The devil came to me the other day, as he often does, and he said, "Preacher, how about joining me for a little walk. It never hurts to walk and talk a little bit, now does it?" I had to admit that I couldn't see any harm in walking and talking, and so I agreed to walk with him for a little while. He led me out the door of the church and up the street to one of our neighborhood convenience stores. He took me up to the counter and said, "I'll tell you what, I'll buy you one of these lottery tickets. He took out his wallet, flashed a large wad of bills, paid the cashier and handed me the ticket. My hands were trembling as I took it. I knew the jackpot this week was $40 million. "Hang on to that ticket and you will be a big winner," he said. "You won't have to work another day in your life." I didn't want to be impolite, so I discreetly put the ticket into my pocket as we left the store, thinking to myself, "I'll tear it up later, after he's gone."

Then he took me up and showed me all the great pulpits of the church in a moment in time. I saw Riverside Church, and the pulpit of the great Harry Emerson Fosdick, and the Crystal Cathedral in all of its splendor. I imagined myself in a beautiful blue robe, preaching to a television audience of millions. "All of this can be yours," he said. "I can build you a cathedral even bigger and grander than this one, and you will have more viewers than any other preacher in history. To you I will give all of this authority and glory, for it is mine to give, and I can give it to whomever I choose. If you help elect me Bishop, it shall all be yours."

I gulped as I looked at all of those influential pulpits in big churches that are coveted by so many preachers but I want you to know that somehow I managed to say, "No, thank you, I'll stay here in my little church where I'm loved and appreciated."

And then the devil took me to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. He let me look through the telescope they have up there at a net he had set up on the pavement below. There was a large crowd gathered around the net. They were chanting, "Go go go, go for it." I could see the television crews from CBS, ABC and CNN setting up to film the action. "Go ahead, jump," the devil said. "It's never been done before. Just think, you will be in The Guinness Book of World Records. There will be endorsements, talk shows, movie contracts. Think of all the souls you will be able to save when you are famous. Don't worry about the risk. God will keep you safe. Come on, go for it."

I think that was when I fainted. I'm afraid of heights. And when I came to, the devil was gone, at least for the time being. But I have a feeling that I've not seen the last of him.

Come to think of it I still have that lottery ticket here in my pocket. I'll put it over here in front of the altar for safe keeping. If any of you would like to have it, you are welcome to take it and scratch it off.

Author's Note: I tell this story as part of a sermon on temptation. I buy an actual lottery ticket at a local convenience store, the kind one has to scratch off to win. Then I place it on a stand in front of the altar and use it as a symbol of temptation in our society. I tell the congregation that I was led to purchase it, but not to scratch it off. I give them permission to scratch it off if they wish. In one church where I told the story, people asked me for months afterwards if I ever scratched off that ticket. I never did.