The unfortunate incident started in the teachers' lounge. I was screwing around on my computer when he entered the room. We smiled at each other, and he took a seat at a nearby table. Then we struck up a conversation.
I said, "I attend church every week, but I never tithe."
He said, "Why do you refuse to give money to God?"
"I'm too poor. By the time the end of the month hits, I'm down to rice and beans. If I gave 10 percent of my salary, my family would starve."
He smiled. "Remember the story about the widow with the two copper coins?"
I nodded. "Yes, it certainly rings a bell."
"Well, she was poor like you. But that didn't stop her from giving to the church."
"I don't think that's the proper analysis of that particular tale. The widow isn't meant to be celebrated. Quite the contrary. She's the victim of a corrupt system and actually believes that her offering will bring good luck. It's proof that the prosperity gospel was alive and well in ancient times. Never in a million years would Jesus want widows or orphans to give away their last two pennies to greedy priests."
He gave me the stink eye. "I've never heard that interpretation before. Your words aren't biblically sound. She's a good person because she gave everything she had to God. She'll get all that money back ten times over."
I shook my head gently. "No offense, pastor, but I think you're wrong. In the very next paragraph, Jesus turns to his disciple and says that he's going to tear the temple down. So why would he encourage this woman to continue giving money to a sinful organization which he intends to destroy?"
His face turned beet red, and you could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head. He tried to smile, but it was more of a snarl. "I don't want to talk about it. You're mangling the bible on purpose."
"Have you heard John MacArthur's interpretation?"
"I have no interest in what John has to say. I'm not a fan of Pastor MacArthur."
He gave me the silent treatment for the next twenty minutes, and I wisely decided not to pursue the subject any further. I consider this man a potential friend, and the last thing I want to do is to screw up our relationship over a disagreement. He can keep giving his 10 percent if he wishes. It makes no difference for him. His family is loaded. But I'm a pauper, so the church will have to get its money from somebody else. Case closed.
I got home at 6 p.m. and had a sudden bout of diarrhea. 95 percent of my diet is comprised of fruit and raw eggs, so I seldom have a solid bowel movement. Anyway, I read the headlines on my phone while taking a shit. A 26-year-old man from Seoul was accused of raping his girlfriend by his girlfriend's mother. In retaliation, he went to Mom's apartment and stabbed her to death with a butcher knife. He also stabbed her fourteen-year-old son, injuring the boy quite seriously. For his crime, the villain was sentenced to life in prison. Seems fair to me.
I went to bed later that night at 10 p.m. I slept like the dead.
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