"No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. "
1 Timothy 6:10
"For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. "
The other day, I got what appeared to be an odd spam message in my email box. At first, I was just going to delete it, but the way the subject was worded, it caught my eye.
Upon opening the email I noticed quickly this was not the standard run of the mill newsletter, spam message or regular message. It had an odd pecularity to it, which prompted me to read it more.
"Theives: One dirty TV pastor and the man who robbed him". Wow, what a title. I thought to myself, that is one interesting book to read. So, I clicked through to the man's website to read on more (see here).
After clicking through and soaking up a lot of what his website said, viewing the videos and even reading a chapter of the book, I was pretty shocked. How could any pastor be so dirty and get away with so much?
Yes, even the robbery of this pastor, you seem to overlook upon seeing, hearing all the crazy, lewd, sinful acts of this one pastor. You would think you were reading about a drug lord or a mafia boss. No, you are reading about a "pastor".
Well, I couldn't resist and purchased a copy of the book myself. It was too good to just buy the ebook or that "kindle" silliness. No, I needed both the ebook and a paperback. This was too good to just have in electronic format.
Currently, I am on Chapter 9 and this book is not even half over. I feel like I have already read a whole book, seeing it is 350 pages! Yet, I can not put it down.. AND, I could not resist. I have to put up a portion of chapter 9 here on my site. I guess it was just too good not to share. Or maybe, too brutal and honest. At any rate, the author could view this as a plug for his book:
Part of Chapter Nine
“Jessica . . . Jessica . . . I can help Mr. Smith.” A man stepped from his
office. “My name is Dean Jordan. It is always a pleasure to serve our ministry
friends and partners. Any friend of Dr. Mike Murdock is a friend of ours.
Come on in to my office. We’ll streamline this whole enrollment thing to
make it as painless as possible.”
“That is very generous of you, Mr. Jordan.” I took a seat in a chair by his
“So tell me Trey, how is Dr. Murdock?”
“He’s fine.” I smiled. “And, Dean Jordan, I am sure he would be pleased
to know that you asked. Now, I am here to set up the housing situation for
both Jason and myself. And, as far as the payment arrangements, I—”
“Whoa . . . Whoa . . . Mr. Smith, I don’t need to go through the details of
the payment arrangements. There have already been a number of internal
discussions in anticipation of this particular enrollment. It is my
understanding that those matters have already been handled. So tell me Mr.
Smith, what do you hope to gain from our institution?”
“Well Dean Jordan, I want to be part of your radio and television
“You want to be on television one day, do you, Mr. Smith?”
“I want to be a journalist, maybe a Christian writer. Dean Jordan, I want
to explore the truth about ancient cultures, Biblical texts, and the early timeperiods
in human history that they portray,” I replied.
“The truth, Mr. Smith?” He nodded with a smile. “You are in the right
place for that. Additionally, while you’re here, you might want to gear those
writing skills towards fundraising. The Bible is not all about history and our
understanding. Often we find even higher callings. As I’m sure you’re well
aware Trey, all noble pursuits need money.” He sighed and leaned back in
his chair. “Also, I would suggest that you take some classes that would be
good for missionary work as a back-up.”
“I appreciate that Dean. I will certainly take all your advice under the
highest of consideration.”
“This is what I am going to do,” he continued. “Typically, Christ for the
Nations pairs up six guys to a room. But, as a special case for Jason Murdock
and the respect we share for his father, I am going to put you two in a private
room. Additionally, you should never feel hesitant to come to me directly
with any questions or concerns you have.”
“Dean Jordan,” I spoke.
“Yes,” he answered.
“It is my understanding that the boys’ dorms are a renovated Marriott
Hotel. Is that correct?”
Yes, indeed. That is correct.”
“Well, I don’t mean to push. But would it be fair to say that Christ for the
Nations has an interest in Dr. Mike Murdock knowing that the school has
afforded both Jason and myself the highest-quality living environment?”
“Of course,” he agreed, “most definitely.”
“Well, I only have one more question.” I leaned forward. “Dean Jordan,
does your renovated Marriott Hotel still have Presidential Suites?”
A couple of hours later, I stood next to my best friend, Jason Murdock, on
one of the top-level balconies of the most prestigious Christian school in
the United States, Christ for the Nations. The window to our room overlooked
the brilliant lights of the entire Dallas skyline. I popped the cork on a bottle
of Martini and Rossi and poured the bubbly liquid to the rim of two glasses.
“This is really happening Jason.”
“I’ve got to hand it to you Trey.” He took a sip. “When you put your mind
to something, you actually make it work. The whole world is smoke and
mirrors; but when you say it—whether it is bad or good—you actually seem
to make it happen. Now let me ask you something. Did you did bring any
“Yeah, I . . . uh . . . I put them in the closet. Why?”
“Oh, I just wanted to look at one.” He went inside.
“Did you find them?” I called out loud enough for him to hear.
“Yeah, I got one!” he shouted back. “Give me a minute. I want to try
He came walking out with a fully-loaded paintball gun in his hand and a
burned glass pipe dangling from his lips. Rolling the glass bowl back and
forth with a lighter underneath, he inhaled a stream of smoke.
“Is that meth, you moron? This is our first night here and you’re already
smoking crystal meth in our dorm room!”
“Yep. It’s meth,” he answered while holding the smoke into his lungs.
“And if that bothers you, then you better shut your eyes, because you are
about to be really offended.”
He pointed the barrel of the paintball gun towards the cars on the freeway
numerous stories below our balcony.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! It was rapid-fire, as fast as he could pull the
trigger and contain the smug look on his face.
“You dumbass!” I grabbed him by the throat and thrust him backwards.
As I forced him into the room he continued to pull the trigger. Paint pellets
splattered the ceiling and the walls as I pinned him to the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I raged. “I just fought to get us into the
premier Christian school in the country and the first thing you do is get high
on narcotics and start shooting at vehicles from the balcony?”
“What is your problem?” He smacked my arm from his throat. “I am just
trying to have a good time for once. Just like you. I have been through hell
for the last little while. I thought this might be a good chance to let off some
“A good chance to get us kicked out is what it is Jason. Where is your
head at? This is a chance for something real. I am not digging my way out of
one pit just to crawl back into another one. This is a start to a new life for
me. Not just some new situation I can screw off on a lifelong mission to
burn as many bridges as I can.”
“Look Trey.” He sat up and straightened his shirt. “I know you are on this
whole ‘find God’ trip. But that is not what this place is about. This place
isn’t about finding God. This place isn’t about becoming holy.” He waved
his arm to the room around us. “This is the place where they separate the
wolves from the sheep. And if you keep trying to be a sheep while going to
wolf-training school, then not only are you about to get sheared, but you’re
in for the biggest mental ass-whupping of your life. You are welcome to do
that to yourself, but don’t you dare try and pull me into the bowels of this
twisted hell with you.”
“Trey, I take that back. Maybe you were meant to come to this place. You
came here in search of the very God you grew up hearing about from your
mother, your father, your grandfather, your great-grandmother. Well,
congratulations. You’ve arrived at the ivory tower, the pinnacle, the holiest
of holies. You have just arrived at the very place where you will find out the
most frightening and liberating truth. There is no God.”
“Oh yeah Jason?” I calmed down and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
“And how exactly do you figure that?”
“Because Trey—” His eyes became intense. “If there really was a God,
then He would never allow my father, Mike Murdock, or any of these other
lying, cheating, stealing TV f*cks to exist. Tomorrow, you’ll meet my dad.
By the end of the month, you’ll have rubbed shoulders with every coked-up
whoremonger in Christian television. Once you’ve gotten a little more of a
taste of this world, then you come back to me with your whole book full of
newly-found, holier-than-thou morals and self-righteous bullshit. Until then
Trey, do me one favor—just hand me my meth pipe.”
Part of Chapter Ten
“O Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” Dr. Mike Murdock cried aloud,
his black beard and hair helmet gleaming, to a cast of thousands in a large
church in downtown Dallas. You could see the sparkle of gold from his
diamond rings and the reflection of light from his Rolex watch even at the
back of the room.
“Oh friends! Oh my dear, dear friends! Can you feel the Spirit of God
moving in this auditorium tonight? Can you feel it? Can you feel it? Can you
feel it?” He got so excited that he had to wipe the running streams of mascara
from his brow. “Wisdom is the key. Wisdom is the ultimate thing. The Creator
of the heavens and the earth is calling you tonight. Can you hear Him friends?
I say again—can you hear Him friends? Tonight you stand on the very tip,
the verge, the edge of something new. I tell you friends, that every demon in
hell is fighting your mind right now. They are fighting you because you are
about to step out in an act of faith. Are you going to live in fear? Or are you
going to live in faith? Are you going to succumb to the same fear that has
bound you for your whole life? God is asking you to take action tonight.
When Elijah came to the widow woman it cost her something. It cost her
stepping out in faith, and the reward was great. In Malachi 3:6 we read, ‘. . .
bring ye all the tithes into the store-house that there may be food in my house.’ It goes
on to say: ‘Test Me in this.’ Do you hear that friends? This is God speaking.
He says: ‘Test Me in this! Test Me in this! Test Me in this!’ Am I beginning to
shake it into your heads ladies and gentleman? ‘Test Me in this and see if I will
not pour out so much blessing that you will not have room to receive it.’ The Lord God
is declaring that you ‘Test Him’ tonight. Test Him to see if He will not fulfill
His own promise to bring so much increase into your storehouse that you
will not have room to receive it.”
He leaned forward and brought his voice to a whisper in the microphone
for emphasis. “But there is a condition, isn’t there?” Mike held one pudgy
finger before his own face. “You must first bring your tithes into God’s
“I feel the Spirit moving friends!” His body began to dramatically shake
as a music team started to play behind him.
“This is my favorite part,” Jason leaned in to whisper. “It’s like sadistic
clockwork. No matter how many times I see this shit, I still can’t believe the
gag works. I call it, the filtration trick. He’s ultimately going to hit everyone
in the room up for fifty-eight bucks. But first, he has got to milk the crowd
for anyone that has more than that. The beauty is—he actually gets every
sucker in the auditorium to pick themselves as the unlucky losers of the
night. It really is a show worth watching at least once.”
Murdock paced the stage as the music intensified.
“Oh, Holy Spirit . . . Holy Spirit . . . Holy Spirit . . .” He raised his hands
in the air. “I can feel that miracles are about to happen. Assuredly, the presence
of God is in this place. He is working friends. Oh yes, He is working. The
Spirit is stirring. The Spirit is flowing. God Himself is about to move on
some hearts. I can feel Him. I want everyone in this room to open themselves
up to very will of God Himself tonight. Do not be resistant. When God
starts talking about a seed, He is merely preparing you for a harvest. I need
for you to listen to me friends. The voice of God is flowing so crystal clear
that I can understand every word. He is speaking to you sitting out there in
those chairs even as I stand on this stage. These may be some of the most
crucial moments of your lives friends. Let me tell you what God is saying.”
Mike walked to the edge of the softly-lit platform. He gazed across the
crowd. Then he began.
“There are three of you in this place that are meant to give five thousand
dollars tonight.” His voice became deathly serious. “More than that, there
are seventeen people in this auditorium who God is calling to give one
thousand dollars tonight. And . . .” With tears developing in his eyes he
momentarily babbled in a foreign tongue as if inspired by something magical
from above. “There are twenty-two of you that God is calling to give a mere
five hundred dollars tonight. I don’t want to see one person leave that back
door without taking part in what God is doing right here in this place. Don’t
fight the Spirit, friend. Don’t fight it! Don’t fight it! Don’t fight it! You, the
very one who is saying, ‘It’s not me Mike. I don’t have the money to give.’ I
tell you that it is exactly you friend.” He pointed at the audience with an
aggressive and sweeping move of the hand. “There are many of you in this
room who are struggling with a financial issue in your life. Right now it
looks like a mountain. Right now it looks like a hurdle you can’t jump. Maybe
it is a mortgage payment that is past due. Maybe it is the cost of a child who
is on drugs. Maybe it is some kind of legal problem you can’t pay. Maybe it
is a medical issue that is trampling your life. Friend, God doesn’t care what
it is. The only answer to your financial problem is to put your trust in God
tonight, to plant a seed. Following the will of God will never make sense to
your carnal mind. To get the hundredfold, to get the financial blessing, to get
the prosperity of the Heavenly Father poured out on top of you to such a
degree you cannot comprehend it, you must do something you have never
done before. Let me say that again friends: to get something you have never
had before, you must do something you have never done before. That little
bit of money you are trying to hold on to—I want you to let it go tonight. Do
you hear me? I want you to let it go.
“Push fear from your system friend. Don’t let that few thousand dollars,
that couple of hundred bills, that little bit of green paper, be the stronghold
that separates you from God here in this room tonight. While you struggle in
your chair, saying ‘Mike, I don’t have it give,’ I tell you friend, that it is not
me you are struggling with. No. You are struggling and resisting the very
will of God Himself.
“Stop fighting! Stop resisting! Stop shaking your fist in God’s face! Now, I
want to see you getting out your checkbooks all across this auditorium . . .”
“Wow,” I gasped with a look of shock on my face. “I knew he was big into
money collection, but I had no idea it was on this kind of scale. Jason, I have
got to hand it to him. I think your dad has got this collecting-money-for-God
thing down to an art. So how much do you think he’s taking in out of all
this? Forty . . . fifty thousand?”
“What—are you kidding?” He shook his head. “It’s going to keep going
until he has collected every last red cent. And, as I said, after he gets done
shaking out the high dollars, he’ll get everyone else to ‘plant a seed’ and
become a partner for fifty-eight bucks. Then, the service will be over.
For my father, this is barely even a test run. He has taken in more than a
million dollars in a single church service before.”
Looking around the room, I could see an ocean of open checkbooks being
“Keep writing your checks,” Mike called out as he paced the stage. “God
is moving. Keep writing your checks.”
“I don’t think I can listen to too much more of this,” I whispered. “Your
father’s voice is starting to make my head hurt. And my butt already aches
from the hour I’ve been in this chair.”
“I know. I know. It’s kind of eerie,” Jason leaned over to comment. “But,
once you take the idea of God, the cesspool of spiritual hype, all the sticky
little emotions, and the mental manipulation out of the equation, what you’re
left with is a beautifully-oiled money-making machine. And—if you think
this is soul-less—wait until see an episode of his Wisdom Keys TV show. The
wisdom in every teaching is simple: God wants you to prove your faith by
giving your money to Mike Murdock. It may be ugly, but even I’ve got to
respect the talent.”
I was standing with Jason in the dim light of a parking garage by the
backstage, rock-star exit to the auditorium. Mike came briskly out of the
building accompanied by a slender, long-legged, large-breasted twentysomething-
year-old girl and two of his security ushers.
“How is the dorm at Christ for the Nations?” He paused to address Jason
and myself just before getting into his limo.
“It’s great. It’s really great.” We both nodded.
“Jason, I think you are finally on the right track son.” He spoke in a cold,
calculated tone without emotion. “You boys ought to stop by the Hacienda
some night. I’d like to find out exactly what direction the Lord is leading
you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got a private prayer meeting to attend.”
He gave his trademark Mike Murdock semi-serious smirk before crawling
into the back seat with the gorgeous girl in her twenties.
Wow. I have to say, that sounds like a pretty lively prayer meeting to me .. and with so much concern for the big breasted new Christian girl. Only 20, maybe she needs some "Spiritual Wisdom". I am sure they will both be quite "energized" after that prayer meeting.
What is my point of posting the above? The point is to show truly how wicked the heart can be.
Can one claim to be a Christian and do evil? Yes, of course. Matter of fact, look at the Pharisees of Jesus time? Were not many of them rich? Did they not control churches? Like having the highest honors? Did they not want to kill the Son of God?
Perhaps Christians today do not realize how prevelant "wolves in sheep's clothing" are? Could not even half those who call themselves pastors be wolves? Could they not also have such evil in their hearts and do evil deeds in secret? Could they not covet money or another man's wife? Could they not be selfish and immoral, while painting another face while standing in front of you on Sunday morning?
Do not be deceived. There are many who are in the church and not of it. Who serve the false god of mammon, instead of the true and Living God.
Why does God allow such people to have success? I believe the answer can be found in the Old Testament. God says in one passage that he allows witches and false prophets in their midst. And God said the reason He allows is to test the faith of those who are His true followers. God is always testing your heart. Will you seek God or money? Will you seek your own will or that of God?
Do not be deceived. These men on TV who are not prosperity preachers have shown also they have evil in their hearts. Consider some of the big name pastors who believe that one just needs to pray the sinner's prayer one time and that a person does not need to repent of their sins.
Have you not asked yourself, "Why is it these pastors insist you do not have to repent or live right to be saved?" Could it be, because they are evil themselves and live in sin? Could they not also be tares among you? Yet, they wear the right conservative clothing and say the right words.
However, many draw near to God with their mouths, yet their hearts are far from him.
Consider what the very first Christian Handbook says about such ministers who seek money: (click here)