Bribing for Jesus

By Thomas Quinn

The Holy Spirit meets Let’s Make a Deal this Easter as the affable Pastor Bill Cornelius, of the Bay Area Fellowship Church in Corpus Christi, Texas, hands out over $2 million in donated gifts during his Sunday service to boost attendance. The goodies include 16 cars, 15 flat-screen TVs, laptop computers and even furniture. He’ll present tens of thousands of dollars worth of donated products during each sermon, and he expects about 15,000 people to attend. So, what exactly is going through his head?

“The ultimate giveaway is the free gift of heaven and Christ, but it is difficult to put a value on what can’t be seen,” Cornelius says. “We hope to show people that, while it is exciting to receive free stuff here on Earth, the greatest free gift of all time is something we haven’t yet seen, but can enjoy for all eternity.”

Now for those who are quick to say the good reverend is bribing people to attend church—well, yeah, he is. But this idea has a long and storied history in Christian lore. Jesus himself offered free food, free single-provider healthcare (there were no Republicans in Galilee), vintage wine if you got him on the right day, and David Copperfield-class magic stunts—all to lure in the masses to his message. Herding fishermen and shepherds was no easy task. The Twelve Apostles were also sent out with great healing powers to impress folks into joining the club (though they didn’t seem to be very successful since we never hear about them). Likewise, Paul offered the occasional miracle cure while trying to convert the pagans. Since then, of course, many Christian missionaries have dropped in on beleaguered peoples with the simple message: “Hungry? Sick? I’ve got something for that. But first I need to straighten out your immortal soul.” Missionaries are special people.

When you think about it, the entire Christian faith works on kind of a bribery principle. Having faith is like paying protection money. “Hey, punk, you don’t know me but I’m working for dis God, see? And he’s gonna do some nice tings for ya. Just keep yer nose clean, you do what yer told, and you’ll be okay. But you rock da boat and it’s gonna be a world ‘a hurt dat don’t never stop. So, what’s it gonna be?” The motivation for your behavior isn’t genuine good will or moral teaching. It’s pain avoidance. The same technique works on lab rats.

Pastor Bill seems like a very nice guy on TV, and he appears to have the best of intensions. But using this game show approach to drive home the “gift of heaven” idea won’t work. It would be great if, on occasion, somebody was guaranteed a place in heaven by choosing what was behind Door Number 3. But there’s a lot more to it. For one thing, the point of salvation being God’s “gift” will be lost amid the full-body orgasms the winners have over nabbing a free car. (Doesn’t Bill ever watch Oprah?)

More importantly, salvation is not a gift. A gift is freely given; you don’t have to do anything for it. This is not the case with eternal life. The biblical God doesn’t just hand those out. Salvation has to be earned, and the record shows this isn’t easy. If you believe the experts, there are a lot of people in hell because there are a lot of things you have to do and say and believe to get a shot at salvation. Apparently, this includes treating myths as history, ignoring a lot of science, and occasionally dying for the cause. Some gift.