“This Prosperity Gospel? It Is of the Devil”

With folks still clapping, the Oldman said almost offhandedly:

“This prosperity gospel? It is of the devil.”

It was a stunning statement.

The clapping stopped.

An unappreciative silence descended on the Molue, a mood he correctly read. Nobody said anything. He quickly backtracked, although it took me a long time to realise that he was not really backtracking at all. This was a deliberate, carefully thought-out attack on a doctrine he considered completely false.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What I mean is, this prosperity gospel, e de do me somehow!”

That drew laughter. Relieved laughter.

“A few times,” he continued, “some of their praise songs sound like the kiss of Judas. Cold-blooded betrayal.”

By now it was raining heavily, and the sound of the raindrops striking the metal roof of the Molue was distinct, like thousands of tiny metal beads.

“For instance, why was it necessary to betray Jesus with a kiss?”

He had everyone’s attention. He left the question hanging in the air for a few seconds, then asked again:

“Why was a kiss necessary?”

The young student answered with a question.

“Perhaps he had a problem with what Jesus was teaching?”

“No!” the Oldman shot back. “If he had a problem with the Lord’s teachings, he would have stood like a real man, pointed at Jesus and shouted his grievances as he directed the Roman soldiers to the Lord!”

The student nodded.

“That was exactly what St. Paul did!” the Oldman continued.

“Word!” I exclaimed.

“Paul was a believer in every sense, albeit in the traditions and theology of his fathers. Judas, on the other hand, cared nothing for Jewish tradition or theology. If he did, he would not have spent three years following Jesus all over Judea. And, as it turned out, neither did he care for the teachings of the amazing young Rabbi.

“Judas cared only for himself.”

The noise of the rain seemed almost to pause to allow him to make his next point. I had not noticed it at the time, but listening to the tape recording years later, the background noise seemed to cease altogether.

The Order of St. Judas Iscariot

“Let us leave prosperity teachers and pastors for a moment and talk about prosperity followers. They may not realise it, but Judas Iscariot is their patron saint.”

Then the rain intensified.

The Oldman raised his voice to make himself heard above the hammering on the roof.

“Prosperity followers are, first, the ones with itchy ears. Those are the words of St. Paul. Second, the ones who will not tolerate sound doctrine, the ones who turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. Third, they are the ones who gather around themselves teachers to suit their own desires.

“They are knights of the rapscallion Order of Judas, and their pastors are the Supreme Knights, Grand Advocates of the Order of St. Judas Iscariot!”

No one said a word.

It had become unbearably humid inside the Molue.

“You have digressed,” I said.

“Thank you,” he replied, nodding solemnly and patting me on the back.

Once again, I felt useful to this ministry I had somehow just become part of.

May the Testimony of Demas Not Be Yours

“May the testimony of Demas not be your testimony, in Jesus’ name!” the Oldman proclaimed.

“Amen!” we responded.

“Say a louder Amen!”

“AMEN!”

“Say a louder Amen!”

“AMEN!”

“Now,” the Oldman said, “this is why you must say an Amen louder than that. In Philemon, Demas is praised by St. Paul. St. Paul calls him a ‘fellow worker.’ Amen?”

“Amen!”

“He is mentioned by Paul as a fellow worker alongside Mark and Luke. Mark wrote the Gospel of Mark, and Luke the doctor wrote the Gospel of Luke. Gospels which have been read for thousands of years.

“There is no Book of Demas.

“Think about that.

“Nothing more is heard from Demas. The last words written about him in the Bible are: ‘For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica.’”

He paused.

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, for no reason at all.

But perhaps there was a reason. The fact that he was doing all this for the love he had for Christ was inescapable.

He patted me on the shoulder and continued.

Back to Judas

“Back to Judas,” he said.

“Having betrayed Jesus with the barely disguised mockery of a kiss, Judas was himself immediately betrayed by Satan, also in a barely disguised manner.

“How do I know?

“He hanged himself!

“He had lost God, yes, but at least he still had his thirty pieces of silver. He might have steeped himself in River Lethe and tried to come to terms with his loss of God. Perhaps he might even have beaten a retreat to the Cross. I can only guess.

“But the loss of God was acute, and in all likelihood it was made worse by the barely disguised mockery of Satan.”

He paused again.

“Perhaps Satan called him a betrayer. Perhaps Satan said to him, ‘Get out of my sight, you betrayer!’”

Then, raising his voice, he asked:

“Would that be too mean for Satan to do?”

No one said a thing.

“Left desolate, bereft of hope, he killed himself!”

We all clapped.

“Thank you, Sir,” I heard myself saying on the tape as the applause continued.

I remember feeling grateful to God for this strange man who laboured so hard for the Gospel of Christ.

He nodded, rested his hand briefly on my shoulder and eased himself back into his seat.

“May the testimony of Judas and Demas not be your testimony, in Jesus’ name!”

The Molue erupted.

“AMEN!”

Rain on the Roof of the Molue

This was already a Wednesday to remember forever.

It had begun with the Lord speaking to me as I stood beside the railway track, calling me by my name and saying, laconically:

“I change!”

Rain had now been falling steadily for almost an hour.

The raindrops kept up their staccato rhythm on the metal roof of the Molue, but somehow the noise seemed perfect after the Oldman’s long homily. It gave every passenger a private space, framed by the sound of rain, in which to think.

But the Oldman was not finished.

He suddenly stood up and pointed at the young student.

“Can you please pray for the rain to stop?”

Traffic was at a standstill, and it had become unbearably hot inside the bus.

“I’m an atheist,” the young student replied, laughing.

“Well, tell the rain to stop then!”

“I can’t. It’s an act of God. I mean…”

“I get your point,” the Oldman said wickedly. “Just pray. Say anything!”

The young man thought for a moment.

“Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day. Amen!”

Everyone laughed.

“Great!” said the Oldman. “One last thing. Say, ‘In Jesus’ name.’”

“In Jesus’ name,” the young atheist said, wearing a huge smile.

And the Rain Stopped

It was not immediate.

But within a minute, the sound of rain falling on the metal roof of the Molue ceased completely.

We all noticed.

It was unremarkable, really. It could have been coincidence. These things happen.

But then the sun came out.

And then the floodwaters on the road began to ebb.

And because the waters ebbed, traffic started moving. Cars which had invaded other lanes because of the flooding began returning to their proper lanes.

In less than two minutes after the prayer of the young atheist, we were moving at a steady pace again.

Fresh air rushed into the Molue.

It was bearable again.

“Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” Gladstine shouted.

“Rain, Rain, Go Away”

Eventually, the Molue driver stopped and asked everyone to come down. Many passengers had remained aboard longer than they normally would because of the rain and flooding.

“Oya! Everybody come down!” the conductor shouted. “If you stay, you go pay again o! Even if na Herbert Macaulay you de go!”

“Can we pray for the rain to start again?” the young student quipped. “My bus stop still de for front!”

Everyone laughed.

The Oldman was already making announcements as we climbed down from the Molue.

“Wednesday and Saturday! Catechism class! Do not forget! I want to see every one of you there!”

Then, remembering the atheist’s prayer, he added:

“If anybody comes from this Molue, just say, ‘Rain, rain, go away,’ and I will consent to your immediate baptism! You come, we will baptise you. Rain, rain, go away!”

What a day.

Then he turned to me.

“You have to be going back now.”

The Oldman removed the stick handle from the collection bag and handed it to me.

“See you Wednesday. Bring it with you.”

And just like that, my first day in this strange ministry was over.

Don Kenobi
#MyFrancisEssays
#OldManInTheMolue 
Excerpt: The Oldman In The Molue

Scripture References

2 Timothy 4:3–4: “For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine…”

Philemon 24: Paul includes Demas among his “fellow workers.”

2 Timothy 4:10: “For Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica.”