Oops! I forgot one. And it's serious. Saint Peter says I also caused the untimely death of two first-century Christians. I say I didn't. You decide.

You may remember from the Gospels that Jesus always loved to belt out these communist-sounding one-liners, such as: "Hardly shall any rich man enter the kingdom of Heaven," and: "A camel shall pass through the eye of a needle sooner than a rich man shall be allowed into the kingdom of God." If you wish to be his disciple, he said, again and again, over and over, you must do three things:

1. Sell all that you have.

2. Give all to the poor.

3. Leave all and follow him.

Church authorities from Saint Peter to Kenneth Copeland are unanimous that Jesus actually intended to say something more along these lines (my paraphrase):

1. Buy low, sell high.

2. Give all to the poor, and they will waste it on liquor and lottery tickets. Give instead to the organised Church.

3. Keep 90% for yourself, and follow those one-way signs in the church parking lot.

The Church's orthodox position has always been that Jesus requires no one, not even the Twelve original disciples, to take his ascetic side too literally. Simon Peter gave up his original career, true, but as a fisherman pulling carp and sardines from Lake Gennesaret, he had nothing to lose (Matt. 17:27). Later, as first Pope of the Christian Church, Peter saw his disposable income skyrocket, and Jesus was happy for him. In the words of Rev. Kenneth Copeland, "Invest heavily in God: the returns are staggering!"

But there is a fool born again every minute. Ananias and Sapphira were first-century Jews, a young childless couple whom Saint Peter had personally brought to the Lord. And when these two kids got saved, they were so happy to have their sins forgiven, and so utterly without sound investment counsel, that they took quite literally Jesus' teaching that Christians must sell what they own and give all to the poor.

Here's the story, from Acts, chapter 5:

Ananias and Sapphira had bought a lot in east Jerusalem, where they hoped someday to build a little stone bungalow and start a family. When they got saved, however, they promised Simon Peter that they'd sell the land instead, and give him the full proceeds, for distribution to the poor.

The day came, the lot sold. I forget the selling price. It wasn't much – less than you'd pay today for an Ipod or a pair of Reeboks – but the two young Christians were thrilled. Better to have a mansion in Heaven forever, they thought, than a little stone bungalow someday with two kids and our own donkey in east Jerusalem! Ananias and Sapphira put the cash from the sale of their property into a satchel and got dressed for church. They seemed almost recklessly happy to be giving all to the poor, and to be following Jesus.

Then, evidently, a soft, inner voice whispered in the ear of Ananias (it wasn't me, but Peter would later blame me for it): "Oh, Christ!" said the still, soft voice, "am I sure I want to do this? All of it?"

Sapphira heard it, too: "Jesus!" she prayed, "what on Earth were we thinking of?"

Wherever it came from, that inner voice was doing no more for Ananias and Sapphira than any good Christian financial advisor would do today for a similarly literal-minded convert: it was the voice of fiscal responsibility.

So Ananias set aside ten percent for the future, and bagged the rest. Ninety percent of his life's savings was still pretty generous, and it seemed a perfectly plausible sum for the sold property.

He kissed Sapphira goodbye and walked jauntily to church for his appointment with Saint Peter, whistling a hymn. The apostle met him at the door. Beaming with joy, Ananias handed the apostle a bag of gold and silver coins.

Peter sat at a table and counted out the cash. Ananias pressed his fingers together in excitement, anticipating the apostle's benediction.

Peter finished counting and looked up. He had hoped for a bit more from the sale. "Is this the full amount?" he asked.

This was not Ananias's lucky day, for Peter already knew the actual selling price for that lot in east Jerusalem. Ananias had no clue that Peter knew. The foolish youth swallowed down his fear and said, "It's everything I have, sir" (Acts 5:1-2).

What Ananias actually meant to say was, "Sir, at the moment, it's everything I have on me." His reply was ambiguous – a minor equivocation.

Okay, it was a fib. A little white fib.

Okay, I admit it: what Ananias said to Saint Peter a goddamned lie! He was donating to God only 90% of the actual sales price.

Peter frowned. He was disappointed, and saddened, and even mystified. "Ananias," he said, "can you please tell me why Satan has filled your heart to lie to the holy Ghost, and to keep part of the price of your land?" (Acts 5:3).

Here's what I was thinking: So they'd have something to fall back on, Pete. I mean, c'mon! Lay off! Besides, if it's me you blame, why then are you busting the kid's balls, you self-righteous hicktown fishmongering son of a b----

But no, I must not use that five-letter epithet to describe the first Pope of the universal Christian Church. It would be sexist.

Young Ananias stood there, silent, shaking from head to foot. He actually started to cry.

Peter, having no further questions, nodded his head. Without further ado, the holy Ghost struck Ananias dead, from behind. Godfather-like, Peter quietly gestured for two of his deacons, who were born-again thugs, to take the body out behind the church and to get rid of it.

Ninety minutes passed – just enough time for Peter's accomplices to dig a hole two feet wide and six feet long and three feet deep in the rocky soil out back – when along comes young Sapphira, to look for her husband at church.

No one so much as hinted to Sapphira that there had just been a divine homicide involving Ananias. First, Peter wanted to catch the girl telling the same fib: How wonderful that she and Ananias had sold their property, for God! how generous that they had promised to give all, and – let's see, remind me now, was such-and-such the full selling price?

When Sapphira said, "Yes," Peter raised his voice in fiery indignation. "How is it," he said, "that you two have conspired to tempt the Spirit of the LORD?" [Enter gravediggers.] "Behold! The feet of those who just buried your husband are at the door, and now they shall carry you out, too!" (Acts 5:9).

Peter gave the sign. Thunk! The holy Ghost struck Sapphira dead at his feet, from behind. Peter personally shlepped the woman out back, by the feet, her head clunking down the stone steps; and he dumped her body into the hole with Ananias.

Peter added the cash donation of Ananias and Sapphira to a special till in a clay pot that was labeled "CHARITY" (which struck me as ironic).

Now it was ordinarily the policy of the Jerusalem police, all of whom were Romans, not to investigate the death or disappearance of working-class Jews; but in this case, a prominent relative, Sapphira's uncle, complained to the Roman authorities of his daughter's disappearance. Two centurions came round to speak with Saint Peter at Jerusalem's First Christian Church. "Who did it?" they asked.

"Don't look at me," said Peter. "The holy Ghost killed them." And the officers were cool with that.

Moral: It's not always the initial scam that they can get you for, but the fibs you tell to cover it up. My friend, Martha Stewart – who sold stock on insider information and then lied about it to the FTC – was sentenced to five months under house arrest plus five months confinement in Camp Cupcake. Compared to Ananias and Sapphira, Martha got off easy for her sins: I was surprised when the Pope and the holy Ghost didn't just kill her.

– L.