God’s House

Psalm 132:3-5 ESV

3  “I will not enter my house
    or get into my bed, 4 I will not give sleep       

    to my eyes or slumber to my eyelids, 5      

    until I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling 

     place for the Mighty One of Jacob.”

Daniel parked his car behind the church. A well dressed lady came out of a side building shaking her finger at him, “you can’t park here. This is for church personnel only.” She puffed out her chest as she spoke. 

“I’m the new secretary,” Daniel sputtered. Fumbling in his pocket to retrieve his key. 

She eyed him up and down. Then did the same to his car. He was suddenly embarrassed by his thrift store clothes and 13 year old car. He wanted to puke.

With unsteady nerves, he swiped the card. It produced a sweet jingle. The lock popped. When he opened the door, a man dressed in black dress pants and a crisp dress shirt stood in his way. “I see Beatrice got you.”

“Sir?” Daniel gulped. 

“I’m the pastor.” He didn’t extend his hand to Daniel or offer him a hand shake. He turned and Daniel followed him. “The group of men you met yesterday have decided we need to move into the digital age with our record keeping. The rest of the church has. So after you get the bulletin ready, that will be part of your ‘other duties as assigned’. You will be provided top notch equipment, so don’t stress that.” He walked away. 

On his lunch break, Daniel walked the compound and found a nice shade tree to sit under to eat his lunch. The days it rained, he spent more time exploring the grounds. He found an athletic center. Playground. And a building he later discovered was an event hall. All surrounded by a 6 foot high wrought iron fence. 

This fence bothered him. He thought all people should be allowed in God’s house. He discovered that only tithing members of the church could use these facilities. As he ‘brought the record keeping into the digital age’, he discovered that they really did keep track of how much each member tithed. And they had a membership tier based on your tithing. The more money you tithed, the more things you got to do inside the compound. They even had a daycare. ‘For members only’.

Sunday, Daniel followed a line of people to what he thought were public bathrooms. Well, yes. But there were 5 ATM machines lining a wall. Each with a person swiping away. One of the six men Daniel met on his first day, was standing behind them, holding a golden tray, smiling and nodding as each person put money (cash) in the tray. “Thank you.” Smile and nod. “Thank you.” Smile and nod. “Thank you.” Smile and nod. 

After the service, all the men made a procession line across the sanctuary from the back to the front. When they had made it to the lobby, the pastor walked inside and somehow Daniel instinctively knew to lock the door behind him. ‘Keep the rif raf out’. 

The pastor drowned both hands with hand sanitizer then rubbed his cheeks and neck. The row of men just laughed. 

“Come on boy.” The preacher swaggered back through the sanctuary, out to the parking lot, followed by the group of men. A line of brand new, shiny, vehicles were parked in a nice row. 4 of the vehicles had women dressed to kill standing in front of them. These men, including the pastor, had to be all over 50. None of these women were. Each man got a kiss. Each man held the door open. And in unison, they drove away. “You can ride with me boy.”

The pastor’s truck was the biggest thing Daniel had ever saw. He was awestruck by it. The inside was all leather. “Someday boy, this could be you.” 

They all met at the finest restaurant in town, were shown to a private room. And the man that originally opened the door for Daniel, paid the bill. In cash. This made him highly uncomfortable. He knew that everything at the church was paid for by tithe money. But this seemed opulent. Wasteful. Everyone left huge plates of food. 

He nervously asked the lady to his right, “would it be rude of me to ask for a to go box?” 

Giggling, she asked, “why?”

“This was magnificent. I’d hate to waste it.”

She only scoffed.