You Treated Me Like a Slot Machine
by Patricia Backora
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YOU TREATED ME LIKE A SLOT MACHINE
Matt.7:22-23;II Cor.5:10;I Tim.6:5;Jude 11; Rev.21:8
What is the Lord likely to say
To greedy churchmen on Judgment Day?
What would he say to the ones led astray?
The thief in the pulpit who preached to get rich
The blind whom he caused to fall into a ditch
First we'll consider the one who was bilked
The brainwashed cash cow who got greedily milked.
He comes before Christ his works to receive
The man wishes for great reward
But he cannot hope very confidently
There is disappointment on the face of His Lord.
What have you brought to present to Me?
Christ asks the one He died to set free.
What are these structures of straw which I see?
Those rusting tin toys piled high in heaps?
Horrified, the man sees his treasures set on fire
All the temporal toys he was taught to desire
Prosperity tapes he'd soaked up for hours
Seminars he'd hungrily devoured.
Surely, thought the man, his religion should be spared
The Lord should commend all the dollars he'd shared
To save Brother Smiley's great ministry
Surely God would give gold for all that tithe money…
Or would He?
The man remembered all he'd done without
To obey a preacher whose stick was stout
That door swings both ways! The preacher had cried.
Get lost right now if you refuse to tithe!
An angel points at a big pile of cash
It goes up in smoke and soon turns to ash
The man cries out in deepest despair
All that sacrifice, don't You hold it dear?
Then the Lord said with tears in His eyes
I taught you the truth about the tithe
But you preferred to hold fast to lies
Tithes consisted only of food
And tithing was never commanded to you!
As a member of my New Covenant priesthood
You should have trusted only in My blood
Your tithes denied Your position in Me
A co-heir of Christ completely set free!
What about my offerings, Lord?
Surely I helped provide for the poor!
Whenever I heard that man on TV
I'd always respond to his tearful plea
He said you'd reward me a hundred-fold
And I'd lay up heavenly treasures of gold
He promised You'd make me an heir of good things
And even on earth I'd live like a king!
I don't like being treated like a slot machine
Said the Lord to the man who stood quaking
Your loyalty was to Prosperity
You paid your dues to stay in that club
That carnal church devoid of love.
All those offerings to those clowns on TV
Whose mouths do you think they went to feed?
That grinning snake with the poodle-permed hair
Lived life in luxury without a care
Three homes he owned, thanks to saints he fooled
But now he's far worse off than you!
The smell of smoke is on your garments
But at least you'll be spared eternal torment
You prayed for forgiveness at the last possible moment
Your sins are forgiven, you are spared judgment
But your tempter died in his sin.
A thousand years later at the Great White Throne
Appears a figure with heart hard as stone
With grudging obeisance he falls to his knees
And makes excuses and fearful pleas.
Please, Jesus, don't punish me further, have mercy!
Begs the oily-tongued worker of iniquity
Jesus asks him, Where was YOUR mercy
When you told lies in the name of gain and greed?
You taught your so-called prosperity
But look at the damage it did to Me!
Nationwide My name was lampooned
Mocked as mercenary by satan's fools
You more than devoured the widows' mite
You put her in bondage to vows and tithes
You twisted the loving grace of My Word
So you could more easily a profit turn.
You treated Me like a slot machine
You cheapened the grace of your Heavenly King
You sold Me for silver just like Judas did
You foul religious hypocrite!
You bound my people 'neath heavy burdens
Marriages crumbled beneath your demands
You turned my free people into your own servants
There are bloodstains on your hands
From people who refused to come to Me
Because of the bad press caused by your greed.
Some of My brethren deserted Me
Because they associated Me with your greed
Why didn't I reward their tithe
And give them gold for obeying your lies?
So many sheep were devoured by guilt
Needless guilt you gladly instilled
But never did you lose any sleep
From fleecing and skinning My gullible sheep.
I sorrowed over those who went away
But you stayed happy because you were paid
Paid the wages of a lying prophet
Whose lies brought him a tidy profit
Now your riches are corroded
Plucked up by the roots you are twice dead.
Get out of my sight. Go where you belong
The furnace of fire destined for all liars
You sold My righteousness for a big bag of wrong
So off you go to the Lake of Fire.
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