Preachers love to tell tall tales to keep their audience in a good (and giving) mood. But Brother Burnburger's buffoonery shows him up as a fraud.
Brother Burnburger's Pedigree
Excerpt of my book: Big Bucks and the Boogerman
narrated by my cartoon character, Tex the Longhorn Steer
* * * * *
I know Boaz the Bible bullock begot every begetter that begot me, but this preacher's got more pedigrees than a purple Pekingese poodle!
It wasn't hard for Cowboy Cody to like his new senior pastor…as a good buddy. But as a pastor, he was a disaster. Even though Brother Bart Burnburger had a long string of divinity degrees, Cody wondered if he'd bought 'em over the Internet. Brother Bullard had just moved on to greener pastures, fed up with the lean pickings at Big Sky Assembly. Miraculously, Cody hadn't been kicked out of church after givin' his sermon on how sleazy pulpiteers make big money out of the unpardonable sin. Once Brother Bullard saw that most of the congregation sided with Cody, he'd just left in a huff. Now all them good folks would'a just let Cody have Brother Bullard's pulpit in a minute, but Cody hadn't finished doin' the lessons for his Open Pastures Cemete…ah….Seminary Course yet. So Brother Bullard's senior elder had been unanimously voted in to fill his vacant pulpit.
Brother Burnburger was a big ox of a man, full of laughs and fun. He had thick black hair, coppery skin and green eyes that twinkled whenever he warmed up his sermon with jokes…clean ones, of course. His flock did their duty by showin' up at church each and every Sunday, and they figured if Brother Burnburger entertained 'em in the pulpit he wouldn't have much time left to preach on the three Wild West sins of drinkin', womanizin', and gamblin'.
Cowboy Cody said to me one day as he was fillin' my water trough, "Tex, Brother Burnburger is like a bag of pork rinds. Either you love him or you can't stand him. He's like a breath of fresh air after puttin' up with that ornery 'ol buzzard Brother Bullard. Oops!" Cody laid his hand across his mouth. "Did I just gossip? Sorry, Lord, I'm just talkin' to a rodeo steer. But he's one step away from Clayton or Chester."
"Mooo!" I answered, with a toss of my horns. Cowboy Cody looked all around to make sure the other guys weren't around to razz him before he told me more.
Cowboy Cody liked to practice his sermons on critters who couldn't offer much negative feedback. So part of my job was to pretend to be a pew-warmer. And I could sympathize with Cody for havin' to sit through Brother Burnburger's long-winded performances. Cody told me laughter is good for a weary soul, but he had started to wonder if that preacher ever had anything important to say between his jokes and tall tales. But it came to pass that one of Cody's church buddies lassoed Brother Burnburger with one of his own yarns.
Brother Burnburger had one big fault: He liked to brag on himself every now and then. That particular Sunday he wanted to get the congregation in a good mood to introduce a subject he hadn't touched on yet: tithin'. Here's the gist of what he said:
"Saints, we are called to be heroic. Givers are heros. I've got quite a few heroes in my family tree. My forbears came from all walks of life and from every corner of Planet Earth. Just look at me. I'm a real duke's mixture. My great-great-great Grandpa was an Injun medicine man, Big Chief Pophattan, who introduced the early settlers to the joys of popcorn."
Brother Max raised his hand and asked, "What tribe did he come from?" Cody warned him to hush up.
"Ah….uh…the Communchies, I think. But by no means is he the greatest of the great. My most famous ancestor sailed on the Mayflower. I forgot his exact name, but he was the skinny kid who sat up in the crow's nest to take pot shots at pirate ships. I think he was half Irish and three quarters Portuguese."
"Then there's my great-great-great-great granddad Luke. He was a black dude who started life as a field hand chopping cotton. But the day came when Massa promoted Luke to be a butler. Then Luke got the position of Massa's personal valet, the cushiest job in the Big House. Not long after that, Massa's wife ran off with another man, takin' their whole passel of kids with her.
"Years later, Massa still hadn't kissed and made up with his wife and none of his kids wanted anything to do with him. Massa got arthritis so bad Luke was at his bedside night and day, doctoring him up and waiting on him hand and foot. Massa had a great big swig of whiskey and told Luke he was so grateful for his TLC he swore by his good name that he'd give him anything he wanted. Luke was a young man and thought of asking for his freedom so he could go up North and start a new life of liberty for himself. Instead, he thought of something even more lucrative. He took a deep breath, then asked Massa if he'd bequeath all his worldly goods to him in his will. Just to spite his wayward family, Massa got out a big bottle of White Out and blotted those ornery whites out of his will. He gladly made Luke his sole heir, seein' as he had nobody else to leave his worldly goods to.
"Wasn't long after that Massa died of a heart attack and Luke found himself the massa of the whole cotton' pickin' plantation. He was far ahead of his time and paid union wages to his cotton pickers. But then the night riders came to lynch Luke for his good luck. Just before the Bedsheet Brigade could grab him, Union soldiers charged over the horizon and chased 'em all away. Luke was so grateful he treated the whole platoon to fried catfish and mint juleps. Before you know it Luke turned the plantation into a great big B and B, a bed and barbeque for Yankees in blue a-passin' through."
"There was another white guy, my Great-great Grandpa Sacre Bleu, who lived in Paris. He invented the Escargot, a horseless carriage which ran on olive oil. Ol' Sacre's idea never got off the ground, though. Black Oil was where the green cash was."
"Then there's Bartimaeus Burnburger, my great-great Granddad from Bavaria. He married Rosita, a full-blooded Gypsy. He brewed beer while she fiddled. Not to mention Won Ton, my great grand-uncle, twice removed. Born in China, he started his own fortune cookie factory with five pennies in his pocket."
"What province of China was he from?" a missionary lady in the front row asked him.
"Hop Sing, I think." Brother Burnburger scratched his head.
The preacher had 'em all in stitches with this one: "Not to mention Horace Gyroscope, another relative on the far end of my tree. He was a Grecian naturopath who sailed to Africa to breed zorbas."
"But the whole point I was trying to make is this, folks: All these people in my family tree worked hard to be a success in life. They all helped make me what I am, and now it's time to apply this lesson. Be a hero, saints. WORK hard to support this wondrous work at Big Sky Assembly. Money represents your work. And to be blunt about it, God expects ten percent of everything you earn to go back into the place where you're being fed week by week. You wouldn't go through the MacDonald's drive-through, snatch the food and then drive off without paying your bill, would you?"
Cody could have died when good buddy Max asked the pastor: "Is there any Jew in you?"
Brother Burnburger gave Max a meat-cleaver look. "What're you doing, interrupting my sermon again? And what did you just say?"
"IS THERE ANY JEW IN YOU?" And that made Cody duck his head and sink lower into his seat. Was Max so hyper he couldn't hold his peace till the service was over?"
"What's that got to do with the price of fish in Denmark?" Brother Beanburger growled.
"Well, Brother Burnburger, you've gone on and on about how the whole human race went into manufacturin' you, but not once did you lay claim to Jewish ancestry."
"Well, so what?"
Brother Burnburger was gettin plenty of attention by now, especially from Cowboy Cody. "I learnt the real truth about tithin', Brother Burnburger. Only men descended from Levi have got the right to take tithes."
"Well, Mr. Bible Expert, it just so happens my granddaddy on my mother's side was a 'Levi'. Levi Davis, to be exact.
"But not Levi Cohen or Levi Levine?" Max shot back.
"Well, what's so special about 'Cohen' or 'Levine'?" Brother Burnburger asked, wonderin' what ace Max had up his sleeve.
"'Cohen' means 'priests' in Hebrew," Max let him know. "And "Levine" is a form of "Levi". There's just a handful of very special names which a few Jews have which make 'em fairly confident that they truly are descended from Levi, Israel's priestly tribe. And even so, they don't pay tithes to any Temple in Jerusalem today, for the simple reason it was destroyed and hasn't been rebuilt yet. If you'll bother to read your Bible, Pastor, you'll see that only the Levites were ever permitted to take tithes of the children of Israel. Here, I have it dog-eared in my Bible, 'cause I just knew you'd bring up the subject sometime. Okay if I read it out loud, Pastor?"
Every eye was fixed on Brother Burnburger. If he said 'no', they'd all know he was tryin' to hide somethin'. So he gritted his teeth and said, "I guess. "Come up front and read it."
So Max took the pulpit. Pastor Burnburger sat in a nearby chair and watched him like a hawk. Max read Numbers 18:21: And behold, I have given the children of Levi all the tenth in Israel for an inheritance, for their service which they serve, even the service of the Tabernacle of the Congregation.
Then to keep it short and sweet, Max skipped down to verse 24: But the tithes of the children of Israel, which they offer up as an heave offering unto the Lord, I have given to the Levites to inherit: therefore I have said unto them, Among the children of Israel they shall have no inheritance.
"I'll just pause right there a moment, Brother Burnburger. Didn't you just tell everyone how one of your great-granddaddies inherited a cotton plantation?"
"Yeah, what of it?"
"Well, the real Levites weren't allowed to inherit real estate in the land. Aside from that, just what sort of tithes were the Levites allowed to take? Y'all turn to with me please to Leviticus 27:30 and we'll start readin'. And all the tithe OF THE LAND, whether of the seed of the land, or of the fruit of the tree, is the Lord's. It is holy unto the Lord. And if a man will at all redeem ought of his tithes, he shall add thereto the fifth part thereof. That means if you wanted to buy back the crops you tithed, you'd have to pay a twenty per cent surcharge for doin' so. Verse 32 talks about tithes on livestock: And concerning the tithe of the herd, or of the flock, even of whatsoever passeth under the rod, the tenth shall be holy unto the Lord."
Max cracked everybody up with this one: Now, Brother Burnburger, I can't imagine you'd see a twenty-dollar bill gallopin' by to pass under the preacher's rod to be counted.
"Okay if I go on, Brother Burnburger? After all, this is your church."
The good pastor was too speechless to stop him. And he wanted everybody to like him so he bit his tongue and held his peace.
"Now, we'll find out what those tithes were collected for," Max said. He read from Deuteronomy 14, beginning with verse 22. He resurrected Scripture bypassed by money-hungry preachers. The tithe was farm products, plain and simple, given by God to be eaten at a big thanksgiving feast by all the people, not just the leadership. And tithes were collected to feed poor folks and widows, not to pay for a new Mercedes.
"No, Brother Burnburger. Those tithes weren't made of money. It's even disputable that the cotton Luke picked could'a been tithed on, seein' as it can't be eaten. Tithes were groceries, plain and simple. They were burgers. They were steaks. They were wheat flour pounded into tortillas. Even wine and strong drink were served at those feasts. Those people had a ball praisin' and worshippin' God together as they ate the fruits of the Land in His Presence. Now if you truly wanted to observe proper tithin' procedure, you'd need to do the same as they did and even allow Coors to be served on the premises. But my last point is: Who was that tithin' law for in the first place? That passage we read from Leviticus Chapter 27 comes right before the end of the whole book, and we'll start readin' from verse 34, which is the very next verse we see after instructions on proper tithin' procedure are given. These are the commandments which the Lord commanded Moses FOR THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL in Mount Sinai. Now who were they for, saints?" Max cupped his hand to his ear.
"FOR THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL!" a few bright-eyed people called. By now, Brother Burnburger was wigglin' and jigglin' in his fancy chair.
"And which place were those commandments given from?" Max asked.
"FROM MOUNT SINAI!" a couple of others shouted, as if the lights suddenly went on in their hearts and they finally understood.
"That's just my point, people," Max said. Those ceremonial laws were given BY MOSES TO THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL in MOUNT SINAI. In Hebrews and Galatians you'll read some pretty scary things about Mount Sinai, that it is a place of bondage, not of liberty in Christ Jesus. It was a place of thunderings and lightnings where Moses said, "I exceedingly fear and quake." A place the people were afraid to draw near unto God's Holy Presence because they knew they were sinners who couldn't keep the Law. In Romans 8:15 Paul says: Ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of Adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.
"Now I'll read Hebrews Chapter 5, verses 14 to 16: Seeing then that we have a great High Priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the Throne of Grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.
The sanctuary grew quiet. Max bowed his head and said, "Thank you, Jesus, that we are no longer standin' at Mount Sinai, the place of the Law which can only serve to condemn us for our failures. but instead we're standin' at Mount Calvary, where we have been set free from the bondage of the claims of broken law.
Max looked up and asked the congregation, "Can't y'all see some of us are doin' just what Luke the field hand did? He had the chance to take his freedom and leave the old plantation far, far behind. But Luke found the place of slavery and bondage so lucrative he still hung around, thinking it would make him a rich man. And that place of bondage almost killed him. Ain't it funny, brothers and sisters, that some preachers preach liberty, but still hang around Mount Sinai to make an easy buck out of it? Think we're still under the Law of Moses which proceeded from Mount Sinai? If you say we are, then we can't be under grace at the same time. Mount Calvary is a far better place to be because it makes us free men and women. If you think we have to keep the tithin' part of the Old Covenant, then we've also gotta go back and keep all the animal sacrifices, and certain other laws I'd rather not mention with ladies present. But none of the ceremonial laws can be twisted to bilk money outa God's people, except for tithin'…and First Fruits, which, by the way, meant the first of the fruit of the Land, not the fruit of the Federal Mint. Read all of Paul's epistles. NOT ONCE do you ever read of Paul takin' up tithes or "First Fruits" offerings to finance his missionary journeys. Paul was a member of the Tribe of Benjamin and he knew he had no right to take tithes from people, especially the Gentiles. Not even Jesus took money tithes to support His own earthly ministry. Aside from the fact money tithes are unscriptural, Jesus didn't even have the right to officiate as a Levitical priest to take tithes of the produce of the Land from worshippers. Jesus is a member of the Tribe of Judah, not Levi."
"Whoa, there, wait just a minute," Brother Burnburger said. "What about that place in Hebrews Chapter 7 where Melchisedek took tithes from Abraham before the Law, and it says that Jesus is our High Priest after the order of Melchisedek? Doesn't that prove that tithing is still in force and He still takes them?"
"But what KIND of tithe did Abraham give Melchidedek?" Max said. "If y'all will turn with me to my other dog-eared Scripture portion, Genesis Chapter 14, I'll explain what that is."
So Max read most of that chapter and dug out some choice nuggets. "What was the SOURCE of Abraham's tithe?" Max asked the crowd. "SODOM was the source of that tithe. Goods plundered from the City of Sodom were rescued by Abraham and his men, along with all the citizens kidnapped by desert desperados. Out of deep gratitude Abraham presented to Melchisedek ten per cent of all that loot. But Abraham didn't keep ninety per cent of the loot for himself. He kept NONE of it, not so much as one shoe string! And nowhere does it say that Abraham ever tithes again, or that he ever pays tithes on his personal property or income. Righteous Abraham actually presented to Melchisedek jewlery and other fine apparel which had been worn by the seediest sinners of them all: the citizens of Sodom. Now if you're gonna tithe the way Abraham did, go rescue a stash of fancy jewelry stolen from some bordello and present ten per cent of it to the Lord."
"Brother, you're way out of order here!" Brother Burnburger warned. "My Bible says the Lord Jesus is a High Priest after the Order of Melchisedek, and it's a sin to say "bordello" and "the Lord" in the same breath!"
"Well, Brother Burnburger, my Bible says that Jesus was the friend of harlots and tax collectors. Jesus would love to save every workin’ gal in the land. My main point is this: Jesus' Melchisedek priesthood doesn't give any preacher the right to take money tithes from poor people or anybody else. It says in Hebrews 7:24 that Jesus has an UNCHANGING priesthood, and that means the Melchisedek priesthood is held by the same Man forever and ever. Now Brother Bullard just quit preachin' here and you've taken his pulpit. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY can ever Jesus' place because He lives forever and ever. Nobody else on earth has got the right to sit in Jesus' office , by playin' deputy High Priest in order to lay claim to tithes of the spoils of war. And that's the only tithe Melchisedek ever took from Abraham. And if we're the children of Abraham by faith, we don't have to pay Levitical tithes either, and even if we did have to pay them, those tithes were on produce and livestock, not on money!"
"God looks at the motive of our hearts," Brother Burnburger said, "and our money represents the fruit of the land, and the land can represent the job we work in. The Bible says New Testament believers are a Royal Priesthood in Christ. Levites took tithes in Bible times. That gives me the right to take tithes too, doesn't it?"
Max grinned and stuck out his hand. "Well, pay up, preacher. I'm in Christ too, and I'm part of that Royal Priesthood. You just told us about all the kinds of folks that went into makin up' Bart Burnburger. And I just asked if there was any Jew in you to get this discussion goin'. I can truly say the King of all the Jews dwell in my heart by faith. And I pretty much doubt Jesus wants me to go fight a bunch of gangsters so I can bring Him a new Rolex or MP3 player."
Max got lots of "amens" out of that one. Then he looked at Cody and said, "And I owe it all to Cody here for teachin' me the real truth about this tithin' thing. God bless you, brother."
Cody stood up and said, "Saints, I wanted to get along better with our new pastor, Brother Burnburger, than I did with Brother Bullard. I was about ready to clobber you, Max, for speakin’ your mind today. But I was the one who was in the wrong. I was beginnin' to get a little bit soft. The Lord has called us to holy boldness and I just felt like keepin' my mouth shut and not makin' any waves. But I gotta answer to Jesus for what I do with the truth, not some man. I didn't know you were part preacher, Max."
Like the humble cowpoke he was, Max hung his head and said, "Cody, you know as well as I do that I'm a bashful guy and I can't hardly string two sentences together. But when the good Lord gives me a word to say, I let Him do the talkin' through me and it makes it a whole lot easier."
Brother Burnburger was plum aggravated. "He didn't say anything through you and you know it! Max Miller, you're a spiritual outlaw so I'll try to communicate on your level: This church ain't big enough for you and me both and if you and your sidekick Cody don't vamoose before I count to seven…"
"Don't draw your pistol, Pastor, we're outa here," Cody said. "C'mon, Max, we're wastin' our time in this dead place."
The two cowpokes put on their Stetsons and headed out the door. And it wasn't long before Big Sky Assembly became the most dried-up religious waterin' hole in Cowpoke County, Texas. Just another religious country club where people emptied their pockets to get their fill of spiritual loco weed every Sunday. As for Cody, he's put his pulpit ambitions on the back burner for awhile as he waits for his Good Shepherd to lead him to a greener pasture to graze in.
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Brother Burnburger's Pedigree
