Sticking a toe in the water

Most everybody reading this column will understand the sentence, "Stick in a toe to test the water."

For those who take baths rather than showers to get clean, the phrase speaks to practicality.

Gauging the heat of water before lowering yourself into a bathtub is a necessary step, and sticking in a toe is long accepted as a reasonable precaution.

Allow me to expand the metaphor a bit.

Powerball

Over the last few weeks, the government-sponsored Powerball jackpot has continued to grow, as it is available in 45 states.

Tuesday morning, Nov. 8, it was revealed one winner had emerged with the estimated $2.04 billion winnings from a ticket sold in California.

That's 2 with 9 zeros behind it.

It is a staggering amount of money and my confession is -- when Powerball gets this high -- I stick my toe in the water a bit and pony up for a single ticket.

I'm not a gambler by nature and never have felt the need to call 1-888-BETSOFF.

Since Aug. 1, 2013, Missouri Lottery has offered a program, alluded to in the phone number above, allowing people who classify themselves as problem or pathological gamblers to reduce their incentive to play.

These are voluntary self-ban agreements prohibiting people from claiming prizes of more than $600.

Church influence

My religious denomination, in its social principles, reserves its harshest words for gambling.

To wit: "Gambling is a menace to society, deadly to the best interests of moral, social, economic and spiritual life. [It is] destructive of good government and good stewardship. As an act of faith and concern, Christians should abstain from gambling and should strive to minister to those victimized by the practice."

Reader, you may read this and wonder if the straightforward language of the "principles" applies to games such as Powerball.

It does, unreservedly, apply to public lotteries.

The church gives a laundry list of gambling options to avoid -- whether the games are played "as a recreation, as an escape, as a means of producing public revenue or as funds for support of charities and government."

I get it but still stick my toe in when the jackpot gets exceptionally high. I still reach into my trouser pocket for $2 for a single chance.

I'm aware lots were cast for the clothing of Jesus of Nazareth as he was dying on the cross.

Men gambled for the Lord's attire.

I'm aware gambling is magical thinking and am familiar with the long odds.

I'm 300 times more likely to be struck by lightning than hit the Powerball jackpot.

I get it but still stick my toe in when the jackpot is so tempting.

During my pastoral ministry, I once preached a sermon on gambling and mentioned all of the points made in this missive.

Someone after church that day asked if, as pastor, I would accept lottery winnings placed in the offering plate.

The hypothetical scenario assumes my awareness of the source of the money but let's go along with the notion.

I thought about my answer for a moment and eventually said "yes," remembering the words of a late and world renowned Roman Catholic saint.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta, in what may be an urban legend, was once challenged about the purportedly nefarious origins of some of the funds given to her Missionaries of Charity ministry in India.

To put it simply, Teresa was asked how she justified taking money from what were allegedly criminal elements.

Her answer made perfect sense to me.

"The devil's had it long enough," she said.

Drilling down

I accept what my church teaches about gambling.

However, I also know my buying a Powerball ticket is a lark, a participation in a cultural phenomenon -- and nothing more.

In fact, if I actually won, which didn't happen, my life would become unrecognizable.

Every relationship going forward likely would engender suspicion in me, thinking Bob or Judy or Walter only cared for me due to my sudden windfall wealth.

It's far better not to believe in magic to fuel one's dreams.

My Lord cares for me whether I'm wealthy or socioeconomically poor.

Jesus himself was essentially a pauper, dependent on the largesse of others.

I know all of this but magic continually does battle with my better angels.

The knowledge probably will not keep me from sticking my toe in the water again and saying the following at some point in the future.

"One ticket, please."