxanne! Larry Leach cant be wrong if he
teaches straight out of the Bible! Just listen to him once!
Roxanne snorted in the phone. My mom sent all her money in to TV
preachers. When that ran out, she hocked her wedding ring to get
more money to send. Not only didnt Mom ever win the lottery, but
her rent just went up.

32

Well, maybe your mom didnt follow all the preachers instructions,
Junie Mae said.
Dont tell me Mom didnt follow instructions! Roxanne cried. She
pasted the preachers Five Pennies of Victory in a straight line on the
yellow prayer card the preacher sent. She anointed each penny with
canola oil. Then Mom clipped off a tiny lock of her hair as a point of
contact and wrapped up it in her biggest bill, which she inserted in the
orange envelope. She kissed the plastic Ring of Sonship the preacher
sent. Then she pressed the tip of the ring into the bit of Play Dough
the preacher sent and said a special prayer over it. Mom said the Play
Dough represented the sealing wax Bible kings used on their official
documents. Mom used that ring to seal her vow of faith.
What else was your mom supposed to do, Roxanne?
She was supposed to take the Two Pigeons of Poverty drawing the
preacher sent, then set fire to it over her barbeque grill as her Burnt
Offering of Faith. The preacher called that her Purge Out Poverty Point
of Contact. Then Mom was to wait till the ashes from the picture
cooled and stick them in the pink envelope. Then, my mom stuck all
the smaller envelopes in the Green Pastures of Prosperity envelope,
and the whole shebang constituted her Blessing Kit for October. She
stuck it under her pillow like the preacher told her to, then slept on it
for just one night, and rushed it to the post office before the deadline.
Only problem was, the post office went on strike that day, so Mom
couldnt get it postmarked and put on a truck headed for Glory City,
California, till the following day.
So you said your mom used canola oil to anoint her Victory Pennies?
Junie Mae asked.
Yeah, Junie Mae, Mom ran out of olive oil.
Well, no WONDER your mom didnt receive her blessing! If the
preacher asked for olive oil, canola oil just wont do! And to make
matters worse, her Blessing Kit didnt get postmarked before the
preachers deadline, Roxanne!
Well, it wasnt Moms fault, Junie Mae! There werent any scabs
crossing the post office picket line to load the trucks that day. Please,
Roxanne, Im getting a headache. Id rather just forget religion for
now. So Ill just hang up and go watch As the Stomach Churns.

33

Junie Mae snorted. Roxanne was so worldly shed rather watch a soap
opera than Larry Leach. Worse yet, her mother was too lazy to go out
and buy the proper oil to produce her miracle. Junie Mae plopped onto
the sofa and clicked her favorite preacher on. The opening song Sow
Harder When Its Hardest was already over and Brother Larrys
message was in progress. Larry was young-looking for his sixty-odd
years, with nary a wrinkle on his boyish face. His brown hair was
styled in a curly coiffure. His expensive suit was set off by a showy tie
and diamond stick pin. He grinned at the camera, showing perfect
snowy-white teeth. He pranced around in a make-believe garden
graced by synthetic angel arias.
Larry wagged his ringed finger straight at Junie Mae. Dont you DARE
appear before the Lord without an offering! And dont use the excuse
that you cant afford it! Gods been so good to you, you cant afford
NOT to send an offering in to support this faith ministry! Jesus says in
Matthew 11:12: The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the
violent take it by force. Saints, its high time we got VIOLENT about
getting whats rightfully ours by faith! If youll turn with me to
Proverbs 13:22 Ill give you still more valuable insight into whats
rightfully yours as a child of God.
The preacher grinned as he read: A good man leaveth an inheritance
to his childrens children: and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the
just.
Saints, if youre any kind of a decent Christian at all, youll leave more
than a cold body behind when you go to be with Jesus. Youll leave
something valuable to your children and even your grandchildren. The
Lord is tired of hearing His people moan and groan about not being
able to pay their bills, and how theyre barely scraping by. But
consider how both parts of this verse fit together. You have a right to
expect that your godly parents or grandparents are leaving YOU a
precious inheritance too! And even if they arent godly, God says the
wealth of the wicked is laid up for YOU! Now when you apply this
scripture by adding what Jesus said about the violent taking the
Kingdom by force, He didnt mean to break into anyones house to
steal the wealth of the wicked. Jesus meant that we have to be
aggressive in prayer and in standing on the Word of God. Tell your
parents or grandparents you have a mission to fulfill in life which will
benefit all of humanity, and ask them if they are able to bequeath your
part of their estate to you while theyre still living. GO to them and
OPEN YOUR MOUTH boldly! Be sweet, but remember this: Faith must
be acted upon or your faith is dead. Your relatives cant take their
34

treasures with them when they die. So invite your prosperous relative
out to lunch or over to dinner, whether theyre saved or lost it makes
no difference. Softly and tenderly remind them that mortal life is not
forever and though they own the cattle on a thousand hills, they cant
take it with them when they go.
If the rich relative is saved, your job is even easier. Tell them to
make this faith ministry the prime beneficiary of their life insurance
policy. We at Seedbag Ministries serve as stewards of Gods earthly
assets, and we will invest that money wisely. We operate missions
which feed the hungry and clothe the naked in third-world countries.
Dont YOU want to be a part of what God is doing?
Melodramatic music played. A video clip was shown of hungry children
with huge eyes, looking up at the camera and holding rice bowls.
Miserable babies cried in the heat. It made Junie Maes heart ache to
see such suffering. A woman stirred a pot as listless toddlers lined up
for their daily helping of porridge.
Junie Mae sometimes wondered how much of Brother Leachs
donations actually reached those poor people overseas, but she was
mostly interested in how she could get her own miracle.
More emotive music followed. A woman sang her heart out as Brother
Leach extended his ringed hand and kept pleading for partners to
covenant with him to make a difference in lives around the world.
The Rapture could come any moment, saints! the preacher cried.
Dont ya see? All your earthly treasures will go up in smoke someday
if you dont invest em in the things of God! But if you buy stock in
Gods Kingdom, all your treasures will be laid up way beyond the blue
and theyll be safe on the other side. Give what you have to help us
help others around the globe. Seedbag Ministries is a faith ministry
that counts on YOU! And if you persuade that aunt, uncle or grandma
thats been materially blessed to include us in their will and use that
money for Gods glory before they pass on, then your precious loved
ones will be investing in their own salvation.
Even as God
remembered all the precious gifts given by the Roman centurion
Cornelius in Acts Chapter 10, He will remember the sacrifices your
unconverted loved ones make to the Kingdom of God. Man, God will
go out of His way to save your precious loved ones, just like He did for
Cornelius, if only theyll share their substance with this worthy work of
God. Saints, please, please please persuade your relatives to take a
tiny step of faith towards Jesus. Their eternal destiny depends on it!
35

And right here we have Dr. Flavil Broadman, Chief Chair of Geological
Forensics at Marmaduke University. Dr.Broadman, were proud to
have you here on the Seedbag Sowers Show. Tell me, do the findings
of your research team substantiate the Biblical allegation that hell is a
place to be feared?
A bespectacled man in a purple suit shook hands with the preacher
and warmly greeted the TV audience. He rubbed his chin. From a
rational, objective perspective, Brother Larry, our findings should fill
the viewer with awe. Our team traveled recently to the remote village
of Birkenstock, Siberia to conduct some tests at the site of a deep
natural shaft in the earths crust.
Ultrasound data we gathered
indicates that this volcanic shaft extends thousands of miles below the
crust, or top layer of the earth. In fact, this fissure sinks thousands of
miles down into the earths mantle.
Using remote control jet
propulsion technology, we launched a robotic data-gathering device
deep down into this remarkable rip in the fabric of the earth, and our
device is now gathering precious data in a spot close to the earths
magnetic core.
Does this new data collection technology have any particular name,
Dr. Broadman? inquired Brother Leach.
Yes, Brother Larry. Our Subterranean Camera-assisted Robotic
Explorer is is called the SCARE. And what an appropriate name it is.
You wouldnt believe what we discovered down there! All I know is
this: if I didnt believe in a devils hell, Id reconsider after hearing and
viewing the scientifically documented evidence weve accumulated.
Brother Larry smiled piously and lowered his eyes. Our sister Belinda
Cotter will sing us a song and then well continue to dig deeper into
this vital truth.
Junie Mae bit her nails. The entire show was only thirty minutes long,
and twenty minutes had already elapsed. Hopefully, the song wouldnt
be a long one.
After the song, which seemed to go on forever, Dr. Broadman rambled
on about his experience in the science of data analysis.
His
monotonous mutterings filled up precious air time but inspired no one.
Near the end of the program the eminent professor of geology let
everyone know his DVD of shocking revelations was being made
freely available to faithful supporters of Seedbag Ministries.

36

Brother Larry thanked Dr. Broadman for his enlightening lecture and
announced: To every supporter who sends in a $2000 donation this
week, well send not only Dr. Broadmans shocking DVD on hell, but
well also send free of charge his new book: Scary Excursions in the
Devils Domain.
Plus, well send you, free of charge, our vast
collection of Its SOW Good! Victory DVDs. As an added bonus, well
throw in a DVD of the Holy Land trip Minnie and I made twelve years
ago, when it was still safe to visit that part of the world. Youll journey
with us through King Hezekiahs Tunnel. Youll take a camel ride with
us as we explore the streets of Old Jerusalem and stop at a snack
stand to witness to the locals. You even get to see me being stoned
with stale falafel balls just because I made a few boo boos when I
practiced my Arabic. But seriously, saints, please persuade your Aunt
Bessie or Uncle Joe to sow seeds to secure their own salvation! No
one knows how much longer theyve got to live. If they will honor the
Lord with a sacrificial gift, He will meet them halfway and do
everything in His power to get them saved. Saints, you NEED these
precious DVDs to prepare your family for the terrible days ahead.
As Larry Leach signed off, Junie Mae breathed hard. The only member
of her family who had any money was her wealthy Aunt Fibula. But
the old lady was reputed to be as tight-fisted as a heavyweight boxer.
Junie Mae rifled through a shoebox full of family memorabilia till she
found the long-distance phone number. Little beads of sweat formed
on her forehead as her shaky hand dialed the phone, hoping against
hope Aunt Fibula was still at that number.
Hello, Aunt Fibula? Junie Mae breathed.
Who IS this! demanded a sharp voice on the other end.
Why, its your great niece Junie Mae, you know, the daughter of your
niece Clara.
Dont know if I remember you much. Havent seen hide nor hair of
you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Whats up, Junie Mae?
Has your mother gotten divorced yet?
No, Aunt Fibula. Daddy died two years ago. Junie Mae tried to hide
part of the truth without actually lying. There are needs which need
to be met, and I feel so desperate right now.

37

Aha! the sharp old lady cried. You couldnt care less about ME!
Honey, you arent the first long-lost relative who came looking for me
in time of need. What is it you REALLY want?
Like a spider spinning a web, Junie Mae chose her words carefully, and
choked on them like a polished actress. Jamie, my son, hes real
smart, and we cant afford his college education. Jamie could be a
doctor if he had the opportunity, Auntie Fibula. He could be a lawyer.
But Phil got laid off last year from Rocket Sprockets, and work is
drying up in this area. Jamies a wonderful boy, Aunt Fibula. He
mustnt be denied his chance in life just because times are bad.
Aunt Fibula was nobodys fool. After a few more questions about
Jamie, which Junie Mae fudged, she asked: Could I meet Jamie, Junie
Mae? Ill personally pay Jamies air fare if hed like to spend a few
days visiting me in Florida. He could meet a lot of long-lost cousins
who are his own age
Junie Mae abruptly hung up. Yes, Jamie WAS capable of becoming a
lawyer or a doctor. But that wasnt Jamies bag. For the past year,
Jamie had been busking the streets of faraway Frisco trying to break
into the music business. No grammatical lie had been uttered by Junie
Mae, but falsehood had been conveyed to the mind of the listener in
an effort to get seed faith money.
Oh, phooey! Junie Mae grumbled. Ive just gotta get that big
collection of DVDs! Ive just gotta find out what hell is like! I only
need two grand!
At that moment, some scripture-twistin imp reminded Junie Mae of a
story in II Kings Chapter 4 where Elisha asked the poor widow: What
do you have in your house? and subsequently a miracle came into the
needy ladys life. Junie Maes face cracked into a smile. Aha! Thats
the same story Pastor Gary tells us over and over again at church! Its
in the Bible, so Ill use whats in my house to get my miracle!
All Junie Mae had to hock was cheap costume jewelry, and an expert
could definitely tell the difference. But waitthere was Phils shotgun,
which he seldom used. And Phil had a wealth of old first edition comic
books, kept in his old army footlocker! Why, they dated all the way
back to the 1930s, 40s and 50s, and had been passed on to him by
his dad! And Phils old Elvis records! Not to mention Phils antique
Robby Robot and his Motorola Juke Box, still in mint condition! They
were all stashed away in the cobwebby attic, long forgotten. Junie Mae
38

could hock them at the pawn shop, and long before Phil noticed they
were missing she could redeem them once her miracle harvest came
in. And, she reasoned, wasnt feeding the hungry more important than
hoarding up treasures in this earth?
All night long Junie Mae wrestled with her conscience. But she had
become so addicted to seed faith gambling that once Phil walked out
the door in the morning she went to work on her scheme. She called
the pawn broker, who actually got excited about her vintage treasures.
The man agreed to come out to her house at four oclock, about three
hours before Phil was due home from his house painting job.
Junie Maes heart was in her mouth as she peeked through the blinds
and saw the big white van pull up in her driveway. Cordially she
invited the man in and led him up the attic stairs. The pawnbroker
told Junie Mae hed carefully appraise each piece before finally
agreeing on how much money he could loan her. If he liked her stuff
enough, he said, he might offer to buy the whole lot outright for his
auctioneer business.
Junie Mae showed the man an antique radio. It still works, she said,
and I can prove it. She waded through a pile of junk and located an
electrical outlet. Good. The old cloth-covered cord wasnt too frayed.
Junie Mae plugged the radio in and fiddled with its old buttons till she
cut through the crackling static and found a clear station.
The radio was going loud and clear when an old pickup truck pulled
into the driveway. Junie Mae couldnt hear it because of the radio and
the remarks of the pawn broker. He liked the music so much he
turned it up louder. I was crazy about this song when I was a kid, he
said. Lets Go Steady Again reverberated throughout the house as
the pawn broker boogied away. What an odd character, Junie Mae
thought as she pulled comics out of the old war chest.
As the music played, Junie Mae showed the man some old DC Comics.
Thrilled by the treasures in the attic, he sang: Cmon, baby, lets go
steady again!
WHAT IN BLAZES IS GOING ON HERE! a big voice boomed.
But, Phil, you werent supposed to come home for three hours Junie
Mae began weakly.

39

I forgot my spackle gun and caulking! Phil cried. So who is HE, and
what are you two doing up here?
He only wanted to see your antiques, Phil! Junie Mae cried.
So what ELSE did you want to see? Phil demanded, his eyes bulging
with fury.
Look man, the pawn broker pleaded. I wasnt after your woman
But you WERE after my Wonder Woman comic books, and Superman,
and Green Lantern, and Batman! Phil fumed. And you dont know
how much those old valuables mean to me! Phils face was red as a
beet and his fists were on his hips. He looked scary to the pawn
dealer, who was barely half his size.
Terrified, the man shoved a pile of old magazines in Phils pathway,
making him stumble long enough so he could scamper down the stairs
and make a run for it. But to his dismay, he found his van blocked by
Phils pickup. Scared out of his wits, he revved up the van as Phil
bolted outside demanding a further explanation. The man made a Uturn in the front yard, squashing some flower beds. Phil ran after him,
rapping on the back of his van and yelling about pulverized petunias.
The white van roared down the road. Phil scratched his head and said,
All I was trying to do was talk, for Petes sake!
Why do you think he got so scared? he asked Junie Mae.
Well, you have been shaving your head lately, and youve got such a
sunburn it made you look madder than you actually were.
I WAS mad, Junie Mae. What was I supposed to think, seeing
another man dancing in the attic with my wife?
Oh, Phil! she cried. For Petes sake, he was old enough to be my
dad!
But hes still got a few good miles left in him!
He was only checking the radio to see if it worked, and he just
happened to like that particular song, thats all.

40

And maybe I happen to like the stuff that belongs to me! Phil
reminded her. Just because its up in the attic gathering dust doesnt
make it any less precious to me!
Youre lucky I dont hit women! he hissed. Whatre you, crazy or
something, selling my stuff behind my back?
But, Phil, I wasnt selling it, only pawning it, as collateral for a $2000
loan! The preacher on TV promised hed send a big stack of free
DVDs free of charge to anybody who sent in a minimum donation of
$2000, and that offer expires in just a few days! You never used that
junk anyway, Phil, and once the Lord multiplied the money back I
could have redeemed it all out of pawn!
Thats still stealing, Junie Mae!
you that?

Or didnt your preacher ever teach

But I wanted to get Larry Leachs DVD and find out what hell is like!
she blubbered.
All I know, Junie Mae, is if I ever catch you trying to sell my stuff
again, youll REALLY find out what hell is like! And how anybody could
ever think their love gift of third-rate DVDs is free when youve gotta
send in a $2000 donation, and the way you were gonna get that
money
Oh, please, Phil, dont be mad at me! She backed away from him.
Have I ever laid a hand on you, or anybody else before, Junie Mae?
Fact is, I feel sorry for you! Youre no different from those drug addicts
I saw walking the streets of L.A.! Theyd beg, borrow or steal to get
their next fix, and religious gambling just happens to be your habit!
Phil, I thought you were a Christian
So you think Im no Christian just because I expect others to respect
my personal property, and just because I can see through those
religious pimps on Prey TV? THEYRE the ones in danger of going to
hell, Junie Mae, the way they mess up peoples minds! Theyve turned
the good Lord into a routlette wheel, a bookie to be paid off with bucks
any way you can get em, just like gangsters out in the real world!
Gangsters? her eyes widened.

41

Yeah! They tell people in so many words: Send us money or God will
let you rot in your troubles and forget you exist. Pay up, people, or we
wont tell you what hell is really like! But THEY know what hell is like,
Junie Mae, and every time they come on that TV and make a pitch for
money they show you the true meaning of hell! Hells full of liars,
swindlers, and parasites like they are! I get mad sometimes, Junie
Mae, but at least I go out every day and earn an honest living by the
sweat of my brow! Those leeches on Prey TV, the only sweating they
ever do is if the camera lights get too bright! The day I hear of one of
those religious cons actually using their own two hands to build
something, or do an honest days labor, or even cleaning their own
bathroom, is the day hell will freeze over.
*****
It wasnt a week later before Junie Mae got a distress call from
Roxanne. My mothers flipped. She took money shed saved for new
dentures and actually sent it to Brother Bradley Bellows on Prey TV!
You dont say! Junie Mae gasped. Tell me more.
My mom has been in constant pain from slipping dentures. But
Brother Bellows did his song and dance routine on TV as usual.
Anyhow, his latest line is this: Sacrifice more and youll reach the
Lord And: Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. Hes saying that
its when the sacrifice hurts the worst it proves Gods about to move.
And what could hurt my poor mother more than sore gums? So Mom
made one last gamble of faith with what little she had left. But things
only got worse for her, believe it or not. The electric company just
turned off her juice, and me and Eddie had to bail her out. But we
dont have the money for her dentures.
What are you gonna do, Roxanne?
I feel like were up against a brick wall. Anyhow, I did some digging
and got the number of a close associate of Brother Bellows.
I
explained that my mother gets carried away sometimes, but she made
a terrible mistake sacrificing her badly needed denture money, and
could they please refund it as an act of Christian charity?
What did he say?
When hell freezes over.

42

$$$$$$

PAY UP, PARDNER!


Ed Egghead was a simple soul who wanted to have his very own
church. Ed couldnt afford to rent a place to hold services in. Eds
friends didnt have much money either, but they all decided to start
the church anyway.
For several weeks Ed, his wife, and three other Christian families
gathered in the den of his large home. Since they were all personal
friends, Ed didnt mind the relaxed, informal atmosphere. Everyone
just enjoyed being together, sharing from the Word, singing, and
sharing their testimonies. After each service they would gather round a
table and enjoy coffee and a snack. Everyone would always be
decently, but casually dressedjust like a close-knit Christian family.
Then, like a bombshell, everything began to change. Ed showed up
one night in a starched white shirt, black suit, pinstripe tie, and shiny
black shoes. His wife wore a strand of pearls and a charcoal gray
tailored suit. She entered the room stiffly. The others looked antsy.
Hey, Ed, his best buddy Rupert said. Whats up? Are you guys on
your way to a funeral?
No, Brother Rupert, Ed said stiffly. And if its all the same to you, Id
prefer if you called me Pastor Edward and my wife Sister Edwina.
You gotta be jokin right? Millie Morris said. Edie, she said to Eds
wife, were still best friends, arent we?
Edie smiled primly.
Surely, Mildred.
Youll always be highly
esteemed in my personal affections. But if were to conduct a proper
church service, the proper protocol must be observed. In informal
social settings, you may still address me as Edie. Within the confines
of the sanctuary I prefer that you address me as Sister Edwinaout of
respect for my husbands newly acquired position of authority.
Hey, whats goin on here anyway? Brother Mike demanded.
Enough of this joke already! Hey, man, Im worried about you guys!
You didnt even crack a smile!
Sit down, Brother Mike! Ed rebuked. Youre way out of order!
43

As a bewildered Mike plopped back down on the sofa, Ed stood aloof


from his former friends. Edie brought in a tall college professors
lectern. Thisll do for now, Ed said. When the cash starts rolling in
Ill get me one of those solid redwood pulpits from Sacred Supply
Center. And furthermore, were gonna chuck out all this furniture. If
were gonna be a real McCoy church, well have to ACT and LOOK like
a church! That means starting next week, I wanna see all the men and
boys duded up in suits and ties and all the girls and women shining in
their best Sunday attire!
But why the suits and ties, EderBrother Edward? inquired Rupert.
Because Brother Peso on TV taught me this: If you dress for success,
with money youll be blessed. But if you wear a sweater youre no gogetter. So wear a tie, guys, if you wanna make it and be a money
magnet.
The other men looked at him like he had flipped, but said nothing.
Eds wife soberly added, From now on, unless a special occasion
necessitates the provision of refreshments, they will no longer be
provided. Church services have as their chief end the sustenance of
the soul, not the gratification of physical appetite. You may all dine in
your own homes before services commence each week.
Everyone moaned. Ed said, Shes right, everybody. The apostle Paul
did say: Have ye not homes to eat and to drink in? Were trying to
cut a few corners for financing our new church, so we really dont need
any freeloaders herenot that anybodys been one. Ed got some
stony looks.
What I meant to say is this: Coffee and cookies only draw our
attention away from the rich spiritual food Ill be providing each week.
Paul said, Let all things be decent and in order, and I dont think Paul
approved of turning church into a big coffee break! All the more
reason why weve gotta grow up and get the pews and go get us a real
building. And I dont think Paul would have kept Lazy Boy Recliners
and bean bags in his sanctuary! Right now, all I can afford is a few
folding chairs, but at least theyll all match. Wont be long, well buy a
pew or two to match that fancy new pulpit I ordered by faith.
What do you mean, you ordered that pulpit by faith? Mike asked,
looking suspicious.
44

Thats perzactly what I meant, Mike! I have faith in YOU that youll
do the decent thing and get me that brand new Soul of Inspiration
Redwood Pew! Just like suits and ties attract cash, pews made from
majestic redwood trees inspire majestic sermons!
Since wed all be chipping in to pay for the pulpit, do we all get to use
it to share our testimonies from? Rupert wondered.
Ed coughed. Sharing is KID STUFF! Thats what IM here for, people!
Theres only room for ONE preacher in this particular pulpit, and his
name is Edward Egghead! IM the guy who almost graduated Bible
school, not you! And the only reason I didnt finish was I had a cash
flow problem!
Which reminds me: If you mean business about having this church,
you guys will have to spring for new church furniture, AND youll kick
in a few grand so I can go back and get my degree. You guys need a
pastor you can be PROUD of.
Chilly silence. Edwina, Ed said stiffly, Please bring up the new
offering bag you bought today. We only bought one bag, saints, but at
least its a step of faith. As our church gets bigger, well buy a bunch
more of those fancy bags.
Edie daintily handed him the single blue velvet bag, which was
attached to a wooden handle.
Cmon now, Ed! Brother Barney called. This is getting ridiculous.
You dont need that thing here! This isnt Westchester Cathedral!
It could be, Ed said, if only youll be more positive and see past your
own nose. To prove your faith, I want everybody to make a vow of
faith tonight that theyll dedicate ten percent of each paycheck to our
new church! Were gonna be a TITHING church!
Are you a Levite? Mike called, out of the clear blue.
Am I a WHAT? Ed looked annoyed. He scratched his head.
Are you a LEVITE?
Everyone hung around for the next hour or so as Mike explained from
the Scriptures that only the Levites were ever authorized by God to
45

collect tithes. Mike didnt delve too deeply into the complications of the
issue, as he didnt feel like starting an argument.
The Levites wore special clothes and the priest wore a bonnet, Mike
said, in a half-joking way. Business suits might make you rich, but
they dont make you a Levite. Unless you wear Levite clothes, dont
ask me for tithes again.
Ed said theyd resume the discussion the following week.
congregation grumbled and threatened not to come back.

Half his

Next week only Mike and his family showed up, formally dressed to
Edies approval. She admitted them and escorted them to the den to
await another service.
What a sight Ed was when he walked in, dressed up in a Western shirt
and brand new jeans! He grinned at Mike from under a Stetson
cowboy hat.
I shore as shootin aint wearin no bonnet! Ed said, holding out the
offering bag. But I am wearin Levi clothes and a Levi hat. Now pay
up, pardner!

$$$$$$

WHAT PRICE SELF ESTEEM?


Summertime at Seedtime Assembly. A season when school kids had
loads of free time on their hands, and the church leadership kept
cooking up exciting events to keep the young people innocently
occupied (and rustle up a little cash for the kitty as well). So many
special announcements were flowing forth from the pulpit these
days, they no longer seemed very special. Car washes, spaghetti
suppers, sack races, church movies, skating parties, ad nauseum.
If I have to choke down any more burnt burgers, mushy spaghetti
and wilted salad, Pastor Joe moaned, Im gonna barf. Honestly,
Darlene, you know full well weve done our darnedest to keep the
young people enthusiastic about church life. But theyre all dropping
out like flies.
Most of them would rather lay in bed than come to
Sunday School. What if their parents also lose faith in me?

46

Darlene hugged him and said, Youre a wonderful pastor, Joe, and
you know it! Your revolutionary new teachings are meeting the
deepest needs of our congregation, and youre just as good or better
than any of those speakers we heard at the seminar. Ive heard so
many dysfunctional people talking about how their personal selfesteem has blossomed since they began to sit under your ministry.
But I dont seem to be getting through to the young people, Darlene!
Every time I ask them to get involved in a church fundraiser, they get
that whats in it for me look on their sad faces. How will I ever raise
a new crop of faithful contrib.I mean, converts, if I dont connect with
the youth?
Joe sighed. I just might as well ask the church board to transfer me
over to Sun City Cathedral, where I heard theres an opening for a
personable, people-oriented pastor who holds a post-doctorate in
doctrinal dissertation. Fact is, Ive already been approached by their
church elders to fill the vacancy in their pulpit. Theres a big increase
in salary and perks in it for us.
Darlene gasped. Sun City is trying to buy you away from Seedtime
Assembly? Why didnt you let me in on that little secret?
Joe shrugged. I was going to, Darlene, but I was afraid youd say no.
I just feel like its time for us to move on to greener pastures. And if
you say yes, things could be so much nicer for us
Joe, Darlene pleaded, wherever you go youll face new challenges.
You cant just run away from them. Just bloom where youre planted.
All I know is, it might be easier for this old crocus to bloom at Sun
City Cathedral, Joe said. Sometimes the grass grows greener on the
other side of town.
Darlene sulked. You know how I hate having to make new friends all
over again, and try to break into the most exclusive church cliques.
And I bet they all wear the finest fashions at Sun City. Im so well
accepted at this church, Joe, that Im scared theyll look down on us at
Sun City. Id far rather be a big fish at Seedtime Assembly than a
minnow at Sun City Cathedral.
So you dont think poor little sardines like us are rich enough to win
over those la-dee-da lobsters? Joe sighed. Ill figure that into my

47

decision. You know Id do anything in the world to make you happy,


honey. Lets take a week to sleep on it.
Fair enough, Darlene said. Lets kiss on it.
Next day Darlene confided in her best friend, Jenny Flagstone, head of
the church youth department. Jenny, Darlene said over a cup of
coffee, weve got to think of some way to keep Joe from defecting
over to Sun City Cathedral. No amount of money is worth pastoring
those horrendous snobs. Its enough of a trial to have to mix with
them at the regional conference, and I just know the ladies there look
down on us just because our church is in a middle-class area. Id be
under their scrutiny all the time. Theyd buzz about my hair, my
wardrobe, my weight
I wouldnt go to that church for all the tea in Swahili, Jenny said. We
dont want you to leave either, Darlene. You just told me the main
problem is how Joe feels insecure about the apathy among the youth
in our church. What if we offered those kids some incentive to want to
get more involved, and at the same time make Joe feel more secure in
his role as pastor of Seedtime Assembly? In personal relationships
therapy thats called positive stroking.
For the next two hours Darlene and Jenny brainstormed until they
cooked up a plan to make Joe want to stay on as pastor of the less
affluent church. In three weeks time the young people would host a
burger cookout, after which they would put on a skit to show Pastor
Joe just how much his teaching had impacted their spiritual lives. If
their performance persuaded him to stay on as pastor of Seedtime
Assembly, their reward would be a week-long skiing holiday on
Eaglebeak Mountain.
What a marvelous idea! Darlene cried. Jenny, its worth so much to
me to persuade Joe to stay at Seedtime Assembly, Ill personally
finance the skiing trip and pay for all the props and costumes. So it
wont need to come out of the church treasury.
Wont you have to consult Joe about this project, Darlene?
What I do with my own personal funds is none of his business,
Darlene replied. Besides, Joes feeling so fragile hed only object. Ill
just tell him the kids are hosting special festivities for Honor Thy
Pastor Day, and Ill tell them to keep the reward part a secret.

48

Jenny stared at Darlene, open-mouthed.


Pastor Day fell on July 28.

I didnt know Honor Thy

I dont think it falls on any day at all, Darlene admitted. But I dont
think Joe will be bothered much about that.
Ill spread the word immediately, Jenny said. Ill even call up the
kids who havent been to Sunday School in a year and ask them to
bring all their friends and family.
******
The church wasnt exactly packed on the night of the performance, ,
but it was at least two-thirds full, better than anyone had expected.
Behind the curtain lights illuminated cardboard Biblical scenery. A
victory chorus played softly from a speaker.
Jenny Flagstone stood before all assembled to announce that after
such a scrumptious cookout, there was to be an additional treat from
the Youth Fellowship. The young people were about to demonstrate
with a drama skit their appreciation for the contribution the pastor had
made to their spiritual development. And, most importantly, the
teenagers, who ranged in age between 12 and 16, had composed the
play themselves. The starring role would be played by a 13-year-old
boy, Buster.
The curtain lifted. People politely applauded the entrance of the first
character. He wore a striped satin robe with a gold sash. Its wide
lapels glittered with rhinestones. On the boys feet were golden
guaraches garnished with garnets. Hi, everybody! he called out in a
squeaky voice. My name is Prosperity Pete! My religion is real COOL!
It teaches me how to be a winner, not a sinner! All Ive gotta do is
wish for fish, and if I confess the best, fish will fall at my feet real
fast! See the diamond fish pin on my 3-piece robe? See my big bag of
bass?
Laughs and claps, then a second character joined him. Like Prosperity
Pete, he was dressed in a three-piece Bible robe ensemble, topped
with a silver glitter turban. He staggered under a burden he carried.
Wish for fish if you wish, Pete he said, but I want cash in a flash. Jet
Set James will set you straight. Just look at the sack on my back. My
faith rakes in more riches than yours does. Nyah! Nyah!

49

Groaning, Jet Set James lowered his heavy sack. I confessed the best
and lookie what I got! James scooped out handfuls of chocolate coins
wrapped in gold foil. He tossed them out to kids watching in the front
row. James laid more treasures on a wooden table: fake jewelry and
plastic crowns, glittery trinkets galore. James tooted on a plastic horn,
drawing laughs from the audience.
Ah, look at this! James cried. A genu-wine arky-ologists prize: a
silver Romanex Laser Beam Sundial!
Man, its cooler than King
Herods Hourglass! Poor Peter, all hes got is smelly fish.
Whap! Jet Set James got slapped on the noggin with one of Prosperity
Petes rubber fishes. Plastic coins poured out of the fishs mouth.
Hey, Pete, James said. I thought our master only needed ONE coin
to pay taxes for the two of you.
Well, my fish hook hit the jackpot, Pete said. Were all going out to
Pizza Hut tonight. My treat.
But Pizza Hut hasnt been invented yet! James cried, as still another
robed character appeared onstage. Hey, theres Thomas. Thomas, is
there a Pizza Hut in this village?
I doubt it, Thomas drawled. But there is a Bagel Barn.
Pete walked up to him and wagged a jeweled finger in his face. Dont
you EVER say that dirty D word again, boy! Confess the best and
youll get blessed, but speak doubts out and youll do without!
But I doubt I CAN stop doubting! Thomas cried.
Stop being a doubting Thomas, James said. I dont wanna catch
any doubt cooties from you! Youre gonna be
TYCOON Thomas
instead. Hey man, you got any bread in your Gucci Bag?
Be positively positive now, Tycoon Thomas, Pete said. Say out loud:
I confess Im fed the fanciest bread, and every dumb doubt drops out
of my head.
Tycoon Thomas lifted the bulging turban off his head, tipped it over
and scattered pink popcorn all over the stage. Faith can cast the
dumb doubts out! Pete and James cried.
And here comes the
BREAD!
50

A kid in a donkey costume crawled onstage, braying and pulling a red


wagon piled high with fake dollar bills. Jet Set James petted him and
said, Some people have got their tooth fairy, and other people have
got their Easter bunny, but weve got our dollar donkey!
As long as Matthew the tax collector doesnt show up, Thomas said
gloomily.
Prosperity Pete whapped him with a fish and said, If you dont believe
you wont receive! If you doubt that donkey the devil will take him
away!
A haze of artificial smoke tricked onto the stage from behind the back
curtain. Then a character in a red suit darted onto stage waving a
plastic pitchfork. He had a pointed hairline, beady eyes and a wicked
goatee beard. His red tights hung loosely on his spindly legs.
Its Old Scratch! Pete yelled. Hes gonna give Tycoon Thomas a
losing lotto scratch card! Thomas, we told you not to confess doubt!
Old Scratch grinned. Ive got a million-dollar lottery ticket here, he
said. You can scratch for cash, and all I ask in return is your dollar
donkey.
He grabbed the donkeys bridle. Leave him be! Pete cried, or my
mom will turn you into devils food cake!
A cell phone went off. Old Scratch answered it. HELL-o, you sly ol
devil! So I should put five grand on Brimstone Beauty at the Palm
Beach Racetrack? Go aheadyeah, yeahso Louie the Louse gave you
an insider stock tip, and the smut markets gonna shoot through the
roof? Buy a trillion shares. Okay.
Old Scratch raised one eyebrow and grinned. You dont saya bunch
of Bible thumpers are gonna bombard the strippers convention with
tracts? Guess Id better head em off at the pass. Adios, Abaddon.
Old Scratch flicked off his phone and let the donkey go. Gotta go
scoot, fellows. Time to do my routine in Vegas. But Ill be back for my
protection money and youd better cough it up! Old Scratch sneered,
then ran back behind the curtains.

51

See? James said to Thomas. The power of positive thinking got rid
of that ho-bag! And the force of my faith brought us the dollar
donkey!
Behind him came another boy dressed in a flashy gold glitter costume
studded with fake jewels. He grinned from beneath a tall plastic crown
encrusted with rhinestones. Before he could introduce himself, a
surprise character darted in from behind the curtain.
A lot of buzzing went on in the congregation. Wasnt this supposed to
be a young peoples play? Who was that middle-aged hobo standing
among themor at least he HAD to be a hobo, for no respectable man
would dare wear a beard to THIS conservative church! The man was
dressed in a torn terry cloth robe. An old bed sheet was fastened on
his head with an elastic headband. A striped beach towel encircled his
shoulders. He wore ripped sandals. He confronted the young king
figure, who whispered, Dad! Get off stage! Youre embarrassing me,
looking like a hippie with a Velcro beard!
The man whispered back: I told you we were changing churches and
you were not to participate in this play! Either YOU quit now, or just
play along with me!
Like a pro, the kid found his voice. He could ad lib. All right! I can
live with that! So Ive got competition, eh? But this town aint big
enough for two messiahs. Whats your game, anyway? You arent
dressed for success, so the crowds dont think youre cool. If people
bought your message, youd be wearing designer gear like me.
What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his
own soul? the ragged actor asked his competition.
Ill worry about my soul when Im an old codger like you! the fancy
king shot back. How can you make a profit if you look like a loser?
With that, the hobo collared the younger king and led him offstage,
with a warning that the star of the show was grounded for two weeks.
Jet Set James, Prosperity Pete, and Tycoon Thomas felt funny. This
just wasnt in the script. Pete looked at the others and said, Guess he
took that beggar to some success seminar. You guys wanna go
fishin?
Sure, Pete, replied James. Your yacht or mine?
52

Well toss on it, but first lets remember we wouldnt have no yacht if
it wasnt for the good old pastor teachin us how to get one.
The three boys grinned and waved to sprinkled applause as people
buzzed about the missing main character. To smooth things over,
Pastor Joe walked onstage and shook the kids hands warmly. His wife
and
Miss
Flagstone came up and thanked the entire Youth
Department for their moving performance.
The pastors eyes misted over with tears. I was wrong to even think
about giving up and going elsewhere to pastor, he choked. Tonight,
through a surprise twist in the performance, I am once again reminded
of our need to stay true to our beliefs, even in the face of family
opposition. They say the proof is in the pudding. All this quibbling
over doctrinal error only divides the church world, and the fact so
many have been set free from poverty through correctly applying the
Word of God ought to silence our critics.
But, sadly, jealousy causes many to reject sound, sensible teaching
derived from the Word of God. A wonderful new revelation in the
church is being attacked by narrow-minded stuck-in-the-muds who are
way too stubborn to get with Gods program and take advantage of the
new thing He is doing in the earth. This new generation coming up
needs to know how to get Gods best, and if we fail to show them how,
then negative, outdated Biblical stereotypes will continue to
perpetrate. Kids, its so wonderful to know youre loved and valued.
Pete shrugged. Too bad Buster didnt get to do more in the play.
But really, Pastor, Buster didnt even look the part, what with his ski
nose and all.
Hey! James piped up.
trip!

You wasnt supposed to mention the ski

Tycoon Thomas gave everyone a vacant look. I doubt well get to


go now.
******
Act Two happened in Pastor Joes home. The whole sordid story came
out about how the kids had to be bribed to put on that special Honor
Thy Pastor event.
You deceived me! Joe yelled.
53

So sue me! Darlene yelled back. All I did was sow a little seed to get
my miracle so I wouldnt end up at Sun City Cathedral!
And here you had me thinking those kids truly loved me! Joe looked
crushed. All they wanted all along was to get something out of us!
And just WHO taught them that? Darlene retorted.
All I want is for people to love me and value what I do! Joe cried. I
want them to love me for ME, not for what they can squeeze out of
me! Is that so wrong?
Youve said it yourself, Joe, a million times! Does any farmer plant a
seed without expecting a big crop for his hard work? Well, what goes
around comes around! Do you really expect people to love you and do
church work for nothing just because its such an honor to serve good
ol Pastor Joe?
Joe looked plenty steamed. You take that back right now, Darlene! If
it wasnt for me and the good salary I get, youd be wiping tables in
some restaurant! Remember my last two wives
Darlene looked worried. She ran to the bedroom door, blocking his
exit. Joewait! I wasnt talking about ME, honey, just other people!
Yeah, right! Joe yelled.
A loud cry came from the crib in the adjoining room. Oh, please, Joe,
you just woke little Lisa, and shes teething
I dont care! Joe boomed. Weve started this, so lets have it out
right now! Im still young enough to find somebody who appreciates
me for who I am!
Darlenes face crumpled. She clutched his sleeve. I beg you, Joe
stop! I know Im not the prettiest, or even the smartest, woman you
could have found to marry you! Youre the most wonderful man on
earth, and even if you werent, Id still worship the ground you walked
on! She reached out for him.
Well, youve got a mighty funny way of showing it! Joe moved away
from her. The very idea, filching money out of the church activity fund
to reward a few spoiled teenagers
54

Thats not true! Darlene chided. I wasnt going to tell you, but I
spent two thousand dollars of my OWN money to provide the ski trip
for the kids who worked on this special evening. I could have bought
myself a new dress with that money, but oh, no, I wanted to do
something to prove my love for YOU!
Joe melted toward her. Oh, sweetheart, I was only kiddin! Youre
wife number three, but youre the one for me! NOBODY loves Pastor
Joey as much as my darlin Darlene. Ive had a change of heart too.
Youre right, dearie. Nothing would be solved by our transferring to
Sun City. Ive just enrolled in a Human Empathy seminar. If I want
people to have more faith in me and grow with our church, Ive got to
learn better people skills to win them over. Then youll have a
husband you can really be proud of!
Thats my boy! Darlene giggled. Youre worth the money, honey.
Lets say our bedtime prayers now, Darlene, Joe said. Dear Lord,
Ive done my best to airbrush my image so I can be the perfect pastor,
but theres no sense wasting all that effort on Seedtime Assembly.
Please help Darlene see the light about Sun City Cathedral. If she
REALLY loved me and deserved me, shed be willing for us to pastor
there so we can go get the lifestyle we really deserve. Amen.
$$$$$$

Prosperity Pandemonium
A Sunday School Spoof About Kids Who Want Proof
One day a prosperity preacher had to take over a boys Sunday School
class when the regular teacher was home sick with a migraine. Heres
how it went:
"What did you mean, Pastor, when you told everybody in church
they could bring forth money by travelling in birth with it?" little Billy
asked.
"The word is travailing, Billy. When you want wealth you just
imagine its inside of you before it pops out where you can see it," said
the pastor, pointing at his midsection. "Just like before a baby is
born."
"Well, maybe my mom didnt imagine hard enough," said Billy, "or
Id be made of paper and she coulda gone shopping with me."

55

"Well, maybe next time, Billy. But let me tell you. The power of
faith is so great it can bring boatloads of blessings into your life. I
drive a brand new BMW."
"Does your wife drive too?" tow-headed Tad asked.
"Yeah, she drives me crazy till I let her take the wheel."
That cracked everybody up.
"Even my clothes closet is bigger than some peoples homes," the
pastor bragged. "The Bible says: God has set my feet in a large
room."
"With a little help from that scarecrow you talked about in church?"
Billy piped up.
"Thats escrow, Billy. We went into escrow with the mortgage
company to finance all our church building programs, including the
new parsonage."
"Then why not skip the praying part and just go to them?" Tad
ventured.
"Because it takes a bit of prayer to prime the pump to get the
givers to give in church. Otherwise the well would run dry. Id end up
so poor Id have to buy all my familys clothes at the church thrift
shop."
"That would be weird," said Hank, a skinny boy with huge brown
eyes. "Your kids havin to buy back their own stuff."
The pastor looked more closely at Hanks threadbare jacket and
faded jeans. "If I werent so prosperous, Hank, I wouldnt be in a
position to be a blessing to others. Hey, my sons about your size, and
hes just cleaned out his closet. Why dont I bring you a sackful of
designer duds next week?"
Hank looked round at the other boys, some of whom were
smirking. Squaring his shoulders, Hank said: "Dont need em, pastor.
We aint so poor."
"Well, just look at your clothes, Hank. What kind of wealth does
your family possess?"
"I bet you dont have as many cars as weve got jacked up in our
front yard," Hank said. "My Uncle Gus is always layin underneath em
fixin em up to sell to the neighbors."
"At least hes putting a little elbow grease to his faith," said the
pastor. "And the day just might come when your uncles faith grows up
to my level and he can enter into the rest of faith and cease from his
own works. All I have to do is confess what I see through the eye of
faith and it comes to pass." The pastor pointed at his forehead.
"Remember what I told you about how faith brings the object of your
desire into the realm of sight. Thats very similar to giving birth.
Thats called faithing your desire into manifestation. "

56

"Ill try and do that till church is over," said Billy. And if I faith hard
enough, maybe itll give birth to a new Play Station before I get home,
but I sure do hope I dont have to go to the hospital like my mom did
when she had me."
"Well, If her faith had been more focused, your poor mother would
have been at the mall instead of the maternity ward with you, said the
pastor with a wry smile. "Lets discuss a real example of Biblical
prosperity, class, someone whose faith took him all the way to the
palace. David was a very rich man, and he got that way by faith."
"Didnt David hang out in a cave, Pastor?" little Joshua asked.
"Well, yes, Joshua, but only for a little while. You see, David was
only camping out on his vacation, taking a break from the rat race like
any tired businessman would do. Poor people cant afford to go
camping. David said: He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
So green is the color of prosperity."
"Well, what about that wino I saw in the park, Pastor?" asked a
red-haired boy. "Is he rich? Hes always laying around in a green
park. Is a park a pasture?"
"In a manner of speaking, Rufus. But generally you have to have
lots of greenery in your pocket to put a little color in your pastures.
One of the biggest lies of history is this notion that Jesus was poor
while He was on earth. My, Jesus was so rich he fed 5000 people out of
His own pocket. Billy, what did Simon Peter do when he saw that 5000
people were hungry and needed to be fed?"
"Maybe Peter pulled out his Masters Card and took them all out to
McDonalds," Billy answered, proud of his cleverness.
"You kids are really enjoying this lesson," said the pastor. "King
Solomon was rich too. What sort of blessings did he have? Yes,
Joshua?"
"He had 300 wives and 700 porcupines!"
"Thats concubines, Joshua. Now what else did Solomon have?"
"A kid named Rebox." another kid answered.
"Thats Rehoboam, Troy. Now somebody tell me why Solomon was
so smart."
"He had lots of wisdom teeth!" Rufus cried.
The pastor grinned and shook his head. "Time to get serious, boys.
Now Im going to teach you all about giving. The more you give, the
more you get back. Thats one of the laws the Lord set in motion and
it always works for me."
"You wanna make yourself even richer by whipping out a twenty so
I can get a new CD, pastor?" Billy excitedly asked.
"Well, why dont you guys give first, and then Ill think about it. Its
time for the Sunday School offering. Time to put what we learned into

57

practice. You can learn and learn until the cows come home, kids, but
faith without works is dead."
The boys dug out their dimes and quarters and dutifully plonked
them into the offering plate.
"Come on," said the pastor, frowning at the lone dollar bill in the
plate. "Dimes and quarters are kid stuff. Give like a grownup man or
you wont get a decent return on your investment. Ill pass the plate
around one more time."
Like most of the other boys, Billy was dressed for success. He
pulled something off his neck and put it in the plate.
"Quit clowning around, Billy. Whats the idea?" The pastor looked
peeved.
"I gave what you always ask my dad for, Pastor. Ties and
offerings."
$$$$$$
RELIGIOUS RACKETEERS

Narrated by Tex the Longhorn Steer


Taken from my book:
Big Bucks and the Boogerman
If Peter, James and John could peek down from heaven and watch
some of the carnival clowns passin' themselves off as
Gospel
preachers, they would wonder how those varmits could'a got past the
watchmen of the church to twist the faith once delivered unto the
saints spoken of in Jude verse 3. Guess the watchmen of the church
must'a been dozin off on the job, huh? Used to be a preacher was so
poor and hungry he could smell chicken fryin' clear across the county.
Now he can sniff a hundred-dollar bill from a distance of ten rows and
ten aisles.

58

I heard tell of one evangelist that goes around braggin' about


how much fun he had, swimmin' around in his own money, in the back
of his own stretch limo. He tells his mesmerized audience to say a
bunch of confessions after him, like a class of first-graders learnin'
their ABC's. Not only that, this guy holds his stomach, then tells his
people to pretend that they're about to birth a calfor was that a kid?
Only, it's money that's supposed to pop out of 'em. Outside of his zany
meetings you'll usually find a herd of protesters carryin' picket signs.
Signs that say Jesus said not to lay up treasures on earth, but to make
sure they got wealth in heaven. Them radical, idealistic protesters try
to talk sense into brainwashed pew-warmers who go in there to throw
their money at this flashy preacher, and they tell 'em all he wants is
their money so he can buy another jet plane. But ain't no use tryin' to
talk sense to a Christian starstruck with preacher puppy love. That's
just like tryin' to tell a thirteen-year-old Romeo that his blond teacher
won't accept his marriage proposal.
Cody has gotten lots of weird-lookin' Junk Mail for Jesus lately.
A Miracle Prayer Rug" arrived in the mail a few weeks back. There
was a picture of Jesus plastered on it which opened and closed its
eyes, and it looked up at Cody oh, so, sweet when he laid it on the
floor and told it his money troubles. Cody was supposed to rush it
back with his best offering, and only a mean ol' cuss could say "no" to
that precious picture! Cowboy Clayton walked in on Cody cause there
aint no such thing as privacy in a ranch bunkhouse. Clayton got
tickled when he saw Cody pourin' out his heart to a sheet of paper on
the floor. Bein' as Clayton was already there, Cody told him what it
was. Now Clayton sure ain't no angel, but he said that any preacher
who believed in the Jesus of the Bible wouldn't reduce Him to a tabloid
centerfold churned out in some Chinese sweatshop. Cody might be a
weird dude sometimes, but even he had to agree with Clayton on that
one. Cody admitted that it gave him the creeps to watch that picture
open and close its eyes like a haunted kaleidoscope. So he tossed
Brother Bizarre's prayer pallet away and crossed him off his prayer
partner list.
Another mail-out Cody got came with several colors of papers and
envelopes. Cody was supposed to fill each of 'em out and send 'em on
different days of prayerwrapped around his best offering, of course!
Gotta give those rascals
credit, though! Real sneaky of 'em, gettin'
more than one cash hit out of each mail-out! Saves a heckuva lotta
postage, huh?
Those leeches even hit dead folks up for money. Cody told me his
Grampaw Bill still got dunned by a profiteer prophet every few weeks.
Anyhow, the sales pitch he got in the mail went something like: This
is your special month of miracles. Dont let the Lord pass you by.
59

We've had a long shootout with satan in the prayer corral on your
behalf, and God wants you to know that if you don't strike while the
iron is hot and send in some cold hard cash, satan's gonna barbeque
your carcass over a slow bed of coals in the comin' year. Man, your
luck'll be so rotten that all the bad years you've seen up to now will
seem like a Sunday school picnic.
Bulltwinkles! Grampaw Bill's been pushin' up tulips for two whole
years!

The profiteer prophets who told the late Grampaw Bill that satan was
out gunnin' for him are worse than hit-and-miss phone psychics! Any
burger flipper who got it wrong half as often as those fortune tellers
would'a been sent packin'! How patient the good Lord is! How on
earth could satan hassle a guy who died and went to heaven unless
the watchmen of the Pearly Gates goof off on the job like the
watchmen of the church are doin'! Seems to me like the devil comes in
mighty handy for varmints who want to collect protection money to
keep Old Scratch off peoples backs. But seems to me that's a nice way
of sayin' this: "Man, we got the devil on a leash and he's mean as a
pit bull robbed of his steak bone. Either you pay up or we'll turn Ol'
Scratch a-loo-o-ose on you! Pledge a grand on your credit card and
God'll give a hundred grand back. Why spend money to fly to Vegas
when Reverend Roulette runs a better casino on Prey TV?
Slick trick fishers for funds sell heaven on earth to poor folks up to
their neck in bills.
Then they'll scare people with hellfire and
60

damnation in the hereafter to ransack their pockets! Big bucks and


the boogerman. They'll either use a carrot danglin' off a long fishin'
pole to keep the dumb donkey goin' to give 'em an easy ride, or they'll
use that same fishin' pole to whack him on the noggin with. Man,
those pick pocket preachers sure do serve the Loot! They see church
people as cash cows to be milked to the last drop.
Those carnies in $5000-suits turn God like a Las Vegas slot
machine...put in a ten-spot and out pops a thousand! The Cross of
Christ goes out the door and millions stampede their way into the
Casino of Christ, knockin' each other over to get their chance to throw
big bucks at some spit-and-polish preacher who'll sell 'em six keys to
unlock God's blessingsor was that seven, I lost count! Then when
their leaky ship capsizes before it comes in and they're deeper in the
hole financially than ever before, they'll write the preacher back askin'
where in heck their 500-fold blessing is. Chances are, they'll get a
form letter back, with their own name electronically pasted in the right
slots. It'll tell the poor slob to keep showin' how big his faith is by
sowin' more seed into the ministry, 'cause the bigger the trial of faith,
the sweeter the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Satan has sold
'em all a sugar cone full of lies. The Sovereign Lord of the Universe is
expected to mo-o-ove over and make room for a hocus-pocus god
invented by pulpit parasites. The god of the Gospel of Get is called
the Force of Faith. And that make-believe god of gold and goodies
sits on the Throne of the Candy Kingdom of Pie-in-the-Sky-before-Idie. Man, that Santa Claus Force of Faith is gonna make all your
dreams come true. for the right price! Bulltwinkles!
Flocks and herds of good religious folk have rushed their Defeat
the Devil Donation to their mail boxes to try and beat the deadline
before the TV preachers Special Season of Anointing expires. Surely
that smiley face on the TV will pray a custom-made prayer just for that
sick lady who is about to be evicted from her fleabag apartment. After
all, it costs nothin' but a few seconds of your time to yawn at the Lord
to please bless so-and -so. Nobody in their right mind would have the
guts to ask the preacher for MONEY, just prayer. But it's one of the
preacher's perks to dun you for YOUR money, 'cause he's the big shot
in Religionland, and you're just a poor churchmouse on welfare, eatin'
your macaroni and cheese TV dinner while he makes his pitch. Oh,
sure, he'll pray just for you. But unless you're chummy enough with
him to play golf with him on Sunday afternoon, God won't be lookin'
for any angel express faxes from him on your behalf. A big cheese
televangelist gets fan mail from zillions of folks on a daily basis, and
they're read by a bank of Brainiac robots, no doubt. It takes just as
much faith to think Superpreach can find a minute to read your letter
as to believe jolly ol' St. Nick can drop off toys to every mansion,
61

mobile home and tar paper shack on earth in just one night. But give
Superpreach credit, y'all. He does remember to close his show with
We sure do love you!
Just what does Superpreach mean by love anyhow? What if some
poor peon out in TV Land launched out into the deep and didnt slow
down enough to pray for Gods guidance before mailin' the rich
preacher his rent money? What if some jobless sucker ended up
sleepin' under a bridge just 'cause he did some so-called act of faith
God never told him to do? After all the boatloads of dollars that man
sent in to the grinnin' TV preacher over the years, would that far-off
face send the man so much as a dime to keep him fed and off the
street? And if, as Superpreach preaches, God always shells out a 100fold return on your investment, why don't that Super doper Preacher
prove HIS cotton-pickin faith by payin some poor suckers rent before
the sheriff throws him out onto the street? Listen here, folks. If that
fancy dude on TV really did believe that bull he preaches, he'd hop
onto the first plane to Anywhere, USA and personally see to it that
man was taken care of. He'd do that even if he didnt give a flip about
that homeless guy!
What about this Scripture, the same medicine Superpreach rams
down the necks of poor folks? James 2:20 says: Faith without works
is dead. What gives Superpreach the idea that the hard-to-swallow
part of God's Word is only for pew warmers out in TV Land? Why don't
those fancy TV preachers sell some of their extra cars, jewelry and
antiques and hand out the proceeds to agencies that house the
homeless? For that matter, why don't they start an emergency rent
relief fund for poor families about to be thrown out of their homes, if
they really believe their own sales pitch: The more seed you sow, the
bigger your harvest. The greater the sacrifice the bigger the blessing.
Why dont they get off their fat duffs and put that bit of Bible into
action?
Instead you hear about pampered poodles livin' in air-conditioned
dog houses, gold bathroom fixtures, first-class jaunts to the Holy Land,
stables full of thoroughbred Arabian horses, nine-bathroom mansions.
I should'a had it so good when I was weaned on dry sagebrush in
Cowpoke County, Texas. Yeah, those fine fishers for funds have got
plenty to lavish on dumb hound dogs and horses, but nothin' to waste
on people who don't have a fine pedigree. Oh yeah, once in awhile
you'll see 'em handin' out dolls and candy to little kids in grass shacks.
It sure does make a good photo op to prime the pump and keep the
proceeds rollin' in.
Cody was readin' his Bible one Sunday as he stretched out in the
hammock. I moseyed over to say "hi" to him. While he petted my
muzzle I spotted this verse in his Bible, and I wonder why Cody
62

missed it. It's part of Proverbs 22:16: "He that giveth to the rich shall
surely come to want. Folks who pamper the rich aren't promised an
easy ride, they're promised a hard ride right off the cliff. All I care to
say about that verse is it means what it says, and bein' ignorant of the
Bibles warnings never protected anybody from the consequences, and,
believe me, they can be awful bad. Cody always seems to be broke. If
God did allow somebody to get rich quick for linin' a rich preachers
pockets, He would only be goin' against that Bible verse. God never
did like bein' used for a slot machine. Preachers love to quote proverbs
that promise wealth and prosperity, but why don't they ever preach on
Proverbs 22:16?
Now folks, somethin's mighty fishy here. While some fancy-dancy
preacher and his fairy princess wife shed crocodile tears over starvin'
babies in the third world, performers dance and sing on their gold
glitter stage, and they won't quit their caterwaulin' till the tote board
racks up the figures they want. But take a close-up view of those
people's hands. Perfect nails, nice jewelry, no calluses and smooth as
a baby's bottom. If those folks had to do just one hard day's work on
the Cowpoke Ranch, they'd think they'd died and gone to Torment.
Every Saturday night after the chores are done the rest of the
cowpokes go into town to chase women. But not Cowboy Cody. He's
glad to have the bunkhouse all to himself so he can flick on Prey TV.
Me, I just hang around in the doorway to watch it too. And Cody kicks
back in his bunk after a hard day of ropin' and brandin' calves. He
rubs salve on his aches and pains and tries to forget how hard life is
for workin' stiffs who use their muscles instead of a snake charmer's
tongue to earn a livin'. Cody used to find it harder to say "no" to
beady-eyed rattlers who'd bamboozle him with religious hoodoo to try
and get him to pledge half his month's wages to keep their show on
the air. Little by little the scales are fallin' from Cody's eyes and he's
wisin' up to their game, but I'll never forget what happened one day
when Cody was cleanin' out his Army Surplus footlocker.
Cody thought he was all by his lonesome in the bunkhouse. Bud,
Garrett, and Zack were at the race track, and Cody thought Clayton
and Chester were there wastin' money with 'em. Aside from the fact
Cody hardly had two nickels to rub together, he didn't believe in
gamblin'or so he said! At the last minute, Clayton and Chester
decided to come back to the bunkhouse with their dates Misty and
Cindy, so they could guzzle beer while they watched steamy videos.
None of 'em saw me on the other side of the bunkhouse, peekin'
through the window and catchin' every word that was said.
Cody almost jumped outa his skin when all of a sudden the
peaceful bunkhouse turned into Grand Central Station. A lot of Cody's

63

junk was spread out on the floor. A big garbage bag was there, but he
acted like he didn't want to throw much of anything out.
"Hey, what's that itty-bitty stuff? Did ya save it from your kiddie
meals at Bronco Burgers?" Clayton stood over Cody, about to bust out
laughin'.
"How cute," Clayton's gal Misty giggled. "Cody's toy box. Hey, can
I have that one?"
Cody shook his head. "It's my St. Peter's Key Ring. Brother
Snodgrass from Prey TV sent it to me. See these seven keys? I had
to send in a special, one-time offering of seven dollars for each of 'em.
They stand for health, wealth, happiness"
"Oh how cute!" Misty laughed again. "The same three wishes
Sleeping Beauty got from her fairy godmother!"
"There's more," Cody said. He cracked everybody up, he looked so
serious. "This key chain is a perpetual testimony of the part I played
in savin' Snodgrass Ministries from goin' under. Brother Snodgrass
personally prayed over it to bless it for me."
"You can bet he said grace over the money you sent in," Chester
drawled.
"What other junk you got in your foot locker, Cody?" Clayton asked.
Why, you could hold a yard sale and get back some of the money you
sent Brother Snodgrass."
Cody looked steamed. "Don't you never poke fun at my stuff,
Clayton."
"Aw, Cody, we're only funnin' ya! Hey, what's that rock by your
shoe?"
Cody held up the shiny lump. "This here is Brother Farley's Nugget
of Wisdom, and it's 24 karat gold. It only cost me one hundred and
fifty dollars. He said paper money ain't gonna be worth much before
long, and Christians had better invest in gold so they won't go hungry
when the New World Order takes over."
"Mind if I see it, Cody?"
Cody handed it to Clayton. Clayton held it up to the light, then
took a pocket knife and scraped away at the shiny lump.
"Hey, what're you doin', Clayton? Give that back right now!"
Cody looked thunderstruck when he saw how green the "gold"
looked underneath the thin layer of gold paint Clayton had scraped off.
"I tried to warn ya, Cody," Clayton said. "When the New World
order takes over, that fool's gold won't even buy ya an order of fries!"
If ever a cowboy looked crushed, Cody did. But he took his
disappointment like a man. He hunched his shoulders and said, "Here,
Misty, take the key ring. And here's a packet of salt from King
Solomon's Mines. And here, Cindy, a vial of water from King David's

64

Well. Clayton, you can have this replica of the slingshot that killed
Goliath."
Clayton grinned. "It's just a shoestring with a rubber patch on it!
What were you gonna kill with this, Cody? A fly?"
"It just stands for the fact that my faith can move the mountains in
my life just like David was able to blow the mountainous giant Goliath
away. That's what Brother Reedy said."
"Well, you can start by movin' that mountain of manure outa the
bull pen before the smell blows all us cowpokes away," Clayton said..
"I've got seniority on this ranch, so I ain't gonna do it, Cody."
"Well, la-dee-dah!" Cody shot back. "A fine time for you to pull
rank on your own buddy."
"Just be a good egg about it and I'll treat ya to Chinese this
evening," Clayton said.
"What's in that little plastic pouch?" Cindy asked, hardly believin'
her eyes.
"It's a tiny bit of meal that Brother Sweetgum prayed over. It
symbolizes my faith in God's provision. I'm supposed to sleep two
nights over it, then"
"Mail it back with your best offering!" Chester finished for him."
"Is it Blue Ribbon Self-Risin' Cornmeal, Cody?" Clayton grinned.
"Don't matter what kind it is, them preachers wanna turn it into real
BREAD!" Clayton twiddled the fingers of his outstretched hand. "At
least Brother Sweetgum's learnin' patience. Just think, Cody, you get
two whole nights to sleep on it instead of just one!" Everybody laughed
but Cody.
"What's this?" Clayton was havin' fun now. He stooped down and
picked up a small leather bag that had a drawstring on it.
"That's my Sower's Seed Bag I got from Brother Slater." Cody
looked like he could sink through the floor, with the gals gigglin' at him
and Clayton snickerin'. Even soft-spoken Chester coughed to pretend
he wasn't laughin'.
"Well, what're you gonna put in that little tote bag? Magic
mushroom seeds?" It really cracked Clayton up. He had a raucous
laugh that rubbed Cody the wrong way.
"AhI'm supposed to sign my name on it, put a gift in it and send
it back to Brother Slater," Cody said.
"Hey!" Clayton cackled. "I've got a GOOD gift to send Brother
Slater from Brother Sucker!" Clayton fished somethin' out from under
his bunk and stuffed it in the little bag.
Cody wrassled it outa Clayton's beefy hands and said, "There you
go, desecratin' my Sower's Seed Bag with your smelly sock!"
"Ooooh! Lookie at this," ditsy Misty yelped. "Cody, you freak me
out! Are you such a tightwad that you even save the mess you scrape
65

off your boots?" She held up a Ziplock bag which contained a love gift
from a TV preacher.
"It's Dead Sea mud," Cody growled through his teeth. "I got that
after I sent Brother Tucker a fifty-dollar donation last month."
"Can I have it for my beauty shop?" Misty begged. "It's great for
doing a facial."
"Yeah, Misty, you might as well have it. It's better to give than to
receive."
"And can I have this?" Cindy pointed at a little vial of oil.
"I don't know if it'd do you much good, Cindy, bein' as you gotta
mix faith with it when you dab it on," Cody said.
"Otherwise you
won't get a miracle."
Cindy popped the tiny tube open. "Mmmmit smells like
cinnamon! Can I have it to dab onto my pillow to help me sleep?"
"Might as well," Cody shrugged. "Ain't nothin' so special about it
now."
"What's THIS?" Clayton's face lit up as he picked up a plastic
boomerang.
Cody choked on his words. "A replica of Samson's jawbone of a
jackass."
"Made for jackasses in TV Land by hard-workin' mules in thirdworld sweatshops that pay fifty cents a day," Clayton said.
"I should'a expected persecution from you, Clayton," Cody said. He
looked hurt. "Callin' me a jackass like that!"
"Well, it takes one to know one," Clayton said. "When I was a kid
Billy Barton traded me a magic moon rock for my U2 collection. Said
that rock would bring me good luck on tests. Boy, but I bellyached for
a long time after I still flunked my English test and got two "D's" on
my report card."
"Trouble with you, Clayton, is you never trust nobody who claims to
represent God."
"Cody, I can't afford to buy the sizzle till I see the steak. Be sure
the steak's really there before you shell out the cold, hard cash."
"Ooooo!" Misty squealed. "I'm havin' so much fun! Just like I was
a little kid playin' the gumball machine!" She picked up Cody's brass
angel pin and his TV preacher recipe cards. Cody nodded when she
asked if she could have 'em.
"One last question, Cody," Clayton said. "Mind tellin' me what that
little green hanky is for and why all them names are scribbled on it?"
He pointed to a cloth wadded up near the foot of Cody's bunk.
Cody smiled in his shy cowpoke way, tryin' his best to be a good
sport. "Aw, it's just somethin' I was supposed to mail back by
tomorrow. See all them other names scribbled on it? Other people
wrote on it so Brother Snodgrass could say a prayer for all of 'em, then
66

he sent it on to me. I'm supposed to write my name on it, then send


it back to him so he can pass it on to somebody else."
"Sorta like a chain letter on a hanky, huh?" Chester chuckled. "And
I suppose the magic won't work unless you wrap the cloth around your
best offering?"
"That's right, Chester. Unless you give, you won't receive. I don't
practice a cost-free Christianity."
"Well, them preachers see to it that your religion costs you plenty,"
Clayton said. He looked at the cloth real close. "How come the
handwritin' all looks the same on Brother Snodgrass's hanky? Even
the ink color's the same. I think that preacher's playin' you for a fool,
Cody, and I bet he blew his nose on this hanky before he sent it to
you!"
"Brother Snodgrass wouldn't be that mean!" Cody yelled, pretendin'
to be mad.
"Better listen to us, Cody," Misty said. "My granny got suckered in
by some TV preacher that sells life insurance. He called it Blessed
Reassurance for over-50's, I think that's what it was.
It went
something like this: If Granny signed over a big hunk of her estate
over to
Brother Berrygood, they'd send her a commemorative
medallion to pass on to her offspring when she died.

And all the world would remember what a kind, decent soul she was
for bequeathin' her earthly treasure to Berrygood Ministries. And once
she signed the contract Granny could come stay at the Berrygood
Christian Resort for free for fourteen days a year. Well, it's been four
years and they still can't book a time slot when Granny can come there
for a vacation. Granny'll be six feet under before they keep their end
of the bargain."

67

"Maybe they could just stick Granny in the broom closet," Clayton
shrugged.
Misty punched Clayton in the arm. "That's mean! Granny might be
a little addled, but she got burnt bad by that guy, and it means the
rest of us won't get as much when she leaves Planet Earth."
"You mean YOU won't make much off her when she goes," Clayton
said, as if he really cared.
"The moral of the story is this religion stuff is all a bunch of
crackpot mumbo jumbo, Cody," Cindy said. "Any idiot can spray paint
a rock and pass it off to some sucker as a gold nugget."
"And not all that glitters is gold," Chester warned him.
Cody begged to differ. "I know that fake gold nugget must look
bad to y'all, but you can't throw the baby out with the bath water.
There's bound to be sincere preachers out there who ain't in it just for
the money. And if they need my help, I'll do all I can to keep 'em on
the air."
"Look, Cody," Clayton said. He patted Cody on the back, tryin'
hard not to laugh, since they'd already worked him over real good.
"Seems to me like any preacher who wears real gold jewelry and
drives a fancy car doesn't need no help from some poor cowpoke who
sleeps in a seedy bunkhouse.
"Well, maybe it's just costume jewelry they wear, Clayton. People
who appear on TV have gotta look presentable."
Clayton rolled up his eyes. "Costume jewelry my foot! Yeah, sure,
Cody, they're doin' it all for you, to pretty up your TV screen! For
Pete's sake, wake up, man! Jesus drove the mother of all yard sales
outa the Temple when He was on earth, and I don't know why He'd
need junk peddlers in His House now!"
Why is Cody such a soft touch? Why wouldn't he wake up and
smell the rotten fish in Denmark? How many hungry kids could those
"humble servants of God" feed if they sold some of that ritzy jewelry
they wear onstage? Cody's work pardners are reprobates who need to
get on the straight and narrow track. They poke fun at him for takin'
his religion too seriously. But then they'll try and talk some sense into
Cody so he won't go off the deep end and hurt himself. They tell him
he'd better not hold his breath waitin' for his windfall to come in for
the big seeds he sows, 'cause the preachers already have it stashed
away in their bank vaults.
Always think twice before trustin' preachers with your money. God
just might tell you to donate to some cause on His heart. But if youve
got good reason to suspect that somebody who promises to feed the
hungry and bring billions of souls to Christ is really usin' your hardearned dough to buy an extra ocean view mansion with a crystal
68

chandelier, a pool room and nine bathrooms, think twice before you let
him milk you dry.
$$$$$$

Heres another cud to chew on, taken from Texs repertoire:

Bucks in the Belfry


Cows ain't the only ones that lie in green pastures. Preachers do too,
and lots of lyin' gets done to keep their pastures green. But the worst
of 'em want to hog it all, so they keep other folks from eatin' their fair
share. This ol' boy pushed the good Lord past the limits of His
patience.
Rev'run Randy, as his countryfied church chums called him, was
scared stiff. Was that really him standin' next to his own body? "It's
not fair! Slim! Slim!" Randy bellowed. He ran over and jabbed the
arm of his buddy, only to see it go through Slim like an X-Ray.
"Slim, ya gotta help me!" Randy begged. "I'm only 37 years old! I
can't die yet! Get down on the floor and make me breathe again! You
gotta bring me back! Oh, please! I'm not ready for heaven yet! I've
got way too much living left to do!"
Well, ol' Slim, he wasn't much help. All he did was run around that
ritzy restaurant like a chicken with its head cut off, yellin' for
somebody else to help. That pie-eyed little feller was too nervous to be
much good in an emergency. The jazz musicians stopped playin' and
stared. People stopped eatin' and looked at Slim, but most of 'em were
aggravated at him 'cause their dinin' atmosphere was bein' ruined by a
medical emergency. Finally a tall man in a blue suit came out of the
reception lounge and said, "Let me get a look at him, I'm a physician."

69

The man got down on his knees, held back the head of Randy's big
body, pinched his nostrils, and blew in through his mouth over and
over again. When Randy didn't come around, the doctor opened
Randy's suit jacket. He rubbed Randy's chest real hard, hopin' to
jumpstart his heart.
There was one man who'd just sat down with his family to eat. He
wondered why Slim didn't calm down enough to call for help. The man
pulled out his own cell phone and called an ambulance to come quick.
Once he put his phone away, he whispered something to his wife, then
came over to talk to Slim.
"Excuse me, sir, my name is Jake," the man said. "Care to tell me
how this happened? Did he choke on his food or what?"
Slim's teeth chattered like crazy and he could barely spit a word
out. He fidgeted like a bull strapped in a coach airline seat. He looked
so scared that Jake worried he might get in the doctor's way and make
things worse for Randy. Somehow Jake got Slim to come out to the
lobby, sit down and take a deep breath. A waitress brought them both
a glass of ice water.
"Okay now, sir, just talk to me awhile," Jake said Your friend is in
real good hands, and there's nothing further either of us can do about
this. Just talk, if that helps. How did it happen?"
Once Slim stopped hyperventilating he said, "He tried to eat and
talk at the same time, Jake. Only trouble, he got to laughin' so hard
he choked on his crab meat. I went behind him and whacked him real
hard on the back and he spit the crab out, but it didn't help him none."
By this time Slim was cryin'. "Instead of snappin' out of it, he just
blacked out and hit the floorhard. He's my pastor, sir. His name's
Rev'run Randy and I'm his senior treasurer, Slim Barton. I flunked
English in school, but I got a real head for figures and ever'body gets
along fine with me, so I'm sort of an unofficial public relations man
between the congregation and the pastor. We were here havin' a bite
to eat so we could have a private powwow about how to increase
donations."
"So your pastor might have been so upset he didn't fully recover
once you cleared his windpipe?" Jake wondered. "How weird. Is your
church going under financially?"
"Not atall, sir, but our church board's been runnin' a contest to see
which congregation
can raise the most money this fiscal year.
Whichever church wins, gets a gold-plated steeple with a digital sound
system for the belfry. Now our Rev'run Randy, he just ain't one to
settle for bein' second best and I wonder if job stress finally did him
in." Slim brushed a tear from his eye.

70

"So you think he got so stressed out his ticker just gave out?" Jake
asked. "How tragic, he looks like he's twenty years younger than me,
even if he is a whole lot bigger."
"Don't none of us know when God'll take us," Slim moaned. Slim
looked like he'd collapse any minute too. "Oh, Lord, please"
"I'm a Christian too, Slim," Jake let him know. "Been one for
twenty-odd years."
"That's wonderful, Jake. I just hope you never lose your first love
and turn away from Christ. It's way too easy to get led astray by the
wiles of filthy lucre." Slim's eyes showed how scared he felt for Rev'run
Randy.
"Why don't we pray for your pastor, Slim?" Jake offered. "Prayer
would help Reverend Randy, and it would help us, too."
Slim blinked. "Don't know that it'd do much good, Jake. Know
what he was talkin' about when he keeled over in his chair?"
"Was it something bad?"
"Yeah, real bad. Truth is, Rev'run Randy's been worried sick that
the church board'll get on his case for failure to maintain diz'pline out
in the pews."
"Sounds like your Reverend Randy must have been a military man
at one time or other," Jake said. I've gotta keep him talking, he
thought, so he won't go to pieces.
"Well, yes sir, he sure was. He was a drill sergeant in the service,
he said once. And boy, you sure can tell it by the way he's been arunnin' the church lately."
How's that, Slim?"
"He's cracks down real hard on deadbeats who don't tithe."
"WellI've got my own opinions on that subject, Slim, but we can
discuss that later. What I want to know is what your pastor was
talking about before he blacked out."
"It was the craziest thing, Jake. He took a bite of crab gumbo and
said, "My word, this stuff's so good I feel like I already died and went
to heaven." Slim got to snifflin' a little. "Well, anyhow, Rev'run Randy
got to makin' fun of all the poor famblies in our church who eat cheap
hot dogs while he gets steak. He poked fun at the Davises, a big
fambly with eight kids who eat macaroni and cheese ever' night. He
said some purty mean things, Jake, things he'd never dare say in
church. He said poor people churn out enough rug rats to man the
Russian army, and it ain't his fault poor people have big passels of kids
they can't pay for. And Rev'run Randy said that just 'cause they got all
them kids, it don't mean they shouldn't give him his rightful dues in
tithes and offerin's ."
Jake just couldn't believe it. "So we have a real live Scrooge
among us."
71

"Live, Jake? He'll be lucky to be a live Scrooge after some of the


things he done. Right before he fell over, Rev'run Randy bragged to me
about how he got a-hold of Sister Jones' savin's. Now, Sister Jones,
she was the last hold-out against tithin' and so Rev'run Randy made it
a little game to see if he could make her feel guilty for withholdin' her
tithes and get all her money for back payments. Well, he went over to
see her Sattidy night and preached her such a hellfire and brimstone
sermon that it weren't long before he had her on her knees a-beggin'
Rev'run Randy to forgive her for stealin' his tithe money. And if that
ain't bad enough, Sister Jones is a widder woman who's got six kids,
and ever' time you see 'em they all look hungry. She'd been a-savin'
up for five years to scrape up enough money to buy herself a whole
new set of false teeth. But Rev'run Randy hassled Sister Jones so
much she felt like the selfishest sidewinder in Texas. Well, sir, that
poor lady forked over all'a her tooth money just to get him off her
back. But anyhow, Rev'run Randy was a-crammin' his face full of crab
gumbo and a-laughin' and a-slappin' his knee real hard about how he's
so smart he can scare the teeth out of a poor widder woman's head,
and like the queen bee once said, if she's too poor for corn bread let
her eat soggy cake. Then he just keeled over, fell outa his chair and
landed on the floor. I swear, Jake, I tried to get him to ease up on the
poor folks out in the pews, but all that man ever did was crack jokes
about how nice it was to have his own gang of blue-collar slaves goin'
out to their jobs week in and week out to keep him sittin' purty on
cloud nine. You know the plastics plant has just finished layin' off a
bunch of workers, and the car factory's gone belly up. But rain or
shine, Rev'run Randy made his people tithe. Said the Lord would
make their lives mis'rable and whup the tar out of 'em if they didn't."
"Slim, I think we'd better go ahead and pray for your pastor," Jake
said. "He needs the opportunity to consider his ways and repent before
it's everlastingly too late." Truth was, Jake was worried that Rev'run
Randy's heart failure was God's judgment on him for makin' a mockery
of the poor. Still, Jake didn't want Slim to lose heart.
Before the two men could bow their heads the doctor came to
break some sad news. "I did what I could to save your friend, but he's
gone. Apparently it was a massive coronary. I'm very sorry."
Unseen and unheard by any visible soul, Rev'run Randy knelt over
his body and screamed "NO! Let me back in! Doctor! Come back!"
Well, that apostate preacher felt like a sumo wrestler had a hold of
him. Somethin' dark and horrible pulled him away from the lifeless stiff
which was already on its way out the door on a stretcher. Whatever
open window there'd been for gettin' back into his own body had been
missed by Rev'run Randy. Where he ended up was scarier than the
Cowpoke County Jail, that's for sure. Poor Rev'run Randy, he knew his
72

Bible well enough that he realized he wouldn't be let out of his holdin'
pen for a good 1,000 years. That's one heck of a stint on death row.
Even when Rev'run Randy gets sprung from that place, he'll be taken
to God's Great White Throne Judgment to stand trial for all his dirty
deeds. And if his name's not written in the Lamb's Book of Life, he'll
fry in the biggest barbeque pit outside the State of Texas: the Lake of
Fire.
So now let's take the story up a few weeks later. Poor Sister Jones.
It was the first of the monthalready. Her blinds were parted to see
who might be knockin' on the front door. Not the landlord, the poor
widow woman could live with that. You'd expect sinners to act like
sinners, but to see saints act like sinners is a whole different ball
game. There she was, right on schedule. Sister Hopkins from the
church finance committee. This time somebody else let her in.
Sister Hopkins wasn't too thrilled to see him, but tried not to show
it. Wasn't it HER job to take care of this? "Brother Slimahwhat a
surprise to see you here. Would it be better if I just called on Sister
Jones tomorrow?"
"Nope. We were expectin' you to drop in," said Slim. "You come
here ever' month like clockwork, to excort Sister Jones down to the
bank to cash her welfare check, just so you can get first dibs on it
before she buys food for her fambly."
"Well, what's that to YOU!" Sister Hopkins snapped.
"It's got ever'thing to do with me, sister. Or, at least it did. I was
the senior treasurer at your church before Rev'run Randy told me
you'd been a-comin' by ever' month to badger money outa poor Sister
Jones."
Sister Hopkins got hot under her high collar. "I should think you'd
thank me for making your job a bit easier. Such ingratitude."
"I never did give you no permission to worry Sister Jones in her
own home, and you know it!"
"Ah! So it's perfectly all right for you to worry people at church by
reminding them to pay their tithe, but not in their own homes? What's
the difference, Brother Slim?"
"The difference is, I don't never wanna worry nobody about nothin'
no more. I'm a changed man."
Sister Hopkins got all huffy."Really! You look the same as you
always did."
"Sister Jones," Slim said, "show Sister Hopkins how purty your
teeth are."
Sister Jones smiled her prettiest for Sister Hopkins.
"Well, what of it?" Sister Hopkins looked ticked off.
"Sister Hopkins," Slim asked her, "can you eat without any pain?"
73

"Sure can. I've got a good set of teeth."


"Well," Slim told her, "before I helped our sister out, she wasn't
even able to eat oatmeal without pain. Know why? 'Cause our dearly
departed pastor bragged about how he hoodwinked her outa money
she'd been savin' up for years to get her new teeth. How would YOU
like it if ever' time you tried to eat somethin' it hurt real bad? Ever
notice how skinny our sister is, Sister Hopkins?"
Sister Hopkins patted her high hairdo and said, "I don't make it my
business to pry into such matters, Brother Slim. And nor should you."
"But you sure don't hesitate about stickin' your nose in Sister
Jones' pocketbook, do you?" Slim said, squarin' off to her. "Month after
month after month you'd come here to make sure her welfare check
didn't make it to the supermarket to buy food for her hungry kids
before your fat pastor took out his tithe money so he could go on
shoppin' sprees, take a nice vacation, play golf and eat at the King
Crab Restaurant."
Sister Hopkins got mad. "How DARE you talk about our late pastor
like that, and his body isn't even cold in the ground yet."
"Well, he may'a been YOUR pastor, but he sure as heck ain't mine
no more. Not after all the hell he put our people through."
"Swearing on top of your disrespect! Brother Slim, I'm on my way
to report you to the church board for blaspheming against God's tithe.
I don't know how on earth Reverend Randy ever put an ignoramus like
you in such an exalted ministry of our church."
"I don't expect you to think kindly of me no more, sister, bein' as
we're on different sides of the fence now. But before you go cryin' to
them fat pharisees, just level with me. Did you know anything about
Rev'run Randy scarin' the tooth money outa Sister Jones?"
Sister Hopkins smiled real catty-like. "Who do you think gave him
the idea? I told him it was like pulling hen's teeth to get these people
to tithe on time. And I told him how Sister Jones sometimes skipped
tithe payments because she was saving up for her dentures. Well, I'll
have you know he said to me: 'Never send a woman out to do a man's
job, Sister Hopkins. When you talk to somebody who's stubborn you
must put some teeth to your words and hang on like a pit bull till you
get what you want.' So Reverend Randy personally came by here to
admonish Sister Jones about the arrears on her tithing. Now, Sister
Jones, isn't it high time you spoke up for yourself? Jesus died on the
Cross for you. The least you could do is pay a paltry tithe out of your
welfare check. Won't you come along with me to the bank to take care
of this matter?"
Now Sister Jones had once been the most submissive doormat in
church. But she moseys on up to Sister Hopkins and says, "The Bible
says: 'Let the children FIRST be fed.' A man name 'o Brother Jake
74

came by and taught me and Brother Slim God's real truth about tithin'.
It's a lie outa the pit of hell to make a Christian starve his fambly to
pay the preacher. And as for Rev'run Randy preachin' to us about
Ananias and Sapphira droppin' dead, he found out in a hurry what God
thought of him usin' that Scripture like a devil's pitchfork to torment us
with!"
"So what are you insinuating, Sister Jones?" Sister Hopkins' face
was red.
"Brother Slim told me how Rev'run Randy choked on his own words
as he made fun of me and all the other poor folks at church. That's
when he keeled over."
"God didn't take Reverend Randy's life and you know it!" Sister
Hopkins pointed an accusin' finger at her. "He didn't choke on words,
he choked on a bite of crab!"
"But I already told ever'body how Rev'run Randy spit the crab out,
but he still died anyway!" Slim said. "Just ask the coroner. Rev'run
Randy's blood pressure was sky high. He was way too heavy and his
ticker gave out from laughin' too hard. God took him, Sister Hopkins."
The good sister's eyes flashed fire. How DARE you!"
"Well, it's high time SOMEBODY dared," Sister Jones said. "After all
the lies I've been fed about how mean God is to poor folks, and how
God so loves rich preachers that He tells us to give our last dime unto
them, I've finally woken up and sunk my teeth into the real truth. You
know it's just as plain as the nose on your face. If anybody's actin'
like Ananias and Sapphira, it's you folks, lyin' to God's people about
how it's okay to devour widder's houses, and do it in the Name of the
Lord."
"If you had any sense you'd fast and pray for forgiveness!" Sister
Hopkins yelled, waggin' her finger in the poor lady's face.
"I already done my fair share of fastin'!" Sister Jones hollered.
"I'm skinny as a gumstick 'cause Brother Randy took my tooth money
from me, and I couldn't eat hardly nothin' till Brother Slim took pity on
me and gave me money to pay the tooth dentist to make me my new
dentures!"
Sister Hopkins got an evil look on her face. "What's that man
doing in your house to begin with? Everybody knows it's a sin to keep
company with somebody else's husband!"
"My wife already knows where I'm at," Slim said. "She's back
there a-puttin' food in Sister Jones's cupboard and her kids are aplayin' at the park with my boy! I swear, if you ain't out a-lookin' for
money, you're out a-lookin' for juicy gossip!"
"At least Brother Slim come by here to GIVE me somethin'!" Sister
Jones put in. "Not once do any of you uppercrust Christians ever stick
your nose in my door except for when you want money outa me!
75

When I got sick last year and lost my job, we would'a all starved to
death if it hadn't'a been for the community food bank. What help did
we get out of Y'ALL? After all y'all've put me through, Sister Hopkins,
if y'all are any example of what bein' a Christian's all about, so were all
them Pharisees Jesus yelled at for devourin' widders' houses!"
"That was a cheap shot!" Sister Hopkins hollered. "Next month is
the end of the fiscal year, and all the district churches will turn in their
financial reports to the church board. Now, Reverend Randy wanted
that golden steeple, and no matter what I've got to do to win it for him
to help him rest in peace, I'm going to do it!"
Slim let out a big sigh. He just couldn't believe it. Spiritually,
Sister Hopkins was blind as a bat. "Sister, don't you get it? Rev'run
Randy ain't with us no more. A gold steeple won't be much use to him
now. It won't add one iota of credit to God's account book on his
behalf."
"It's more credit than YOU'VE laid up in God's tithing storehouse
lately," Sister Hopkins said. "I sneaked a look at the books and you
skipped the last couple months."
"My son needed new braces," Slim said. "And my sister here, she
needed new teeth. Go chew on that."
Sister Hopkins shook her fist. "You'll go to hell for this! Unless the
two of you pay God what you owe, I'll fast and pray until He sends the
curse of Malachi Chapter 3 down on both your houses!"
"That's witchcraft, Sister Hopkins," Slim said. "Why should God do
your dirty work just 'cause you give up your pint of Ben and Jerry's?
Besides, from where I'm standin' you don't look much like God, so why
should we fork it over to YOU?"
"Now, I'll thank you, Sister Hopkins, to get outa my house before I
forget I'm a Christian woman," Sister Jones said. From now on Brother
Slim and me will be takin' our famblies over to Brother Jake's church.
And don't none of you religious panhandlers never come by here to
leech off of us again."
Slim stepped between the two ladies, because Sister Hopkins
looked like she wanted to take a swing at Sister Jones. "May God strike
you all dead!" Sister Hopkins said in her most self-righteous voice.
Slim shrugged his shoulders. "Sorta makes me wonder which god
you're a-callin' on to begin with. And talkin' like that, Sister Hopkins,
you might just as well hop onto your broomstick and fly back to
wherever you came from."
Sister Hopkins stormed off the front porch and swore that she, for
one, would honor the pastor's memory by continuing on in his
tradition.

76

Now what was Rev'run Randy up to all the time this ruckus was goin'
on?
Talk about muzzlin' the ox that treadeth on the corn. Rev'run Randy
felt like he'd fasted for a million years, he was so hungry. Every time
he bit down on the red, juicy prickly pear he picked off the cactus
bush, it would sprout stickers and make him feel like a porcupine
invaded his mouth. A mean-lookin' monster would hand him a
hamburger. But when he tried to eat it, a tooth would break and make
him bellow in pain. Rev'run Randy's throat was dry as dust, and it
seemed like all the food in sight had cactus stickers all over it, if it
wasn't hard enough to break his teeth.
A grinnin' devil would come by and offer Rev'run Randy a tall, cool
glass of water. But when he tried to drink it, fire would roll down his
throat and make him scream. Rev'run Randy's hot, parched hide
needed moisturizin'. He'd see a cool swimmin' pool and go jump in,
only to get burnt by molten lava once he hit the water. Rev'run Randy
cussed himself over and over for swappin' His cup of salvation for a big
bag of bucks.
Maybe Rev'run Randy realized he'd been mighty dumb to sell his
own soul for a gold belfry. And it came to pass that he stewed over all
the things said to him at the Great White Throne Judgment. The good
Lord had let Rev'run Randy know he was worse than those religious
rattlers He'd chewed out in the Temple. Why? 'Cause Revrun Randy
had been shown much more light than they had. The reprobate
preacher was branded for time and eternity as an even worse traitor to
Jesus than Judas Iscariot, that polecat who'd sold his own Lord for
thirty pieces of silver. Rev'run Randy saw, in livin' color on a big
screen video, people who'd turned their backs on Jesus because of the
way he'd turned Him into a money-makin' racket. Rev'run Randy was
responsible for three nervous breakdowns in his congregation. He was
behind the breakup of two marriages which collapsed because of how
he'd pressured cash-strapped couples to give, give, give. Worst of all,
Rev'run Randy had been branded from the Great White Throne as a
son of satan whose life testified to his love of filthy lucre. And just
before he went to his final reward, a big angel had told Rev'run Randy
that anybody who hurt God's precious children and didn't repent of it
would never stop payin' for it. Every persecutor of God's children
would roast in the Lake of Fire forever, from Cain, who killed his
brother Abel, to Nero, who fed Christians to the lions. Hitler would be
there. Every cruel kingpin in history would be there, and that went for
pulpit pharaohs, too.
Lots of thinkin' gets done in hell by folks who wished they'd'a done
more of it in the land of the livin'. Never a moment passed but
77

somethin' would make Rev'run Randy's heart sink all over again. He'd
grab at fool's gold in hell, only to see it turn to burnin' coals in his
hand. Nothin' for him anymore but lots of pain and disappointment,
the kind that makes a guy pine away inside. But what goes around
comes around. Hadn't Rev'run Randy withered one widow's joy in the
Lord? Hadn't he preached a different Jesus than the one Who'd saved
that dear saint's soul? A make-believe, mean one Rev'run Randy used
to preach to filch the funds. Hadn't Rev'run Randy argued away the
light of God's Word which sets folks free, just so he could rope 'em and
brand 'em and break their spirits to keep 'em as slaves to serve his
own lusts? Rev'run Randy wanted darkness in life, so he was bound to
have it forever in death.

Now, don't y'all never buy nobody's bull when they talk with a
forked tongue to make the Bible say somethin' different than what it
really does say. Christ has set you free. So don't pay no heed to
religious cattle rustlers who try to make you stray outa God's green
pastures with their long-winded lies. They only wanna fence you in so
they can milk you dry, before sendin' you to the slaughterhouse.
Check out the Bible for yourself to see what it really says.
$$$$$$

The Lovele$$ Landlord


based on a real-life Scrooge, names changed
Major Hardy beamed with pride. But why was his escorting angel so
solemn, as if he were ignorant of the majors distinguished service
record? The tall, wiry soldier was due to give His Lord an account of
his life. Having delivered so many eloquent Christian testimonies
during his sojourn on earth, he hoped his comportment during this
meeting would be worthy of the prestige he had earned in the Marines.
Surely the Master would be impressed by Major Hardys exemplary
record of service on earth. He had received the highest
commendations his nation could bestow upon him. In the years before
he died the retired officer would pull out his fat portfolio of medals for
bravery and distinguished service and show them to his grandchildren.
But this time the major hoped for a much more worthy decoration:
one which would endure throughout eternity. This disciplined soldier
who had reviewed many platoons on parade was about to be reviewed
himself, and by the Supreme General of the Armies of Heaven.

78

As the angel flew Major Hardy upward to higher levels within the
Celestial City, the light grew ever more intense. It seemed to go right
through you, as if nothing were hidden from it. Though unblemished
beauty filled the vast panorama before him, Major Hardys courage
began to falter. How far are we from the Throne Room? he asked
the angel.
The angel eyed a mountain peak which glimmered like a diamond
overarched by a rainbow. It will not be long now, Major, he said. He
eagerly awaits your arrival.
Please, could we just pause so I can collect my thoughts? the
major pleaded. I never walked into a conference room without
adequate preparation.
The angel paused in his ascent and set Major Hardy down on a
flower-dotted ridge. You were supposed to prepare yourself for this
moment while you were on earth, he said, a bit reproachfully.
Please, the major begged him, lets take a moment to
rehearse...if that would be possible.
The angel closed his eyes briefly, then agreed. It is an unusual
request, but the Lord would have you to enter His Presence with
humility of heart, not with pride. Shall we inspect just one of those
presents you were going to lay at the feet of your Sovereign?
What presents? said the major. See? My hands are empty. I
didnt even bring my wedding ring.
I speak of your record of efficiency in business, and specifically of
your pride in personal stewardship over your own possessions. Briefly
lets review one incident where you fought valiantly against a threat to
your financial security.
At the angels command a faraway vista appeared, like a motion
picture. It was the early 70s, and into view came a rundown stucco
house, an oddity in that humid Southern climate. The field surrounding
the back yard was overgrown by thick, tangled weeds which ought to
have been uprooted many years before. Huge field rats raced here and
there, and slipped in and out of the house through unrepaired
foundation crevices.
Your property was in that state long before a certain young couple
moved in, said the angel. You, who boast of being an orderly,
disciplined soldier...why didnt you care for your own property?
I didnt have time, with all my other duties, the major faltered.
But you found plenty of time to go worry the poor woman who
inhabited that house, reproved the angel. See? Thats you getting
out of your car to harass her about your rent money, knowing full well
her husband is not home.

79

The scene shifted to a young woman who heard his knock and
rose up from taking a nap with her baby. Marie peeked out the
window. Her brow knitted. Oh no, she thought.
As Marie slipped on her shoes she heard the sound of a key in the
lock. She forced a fake smile onto her grim face.
She doesnt look very happy, said the major.
Nor would your wife, if someone walked in unannounced on her,
said the angel.
The focus zeroed in on the majors head as he called out:
Anybody home? As Marie approached him his thoughts were made
audible: Why did I ever rent this place out to hippies anyway? Long
hair, long dress, no curtains on the windows, shabby furniture...
The angel paused the video and said: Before we go any further,
show me the Scripture which makes it a sin for women to wear long
hair and long dresses.
Well, my wife didnt look that way, said the major
sanctimoniously. Her skirts were always the proper length, and her
coiffure was always lacquered in place. And what was the matter with
those people anyway, with no curtains on the windows?
You cant eat curtains, said the angel tartly. With that, the focus
shifted to a kitchen cabinet, bare except for a box of baking soda.
The weather has interfered with her husbands outdoor
employment, the angel added. Two self-righteous gossips from
Maries church came by the other day to give her a hard time about
her attitude toward a fellow believer who cheated her husband out of
his rightful wages. After they finished carving up her soul into tiny little
pieces, they went out for a hamburger. How cheap to kick someone
whos down, but how costly to offer practical help. And to make
matters worse, this woman now has to contend with you.
Major Hardy patrolled the old house, checking to make sure it was
tidy and clean. Marie told him about a pest infestation problem. Her
husband had sprayed for bugs and laid giant traps for the field rats,
but the problem had persisted. The house had been scrubbed top to
bottom but he inferred that the pest problem could be due to her
negligence.
She spent so much time with her broom and mop that they
became her closest companions , said the angel. The devil tried to
make Marie think her own self-worth was tied up with the cleanliness
of that old house. How could you have held her responsible for the
water which collected within the walls of the stucco which attracted the
roaches, or for the big masonry gaps which let in the big rats? Why
were you so slow to admit the problem was your fault, not hers?

80

Because I needed the money! the major barked. In order to


keep my financial ship afloat I had to plug up the leaks. Her husband
badgered me so bad I called in the pest control people.
What if one of those rats had bitten her baby, or someone had
been hurt by the rat trap? the angel asked. How would you have
felt?
Major Hardy grimaced. I sure wouldnt have felt good about it,
but it was like pulling hens teeth to get those folks to pay their rent on
time.
Even on an empty stomach? said the angel.
All I can say is this: It was Gods responsibility to take care of
those people, not mine.
And who looked after your welfare when you were dead in sin and
on your way to hell? Dont you believe in showing your gratitude to
God by treating His children with compassion?
Oh, Ive repaid my debt to God many times over. Just think of all
the tithe money Ive dumped into church offering plates over the
years. Those people sure didnt contribute much, now, did they?
So the spiritual gifts of the poorer saints dont count for much in
your estimation? the angel frowned. I find that a bit ludicrous.
Okay, Ill admit God blesses His poorer children with spiritual
riches too, but I wouldnt have been doing those kids any favor by
letting them stay in MY house rent-free. They needed to learn some
responsibility. I learned plenty of discipline in the Marine Corps. Major
Hardy stood proudly.
Maries husband worked hard to try to improve your house, said
the angel. Doesnt that count for anything?
Well, it hardly looked like the Taj Mahal when he finished.
Were you generous with your contribution for materials? the
angel asked pointedly.
Well, why should I have wasted MY money on that old dump?
Major, you arent being very consistent. If that house wasnt
worth investing in, why was it worth collecting rent on?
Well, it kept them out of the rain, didnt it?
A new scene flashed before the major: Pots and pans spread on the
floor collecting rainwater dripping through the roof.
Some years after the couple moved away it was condemned by the
city and torn down, as you well remember, said the angel. Seems to
me that if you really loved Jesus you would have repaid Him for His
kindness by allowing the young couple to live in that crumbling old
house until they got back on their feet financially.
The major snapped to attention and clicked his heels. God is a
God of order, sir, and I adhere strictly to my principles. I asked no

81

more of those people than I would ask of myself. No one lives in any
of MY properties rent-free. I would expect that of my own son, sir.
The angel groaned. Do you care to retract that statement before
you go in to see your Maker?
No sir, let it stand on record that I had a right to my own rent.
Fair is fair.
It shall remain on your record, but not in your favor, said the
angel solemnly. Out of your own mouth you shall be judged thus:
You, who were forgiven a debt as vast as the heavens, refused to
forgive a debt infinitely smaller. You stored up plenty of treasures for
yourself on earth but what provision have you made for your own
home in heaven?
All the tithe money I just mentioned, doesnt that count for
anything?
Not here it doesnt, said the angel. If you failed to see your
Redeemer in the face of His poor brethren, youve missed Him
altogether. In Gods Kingdom you only keep for eternity what you give
away. Far better to make a feast for the poor than for the rich who
can easily recompense you upon the earth.
But that isnt what Brother Silverspoon taught! protested the
major. He said I could have my pie on earth, with lots of ice cream
piled on top, and a big mansion in heaven after I died.
All that matters is what Jesus taught, the angel said. After you
left Maries church you found another church which preached a gospel
more to your liking. And you forgot your First Love. Instead, you
invented unto yourself another Christ whom you will not encounter in
the Throne Room. Take, then, your poor offering offered out of a
hardened heart and see if it will be sufficient to pay adequate rent to
live on Gods heavenly property.
$$$$$$

Jesus and the Rich Man


Both rich and poor have gifts to share, but everybody needs Jesus gift
of eternal life.
Jesus and His four half-brothers were toiling in the carpentry shop one
morning. James was in a sullen mood. He took his workaday
frustrations out on a long plank. His loud banging almost drowned out
Jesus hymn of thanksgiving.
I dont know what there is to sing about, said James. Another
day, another shekel of taxes for the rich man who lives only to exploit
us. The good-for-nothings...
82

Enough of that, James, Jesus said. Father Abraham was rich in


faith as well as in earthly goods. There is hope even for the rich,
though a camel would have an easier time threading himself through
the eye of a needle than for a covetous man to enter the Kingdom of
God.
Bitter laughter all around. Amen to that, brother, Jude nodded,
busy with his lathe.
And remember what our parents said, Jesus said. When I was a
tiny child three great men from the East came to bring Me gifts. Their
kindness made it possible for our parents to take me to Egypt to
escape Herods wrath.
James drew a deep sigh. There are exceptions, Jesus, but you
must remember how most rich men got that way. There is but one
loaf in this world, and in order for the rich to fare sumptuously we poor
must subsist on their crumbs. Being poor is a sure sign of Gods
disfavor.
Aye, that is so, Jude and Joses agreed.
Do not confine God to your meager purse, James, Jesus said.
God has chosen the poor of His Kingdom to receive His spiritual
riches, for their hands are not already full of vain things which do not
endure. Better is the substance of the righteous poor than all the
riches of the wicked. God spoke this earth into existence out of
nothing and all we need do is ask His blessing upon what little we
have. Whatever is consecrated to our Heavenly Father will, like a tiny
seed, grow into eternal riches laid up in heaven where no thief can
break through and steal.
Thieves, Jude said, remembering a passage from the Prophets.
Restless men forever foaming like the waves of the sea, never resting
content till they wreak some mischief on the weak and defenseless.
Bah! brother Simon barked. Thieves and rich men! One and the
same! Worthless lot, all of them!
Their deep dialogue was cut short by a portly figure standing at
the door: a resplendently clad gentleman, garbed in purple silk.
Obviously he must wield some clout in society. He wore a striped
turban with a jeweled clasp. The carpenters glimpsed a
curtained
litter attended by liveried servants who, glad of the break, grimaced
and rubbed their aching muscles. Barefoot village children in dusty
rags stared wonderingly at the sight. Never before had they seen
such a prince of a man in their town.
Jesus peered up from His workbench, but didnt seem overawed by
the rich man. His soul was just as needy as anyone elses. The
wealthy merchant averted his gaze from the bare-backed laborers, all
shiny from honest sweat. He waited for the carpenters to don their
tunics, then went in.
83

Jesus four brothers were amazed that one such as he should grace
their humble shop, one who was spared the perpetual sentence passed
by God upon Adams seed, the sweat of toil. "James," Jesus whispered,
"I need to handle this Myself. Would you fellows go into the house and
lend a hand to Mother and our sisters? Im expecting some friends for
lunch. Please ask them to bake a few extra griddle cakes and throw
some smoked fish on the fire to serve with the porridge."
"And how many guests are coming to this sumptuous feast, Jesus?
It isnt even a Sabbath supper."
"Five are coming, James."
"That many, just for an everyday lunch?" James shook his head.
"You never even told us."
"Its a surprise," said Jesus. "And please dont give Me a hard time
about it. Mother is still not fully recovered from the passing of our
father, so lets show a little compassion, please."
"So why should men do womens work?" James growled. "We
slave all day to support sisters who ought to be married off by now.
Why cant they handle unexpected company? Admit it, Jesus. You
want us to go help mother so you can negotiate with this fine
gentleman all by Yourself. Arent we even worthy to stand in his
presence?"
"Big strong guys like us baking bread! Bah!" brother Simon chimed
in.
Jesus was saddened by the typical male attitude of his day. "Just
do it, fellows. If you truly love our mother prove it by loving deeds.
She would enjoy your company and I really must have a private word
with this gentleman."
The brothers left their work stations, throwing down their tools with
a loud clatter. The nerve of Jesus, pulling rank on them as the eldest.
"Im sorry you had to witness that," Jesus said to his new
customer. "James needs to learn to bridle his tongue."
The man nodded amiably. "I have heard of the recent death of
your father Joseph.
At least you treat your mother with the
consideration she deserves. If only Id been kinder to my own poor
mother after my father died."
Jesus tender smile soothed a tormented soul unused to getting
smiles of any kind from the downtrodden poor. "Perhaps you were so
caught up in your own sorrow you lost sight of your mothers grief,"
Jesus said, looking intently at Simon.
"That is so," Simon said. "When somebody dies the living must
take up the burden of the deceased. I tried to become the scholar of
Scripture I failed to be before my fathers death. What better way to
honor Fathers memory, and it served as a welcome distraction from
my grief. But I was so engrossed in my own spiritual betterment I was
84

of small comfort to my own mother. It must be difficult having to take


up the mantle of your father in this household. Sibling rivalry, that
type of thing."
"Oh, I manage," Jesus said, "with the help of our Father in heaven
who comforts those who mourn. Welcome to My shop, Simon bar
Ezekiel. Ive been expecting you."
How strange, Simon mused. Weve barely met but I feel so drawn
to Him. What is there about this poor Carpenter that makes me want
to tell Him the secrets of my heart?
"How odd. I feel like I already know you, but how do you know my
name, young man?" Simon asked, mystified. "I dont even live in your
village."
"Seekers of the Truth live everywhere, Master Simon. You hunger
for something money cannot buy."
Simon blinked at His miraculous insight. But he found this man so
much more interesting than any rich Pharisee hed broken bread with.
"That may be, but my immediate need is a new banqueting table. My
other ones all rickety and scratched up. Im disposing of it because it
no longer matches my decor."
"If youll let Me have your old table to fix up for a poor family as a
gift," Jesus offered, "Ill make you another one free of charge."
"Its a wonder you dont lose your cloak, Jesus, being so generous
and all."
"But Master Simon, I enjoy being generous. God always supplies
all My needs. Ordinarily I do charge something for My services, but
today the Father in heaven wants Me to waive My labor fee."
"Have I need of charity from a man poorer than myself?" Simon
asked pointedly. His eyes roved from his own pearls and finery to
Jesus homespun tunic. "God has richly blessed me. I have need of
nothing."
"And God has likewise blessed Me," Jesus said. "Yet I have a need
only you can meet."
"Youre talking nonsense, young man. First you claim God meets
all your needs, then you say you need my charity. And yet you refuse
my offer of honest wages for honest work. I am an expositor of the
Law and I know Scripture warns against using your neighbors service
without wages."
Through fathomless eyes of love Jesus said: "Whenever you
minister to the least of these my poor brethren you do so in My Name.
The poor are My neighbors, and I came to give them life everlasting.
God makes righteous people His ministers in serving the table of the
poor."
"But your family are also poor," Simon asserted. "Surely you need
money for your own familys table."
85

"We have more than enough," Jesus quietly said. "We have food
for this day and God will provide for tomorrow. Unless you are willing
to pay Gods price, I can do nothing for you."
"I need a decent table," the man insisted, reaching into his money
bag. "Other-worldly though You are, you cant subsist on nothing. Of
course You can have my old table, Jesus. And here. At least accept
enough money for materials. I want a long table three cubits wide by
fifteen cubits long. Make it of the finest hardwood. Inlay the edges
with floral mosaics and polish it till it shines. When its finished, Ill
send my servants to come pick it up."
Jesus jotted the details on a broken potsherd. "No problem, sir, I
can do this for you...so long as you meet My terms. Ill do My very
best...and we can deliver it to you too. "
The man lingered in the shop studying the strange young carpenter
Who had the gentlest face, this remarkable Artisan who acted well-off
enough to pick and choose which jobs he would deign to accept.
"Jesus," said Simon, "Im not your ordinary run-of-the-mill rich man
who oppresses the poor.
I want to give You something in return!
What can I do to show You my gratitude? What is it Youre really
after?"
"Sell all you have and give to My brethren the poor."
The rich man wondered if Jesus might be unbalanced, but the
orderliness of the Carpenters shop and quality of the ox yokes and
furniture on display testified to a sound, intelligent mind.
"I...Im not ready to do that yet, Jesus," said Simon. "I need a
home to live in, food to eat, clothes to wear. Im not yet strong
enough in faith to divest myself of all my worldly goods. Isnt there
some other way I can show myself a righteous man worthy of
salvation?"
"Yes. If you would enter into the Kingdom of God consecrate your
new table to My Fathers Kingdom. Once I have finished your fancy
table invite all your poor neighbors to dine with you whenever you are
inclined to throw a party. Honor your fathers memory by living the
spirit of the Law: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
soul, strength and mind and your neighbor as yourself. Share your
food with the hungry. Let your weary servants dine with you at
mealtime and serve them yourself. Wash the feet of those who are so
weary they can hardly stand. Cheer the hearts of the lowly by treating
them like your own family. Ease the burden of shame the poor must
bear in this evil world, for it is quite heavy enough."
The mans eyes widened in horror. "I cant live like that! All my
friends would think I was crazy! Id be the laughingstock of the whole
synagogue!"

86

"You can either choose them or choose God," said Jesus. "You
cant serve both God and mammon."
Such advice from a lowly Carpenter would have seemed
preposterous had the rich merchant not already been wrestling with
his conscience all the way to Jesus shop, struggling to stifle nagging
guilt feelings about luxury living in the midst of misery. "You drive a
hard bargain, young man, but I know my days on earth are numbered
and I so much want to share in the lot of the righteous when God
raises the dead on the last day."
"You shall," Jesus assured him. "Im working on that too, Simon
bar Ezekiel. Would you and your men kindly join us for lunch? It will
be far simpler fare than youre used to, but I offer you the hospitality
of My home."
Never before had the elderly gentleman been invited to dine in a
poor peasants home, but he readily accepted. All he could see was a
wise Prince in the guise of a meek and lowly Man who treated him like
a friend, not like a rich man to be deferred to. Simon rushed outside
to call his four servants to come and dine.
As he got to know Jesus better, Simon admired the young
Carpenter from Nazareth and wished he were more like Him. He
might have hired any other man on the Street of the Carpenters, but
Jesus had a reputation for fine craftsmanship. Not only that, he was
such a gracious young Man, full of wisdom and kindness toward rich
and poor alike. Jesus said his table would take weeks to complete,
even with the help of his brothers, who gladly volunteered their skills
so a rich man could properly entertain destitute beggars poorer than
themselves. Even James was in a better mood by now. Because he
had something to give, he didnt feel quite so poor anymore.
The merchant knew Jesus must make a special journey to purchase
the materials, saw the wood into planks, cure it, sand it then shape it
into interlocking pieces to fit together. The table would be carved with
skillful hands, patiently polished and beautified with mosaics to make it
fit for a kings palace.
Simon sang for joy all the way home. Elderly though he was, he
even got off his litter to walk home the rest of the way when one of his
bearers moaned from an aching back. But so what if Simons jeweled
sandals would get dusty? His heart was as light as a childs, liberated
at last from chains which once bound him. Still he wondered how the
village Carpenter could be working on a way to ensure his resurrection
unto eternal life.
While Jesus brothers wondered about Him, He sang at His work,
praising His Father for the transformation in the rich man. As for the
fine table, the day finally came when Jesus was able to lay down His
tools and say: "Thank God, its finished." When He delivered it He
87

said: "Remember your promise, friend, and the day will come when
you will dine at My table in My Fathers Kingdom. Now I must go and
work on your eternal salvation."

88

You might also like