Pastor Mick was full of slick tricks

He’d sell souls “a word from the Lord”

So long as their gift was nice and big

A blessing would be outpoured.

To those who boldly step out in faith

And sow a seed of two grand

I’ll anoint your heads with oil and pray

For a miracle from God’s Hand.

Stand up and show holy boldness

Don’t waste God’s money on bills

Overcome fear and coldness

You’ll see that God’s power is real.

Who’ll be first to test the Word

And put some feet to your faith?

Give to God’s work until it hurts

My anointing is mighty to pray.

There’s a holy hush of expectation

Sister Sue, praise God for you

Be expecting a visitation

You’re one of God’s chosen few.

All your walls are broken down

You’ll cross to the other side

Heaven’s blessings will super-abound

No desire will be denied.

The riches of Abraham

Will fill your basket and store

No further worries about finance

You’ll nevermore be poor.

Forget about your gas and rent

God says your bills are covered

I see a miracle heaven-sent

Fresh funds you’ll soon  discover.

Sue had no debit or credit card

But she wrote a check on the spot

The preacher promised a big reward

Would fall from the Hand of God.

Bless Sue, dear Lord, for her precious gift

As we anoint her head

She walks on water like Peter did

Her check will bring her Your best.

Pastor Mick found three or four more

Who purchased a prophecy

People who longed to quit being poor

And live in prosperity.

Others made a vow right now

To make a standing donation

Their credit card numbers were written down

As they stood to get revelations.

Those who pledged five thousand or more

Were part of God’s Honor Guard

Those who gave ten thousand or more

Received the Golden Award.

A precious medallion of tacky brass

An heirloom for families to treasure

A tribute to sheep conned out of their cash

And robbed of God’s genuine Word.

Music played and people prayed

Swept on a tide of emotion

People swayed and hands were raised

As donations proved devotion.

Few had the faith to forfeit their rent

Sue’s heartbeat was very quick

If her excitement was heaven-sent

Why did her stomach feel sick?

Sue’s face did fall when the landlord called

Why was her rent money late?

Sue did her best the landlord to stall

So she could avoid a bad fate.

Sue told the landlord to count it all joy

His rent went to buy better pews

But the grumpy landlord got so annoyed

That he gave Sue some very sad news.

Heaven can wait, he let Sue know

And with that he tore up her lease

He’d far rather shovel coal down below

Than do a compassionate deed.

Homeless Sue returned to her church

But where did the pastor go?

Judy, who handled his paperwork

Would reach him on the phone.

Don’t get your hopes up, Judy said

Pastor’s in a bad mood

If you want help you’re wasting your breath

But my heart goes out to you.

I work for him but my heart is grieved

You aren’t the first to complain

Too many desperate people believed

That giving would bring earthly gain.

Calm down, Sue, I’ll dial the phone

We’ll see what Pastor can do

Remember that you’re not all alone

I’m right here praying for you.

Sue stood by as Judy dialed

The pastor’s private number

Deathly quiet and no one smiled

What’s up? The pastor wondered.

Judy said it was something urgent

A sister was very distraught

She had some questions to ask him

Concerning some things he’d taught.

Pastor Mick, remember me?

Sister Sue sobbed heartbreakingly.

I gave to you abundantly

But now I’m out on the street.

I thought you said you gave to GOD

A polished voice coldly replied

It’s not MY debt, God owes you a lot

Your plight’s no concern of mine.

But why, Sue sobbed, didn’t it work?

What happened to my seed?

I did my best to put God first

Why won’t He meet my need?

Sister Sue, the pastor said

Seeds need time to grow

You’re going through a patience test

I’m busy, I’ve gotta go!

Wait, Pastor Mick, I have no home

I’ve got nowhere to sleep

The bank won’t let me take out a loan

And nobody wants to help me.

Go crash at some homeless shelter

The pastor sounded irked

I’m not a free bank teller

Go find some extra work.

Some preacher said tithes fed the poor

In ancient Israel, Sue pleaded

The tithing barns stored barley and corn

To give people food they needed.

Sister Sue, that’s done away

The pastor said with a laugh

Saints should pay even more under Grace

Today all God wants is cash.

If you need to eat there’s a fine food bank

At Twenty-Seventh and Maple

You really should give joyful thanks

That they hand out free food staples.

Pastor, where is your mercy?

You’re turning your back on me!

Don’t you care that I’m hurting?

Was all you wanted my money?

Christian love must be firm

The pastor said with resolve

I’m going to share the Word

The vision I have caught.

Sue asked what he was going to share

Next Sunday from his pulpit

Did it concern Christ’s love and care?

Could he tell Sue a bit?

Next Sunday I’ll lay it on the line

Non-tithers will be ostracized

Cut off from cliques and all church life

Only tithers will be baptized.

Those who are poor should give like the rest

Non-tithers won’t be prayed for

If you love Jesus you’ll bring your best

You’ll look for ways to give more.

Please, Pastor, you’ve got to help me

I’m hungry and homeless with nowhere to go

You taught us to give sacrificially

A good example you should show.

I’m here to lead you guys to follow

The pastor snorted in contempt

What I’ve got  now you’ll get tomorrow

I refuse to feel condemned.

Judy sat there crying

As she overheard Sue’s words

Within her a light was shining

The Truth within her heart burned.

Swindled Sue had nothing to lose

That she hadn’t lost already

A mild rebuke was long overdue

Her voice was hot but steady.

You don’t care when we hurt and bleed

You pass to the other side

You harden your heart against our need

You’re dead to Jesus’ life.

You’re just a phony Pharisee

Devouring widows’ purses

God will somehow meet my need

Though you’ve threatened us with curses.

Malachi has made you rich

Malachi has made me cry

Because of the way you’ve twisted it

To tax us with the tithe.

Your bald-faced lies have broken me

I appeal to My Redeemer

The Judge of all souls has heard my plea

Judy’s asked me to stay with her.

I don’t see Jesus in you, Pastor Mick

He’s a Friend you cannot spend

You foxy Pharisees make God sick

You’ll answer to Him for this sin.

You’ve turned our joy to the pains of hell

You worship the almighty dollar

What do you have to say for yourself

You hypocrite and robber?

Sister, it isn’t me you should blame

You’re poor and I don’t know why

Maybe your check bounced in my bank

So your blessing bounced back up to the sky.