2017-10-04 / Editorials

Mike Reese

“I was just thinking”

Among my regular bills in the mailbox there was an odd piece which boldly proclaimed on the envelope, “We feel that something very wonderful is trying to come to you!” Well shoot, don’t just “try” to come to me “something very wonderful.” Come on down! Now! Maybe they’re going to pay off my wife’s car!

After settling down I noticed the return address was St. Matthews Church in Tulsa. This perked up my suspicious cells. The envelope was packed, several single spaced sheets, front and back, nice pictures, and best of all my very own paper prayer rug, about 12 x 18 inches with a picture of Jesus in the middle, and a nice oriental pattern on the edges. Jesus’ head was covered with the largest crown of thorns I’ve ever seen depicted. There were instructions at the bottom of my rug, which told me to “stare intently into Jesus’ eyes,” which were closed. After staring for thirty seconds, it said I should “see His eyes begin to open.” Well, OMG, Jesus’ right eye did partially peak at me during my stare. I never could stare long enough for His left eye to budge, though.

I could write a book on the garbage and false promises in this letter. I was promised a “new car, lots of cash, a job, a better job, better health, true love, protection from evil, etc. And all I needed to do was to “plant a faith seed.” I tried to picture them opening their prepaid envelope with a pack of cucumber seeds inside.

One woman’s testimony declared that she was “blessed with almost $47,000” after using her paper prayer rug. Now who couldn’t use “almost” $47,000? I was instructed, after properly praying, to place my prayer rug under my mattress for 24 hours, then to give it to a friend. And he/she might get lucky too. Maybe if they received “almost $47,000,” they’d split it with me. I began to think which friend would be most likely to split the money. At press time, I’m still thinking. Ok, I stared one of Jesus’ eyes to half open, I sent my seeds, I put it under my side of the bed for twenty-four hours, and now I’ve waited for four weeks. Nothing! Zero! Patience is a virtue, just not one of mine.

I Googled St. Matthews Church in Tulsa which is actually, I discovered, only a P.O. Box in Tulsa. The church was started by the Rev. James Ewing (probably JR’s brother) who was once a traveling tent-revival preacher. He lives in a Beverly Hills mansion in Los Angeles where he sends out thousands of letters each month, reportedly bringing in $6 million dollars every month. I hope my cucumbers give him powerful gas, turning him into a ticking gas bomb. I prayed that Gas-X would bring no relief for Rev. Ewing.

If you have any “seed money” to spare, Houston, Puerto Rico, Florida and the Virgin Islands could certainly use it. Giving “almost” $25, or “almost” $50, or “almost” $100 would be great.

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