How to Use God to Get What You Want

Ben Rogers

Few people realize that the best part of being a Christian, besides getting into heaven, is that if you are truly good and holy and righteous you get to be rich. It’s what God wants for you! That is his greatest promise to us, right after waiving damnation.

When we see an openly wealthy person on the street we are instantly overwhelmed with awe. We can tell that their riches are the result of their pragmatic wisdom and shrewd decisions. This is all the more true for Christians of such conspicuously bountiful means. Not only must they possess all the admirable qualities of the secularly rich, they have the added blessings-to-income variable of walking in the figurative Promised Land, making them the envy of even their non-religious yet equally loaded brethren.

For instance, if you see a person come to church in a Cadillac you can know with good certainty that he or she tithes regularly and can recite the Apostle’s Creed almost completely from memory, fumbling only a bit at the “suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified dead and buried” part but mouthing along with enough subtlety to fool the apostles themselves (though that wouldn’t be too hard because they neither wrote the creed nor did they speak English). If in a Mercedes they are most likely a deacon, and any reverend worth his salt drives nothing less than a Bentley. His Excellency Pat Robertson allegedly drives a Maserati towing a Ferrari with a Ducati super bike shoved in the passenger seat. Case in point: the Pope has his own custom-made military grade anti-ballistics car. That’s about as much pimped out holiness as you can get.

On the other hand, if you see people coming to church and being told to park their Ford Tempo across the street then they are probably prostitutes or they read the Washington Post or something.

Not rich already? Don’t worry; you may not be too far-gone to receive God’s blessings in your life.* Though your poor soul is lost and you dwell in the darkness of a plebian tax bracket, redemption is still possible. God’s grace and blessings are no more than five easy steps away.

Step 1: Memorize the Prayer of Jabez. Even though it is little more than two verses attributed to an obscure man from the Old Testament about whom nothing else is said excepting that he was “more honorable than any of his brothers,”** it is the backbone of our faith and should be recited habitually.

Step 2: Don’t read the gospels. These will only confuse you, and you probably won’t be as excited about getting rich. Besides, it’s only four books. That leaves like 62 other books, which is still about 94% of the whole Bible. You can be a good Christian and get rich without them so don’t sweat it.

Step 3: Say you love Jesus. Though you haven’t ever really read what he said, publicly invoke his name with the utmost piety whenever the opportunity arises. Doing so privately is fine too, though this serves more as practice for the public times. Rehearsals are good, but never forget it’s the big show that counts.

Step 4: Even if you haven’t got it yet, flaunt it. Get some credit cards, go to Payday Loans, whatever, and pick up some new suits, some Christian bling, new car, hi-def plasma TV, and get ready to impress your accountability group. Delusions of blessings are almost as good as actual blessings. Besides, if people think you got God working in your wallet they’re going to be a lot more receptive to your venture capital ideas, and you’ll start rolling in piles of dough that God can anoint later when he gets around to it.

Step 5: Study the scriptures! Search through your Bible (avoiding those four cumbersome and aforementioned books of course) and find verses that can be interpreted to fit your needs. Though it is ancient, the Bible can still be a wonderfully relevant, easily accessible, and deliciously profitable text even today if applied the right amount of theological muscle.

For more literature though not necessarily information, please bring eight (8) easy payments of $79.99 to Dock 5-C at the wharf. 2:30 AM. Saturday. Come alone. No questions. No cops. No C.O.D.’s.