Just imagine what church life  might be like if even one legalistic preacher got bored with preaching about tithing.  There are still hundreds of other Old Testament rites that could be distorted beyond recognition in order  to apply them to modern church life.  Brother Broadman gets a kick out of controlling people, and that is what keeps him going.  He has set a challenge for himself: See if there are OTHER ways to control people besides ransacking their wallets.

On Sunday morning  Brother Broadman mounted  his big pulpit, dressed in a strange headdress and a fringed blue robe with tiny bells and fruit charms dangling from the hem.  Brother Broadman announced, to a chorus of hallelujahs: “From now on, there will be no more sermons on tithing. Last Saturday night I won the fifty-million-dollar Lotto jackpot, and that’s good enough for me. But there WILL be other changes here as well. From now on, I preside at the altar as your priest, so I’m dressed for the part, according to Exodus Chapter 28. Don’t look at me like that, folks. Some of you are telling me we’re free from the Law of Moses.  That’s right, but there are still eternal PRINCIPLES which must be observed in the Word of God. Tithing predated the Law, at least it did for Abraham when he tithed on plunder stolen from Sodom.  And other practices predate the Law as well, so they must still be valid today. One by one we’ll introduce them to our weekly worship. One ritual practiced before the Law of Moses is animal sacrifice.  If you truly love the Lord you won’t believe in a cost-free Christianity.  We’ll take this step by step.  It was enough of a shock for you to see me dressed like this today. But next week, I’ll start burning sacrifices on the church altar.  But it’s up to YOU to bring ‘em in, especially if you sin in some way.  Ben, I know you’re always asking God’s forgiveness for cussing.  Sister Sharon, you’re always praying for God to forgive you for getting drunk.  So next week, I expect both you and Brother Ben to bring in a calf to barbeque on our altar.  If you guys are too poor to pop for a whole calf, then two pigeons apiece will do.”

“But Brother Ben!” Sister Amanda objected.  “We thought JESUS was the only Sacrifice we need!”

“Maybe so, sister, but it’s also important to submit to authority.  Remember, rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft. You people are lucky you won’t have to tithe anymore! You couldn’t say that about any other faith church in the vicinity. Our needs are simple. Just look at me.  I’m the picture of prosperity. I’ve already spent half my winnings and I’ve invested the rest on Wall Street. I picked some winning stocks and before the year is out I should be a billionaire! I’ve learned to be content with what I have.  I’ve got all the good food a man could want, three homes, my own personal jet, the world’s biggest collection of Rolexes, the best cars, a real swimming pool, and the most respected family in Happytown. The elder and music director are my sons, and they are also shining examples of Biblical prosperity. The ministry of this church lacks for nothing, so there’s no need for me to ever teach tithing again.  But we would be cheating you people of the chance to learn about giving if we didn’t put SOME restrictions on your Christian liberty.  Now, if any of you guys don’t like it, that door swings both ways. I believe in preachin’ that Old Time Religion.  So  after I comment on some Old Testament scriptures, we’ll top off today’s service with candlelit meditation accompanied by Gregorian chants piped over the sound system. Then we’ll conclude with a round of antiphonal Psalm singing.”

* * * * *

Sharon wandered through the park with her butterfly net, looking nervously around hoping no one was watching, or people might think she was nuts.  Aha!  Two pigeons were contentedly feeding beside a trash can.  As stealthily as a cat Amanda crept up over them, ready to pounce with her net.  But before she could swoop down on the pigeons….

“Hey!”  a rough voice called.  “What’re you doing?”

The birds flew away, frightened.  Sharon looked up at a great big cop.  “Don’t you know pigeon poaching is against the law in Happytown?” he frowned. 

“But…I…needed them,” Sharon faltered.

“Why?”

“To take to church?” she squeaked.

The policeman laughed.  “Well, now I’ve heard everything!  Praying pigeons!  Are you guys so hard up for recruits that pigeons have to populate your pews?  That’s crazy!”

The cop let Sharon off with a warning.  But she and Ben had to show up at church empty-handed.  Ben’s backyard pigeon trap hadn’t worked.

Sweet incense wafted over the congregation from two urns burning by the baptistery.  A rectangular barbecue grill was set upon the altar table, coals glowing and ready for something to cook on it. Brother Broadman asked if anybody had committed any sins during the past week.  Only  Ben and Sharon confessed any.  Ben had cussed at his cat and Sharon had gotten plastered on Thursday night after an argument with her in-laws.

“C’mon now!” Brother Broadman scolded.  “Don’t tell me only Sharon and Ben sinned this past week!  What about you, Sister Helga?” he asked an elderly lady.   “Didn’t you do anything bad?”

“Well….I DID say ‘Oh, shoot!’ after I burnt my finger on the toaster,” she admitted.  “Does that count as a sin?”

Brother Broadman frowned.  “Technically no, give or take a vowel or two, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.  Now, where’s everybody’s pigeon offerings, or lambs, if you could cough up the cash for them?”

“Well?” Brother Broadman persisted.  “Ben, Sharon, I know you two owe me some meat, so where’s the beef?”

“Ah…I couldn’t afford that calf you wanted, Brother Broadman,” Ben hesitated. “I know you had your heart set on filling your freezer with veal steaks.”

“Well, what about you, Sharon?  Getting soused doesn’t come cheap in MY church.”

“I’m out of a job, Brother Broadman,” she faltered.

“Well, where’s my pigeons, then!” he barked.  “Unless you two were too stingy to go to a pet store and buy me some!”

“I don’t think they sell pigeons at the pet store, Brother Broadman,” Ben said, ducking down in his pew.  “Honest, I TRIED to bring pigeons this week, but my stupid cat wasn’t able to catch any for me, and my pigeon trap didn’t work.”

“And a cop almost arrested me for pigeon poaching in the park,” Sharon added.

“Excuses, excuses!”  Brother Broadman bellowed.  “All of you are lying to me about whether you’ve sinned or not, too!  There’s no human being alive who doesn’t at least have a dirty thought at some time during the week! You were supposed to bring in a beast or two to make amends for your misdemeanors.  Ye are cursed with a curse!  The Bible plainly says that if you do the deed, you deliver the meat! Well, next week, we’re gonna take you guys down the road of spiritual responsibility a little further.  This church is your spiritual boot camp. The wife and I want to head off to Hawaii for a vacation to celebrate our big windfall, but first we want to ground you guys in some of the oldest principles in the Bible.   This I am determined to do over the next few weeks.  Even if it kills me I’m gonna instill some discipline in your souls!  Next week everybody bring something to barbecue, and that’s an order!”

The following week, the church was filled with squawking pigeons, easily caught by the congregation because the police department happened to be on strike.  One man brought in the coveted calf.  Several pigeons escaped from Bubba Parker’s wire cage, which was pretty full because of all the trouble he’d gotten into over the past week.  The preacher yelled for a few teenage boys to hurry up and catch them.  Most of the birds flew up to the choir loft where they bombed the bass section, before a quick-thinking tenor pulled a packet of peanuts out of his packet and poured them into one spot.  All the birds flocked to the little feast.  The tenor was ready.  He flung his jacket over the birds and soon they were back in their cage.

Before any further trouble could develop the deacon and custodian took all the animals to the back and butchered them while Brother Broadman preached. “We’ll cook up those critters when they’re all dressed and ready,” the preacher said.

That week several vegetarians quit, along with a few other squeamish folks who barfed when they noticed that the “purtenance” or entrails, of the animals were included in Brother Broadman’s unusual rites. Even a nurse out in the congregation fainted at the sight of all the blood that was shed!

On Succeeding Sundays more pigeons were cooked in church.  This time the roasting was done with the windows closed, since it was a cold day.  That set the smoke alarm off.  A whole fleet of fire trucks arrived, sirens blaring. An irate cop arrived. Brother Broadman got fined for running a smoking barbecue grill in an enclosed space. “That’s persecution for you,” the preacher grumbled as the policeman finished writing out his citation and drove away.  “So church altar cookouts are out.  Phooey!  But we can get around that technicality.  Next week I’ll put up a big open-air tent and we’ll hold our sacrifices underneath that.”

“Hey, Brother Broadman,” Lester Perkins asked.  “Can I bring a pile of pork chops to cook at the next service?”

Brother Broadman scratched his head.  He was tired of munching on burnt pigeons for Sunday dinner. “Well, they ain’t exactly kosher, but this IS 2008.  Heck, times are a’changin’, and we’ve gotta keep in step.  So if you sin, bring ‘em in.”

It wasn’t long before teenagers came to Brother Broadman to get their zits checked to see if they had a serious disease, in observance of Leviticus Chapter 13.  Parents of newborn babies would present a “poor man’s offering” of two pigeons, or ducks poached from the riverbank.  Brother Broadman was developing an even more liberal interpretation  of Old Testament Law by now, and roast duck tasted a lot better than pigeon.

One week Sally Barton presented a whole ice chest full of quails shot by her husband.  “Sorry, pastor,” she said.  “Last Sabbath Day I accidentally flipped my light switch 27 times, ran my vacuum cleaner, and fixed Roger’s breakfast in the microwave.  I just can’t get it through my thick skull that on the Sabbath Day you’re not even allowed to button your blouse or brush your hair.  Stupid me.”

Brother Broadman grinned.  He didn’t need any of the “sacrifices” brought by his people, but he did get a heady feeling from the power he exerted over his flock.  “You’re forgiven, sister.  Man, it’s been a week of Sabbaths since I’ve tasted wild quail.”

Every week brought more changes. Brother Broadman thought some of Moses’ laws were a neat idea, so he included more of those rites  in his services, although they didn’t predate the Law. When Brother Broadman insisted that all the men let their beards grow, AND told them they were forbidden to trim the hair on the sides of their head in keeping with Leviticus 19:27, half of them fled back to the tithe-enforcing churches. The women were also getting tired of some of the other Old Testament rules and regulations.  Why were they expected to save a “firstfruits” wad of dough for the preacher every time they baked a pan of biscuits?  He looked like he needed it!

Putting on a brave face, Brother Broadman said at the next service, which had by now been shifted to Saturday, in keeping with Old Testament Sabbath Law: “We’ve had to liberalize our interpretation of Sabbath law just a little to make the keeping of it possible. Unless you stay in bed with the covers pulled over your head, it’s impossible to get through a whole day without doing some sort of work.  You’ve got to pull on your clothes, open a door, change your baby’s diaper, open the fridge, drive your car to get way out to this church house, and all sorts of little things like that.  Just so long as you don’t do the laundry, mow the lawn, or cook a complicated meal, we’ll count you guys as being faithful to keep the Sabbath. Sadly,  we’ve lost a lot of our men because of our new requirement to grow beards and sidelocks. But far from getting discouraged and quitting this experiment in holiness like the devil would want, next week we’ll be taking our faithfulness to the Law a step further.”

Next Sabbath morning, after a rousing call for sacrificial commitment to the cause, Brother Broadman announced he was ready to introduce the congregation to yet another rite which preceded the Law of Moses. And if it was practiced before the Law, it still must be valid during the Church Age.  So he reached under his lectern and brought out a pair of garden shears.  All remaining males of the congregation stampeded out the front door, screaming that the preacher was out of his mind.

Brother Broadman scratched his head and said, “Now why did those fellows forsake me?  All I was gonna do was teach everybody how to shear a sheep.”

The moral of this story: The Law produces fear, not faith (Rom.8:15; Gal.3:12).