This week, however, I came into the store preoccupied with thoughts of money.
I'd spent most of the week crunching numbers, clueless as to how and where to try to raise a final $250,000 for a new building project which would take our community work to a whole new level.
Standing in line at the convenience store, I noticed the jackpot amount scrolling across the display of the lottery machine. I noticed that the amount offered would be ten times the amount required for our project.
My wait in line - and my desperation - was enough to spark a few weird thoughts. What could I do with all that money? Is there a way to increase my chances of winning if I purchased a ticket?
It seems newspaper articles about lottery winners usually focus on the person who buys a ticket at the last minute, so I wondered if I should wait for awhile. Should I pick my own numbers or let the machine pick?
Then I wondered if it would help to make a special deal with God. Forget offering him ten percent. Maybe I should make him an offer he couldn't refuse. I'd offer him ninety and keep only ten percent for myself.
No sooner had the idea formed in my mind, than I waffled. "Would it be okay if I kept twenty five percent? The boys will be going to school and my relatives could use a little help..."
I even wondered if that waffling cost me the winning ticket. After all, God won't let himself get involved in one of those court battles over his percentage of the winnings.
I felt a little ashamed for the silliness. Who am I to think my needs take precedence over anyone else? Then there's the theological question of whether God is in the business of rigging lotteries. I was spending way too much time thinking about all this!
As I reached the cash register, however, I purchased one ticket - just in case...
For me this was a rare thing. As a pastor, however, I've dealt with many folks for whom a casual shot at a dream became an obsession which cost them far more than they were ever likely to gain.
I remembered my friend, Ed. When he stopped by my place, I noticed that he looked a bit sheepish. Eventually, he explained, "I spent all my money on VLT's."
Aware of his lack of disposable income, I asked how he felt. "I'm not asking you for money," he replied. "I figure if I suffer through this I might remember not to do it again. I feel like an idiot. Like I got beat up and humiliated by a little machine."
His story reminded me of my only trip to a casino. We visited one in Minnesota two years ago for a good deal on the buffet.
When I entered, I expected the glitz, glamour, excitement and music of movie casinos. But, instead, the first thing I noticed was the eerie silence in the room. People sat mesmerized, tired or depressed in front of an amazing array of machines. I couldn't tell if they were still chasing the jackpot or just desperate to recoup their losses.
I saw the five cent slot machines and figured I would spend a dollar to see if I could win a little more. It took me less than five minutes to lose my dollar.
It was depressing. I've never tried and failed at something so often in so short a time. I could see how someone without a firm sense of boundaries could lose their soul before finding the exit.
A friend recently explained that in his culture, a little gambling is perceived as a prerequisite to prosperity. Like playing the stock market. "It's like there's no chance of reaping good fortune if you don't sow a little opportunity."
On the other hand, one of our parishioners did a report for school entitled, "Why Gambling is Stupid."
She discussed the eighteen gambling options available at the convenience store. She quoted stats regarding the prevalence of problem and pathological gambling. She described the odds against winning and the impact of gambling addictions on families, employment, housing and health.
By the time you read this, I'll likely have checked this morning’s paper and confirmed my losing numbers. No lucky break. Two dollars further from my dream.
I think next time I'll save my money...
Rev. Harry Lehotsky
514 Maryland Street
Winnipeg, Mb R3G 1M5
(204) 775-4929
lehotsky@escape.ca