Betty Bowers Interview

Betty Bowers:

the interview

As you all know, Mrs. Bowers does not grant interviews to the secular media (although she has graciously opened many of her lovely homes to a well placed lens from Vanity Fair, Town and Country, and Architectural Digest). The Reverend Legion of the ChristsLove ministry pleaded with Mrs. Bowers for an interview and, in a moment of Christ-like patience and forbearance after his check had cleared in Geneva, Mrs. Bowers murmured "It shall be so." Naturally, she had assumed that Reverend Legion was a Baptist when agreeing to be in the same room as him. Instead, Reverend Legion is one of those thoroughly discredited Christians who believe that people unlike Mrs. Bowers are going to ascend to Heaven on Judgment Day. It is truly a lovely testament of Mrs. Bowers' seemingly boundless patience that she even acknowledged such a man, much less subjected herself to his intrusive inquiries.

Reverend Legion:
Mrs. Bowers, welcome to our Church! It is so exciting to meet someone who enjoys the relationship that you have with our Lord Jesus!

Betty Bowers:
Yes, I'm sure it is. Thank you, dear. It's Prada.

Reverend Legion:
Pardon?

Betty Bowers:
My dress. I could see you were admiring the fabulously illusive stitching, the precocious mix of textures and the saucy, yet tasteful décolletage. It's Prada.

Reverend Legion:
Uh, it's lovely. But I really don't know much about high fashion.

Betty Bowers:
Well, obviousy, dear. But that hardly sets you apart from most of our brothers and sisters in Christ, now does it? But we must all bring Glory to our Lord in our own particular way. And if He chooses to use my perfect size four frame and regal carriage to delight His followers with the flawless nuance of top Italian designers, then who am I, as His humble servant, to eschew such a specific calling? Indeed, I find that I can seldom say "no" to my Lord. Particularly when he is right there watching.

Reverend Legion:
Seldom?

Betty Bowers:
Well, sometimes He goes a little beyond the bounds of reason, to say nothing of etiquette, in His requests. I mean, we are talking about Someone who traditionally thinks nothing of asking people to kill their children. Not the type of thing that goes down well in the circles I tend to move in, dear. Not that He's a hypocrite -- He's certainly willing to return the favor -- just ask Jesus. But still. Sometimes, He will ask something that causes me to raise a perfectly penciled eyebrow.

Reverend Legion:
You mean you would defy our Lord?

Betty Bowers:
Oh, never. That would be a sin. I just don't act upon it right away. I mean, that recalcitrance is probably the only reason I still have two children. And if I give it enough time, He usually forgets about it and it never comes up again. And I certainly never bring it up.

Reverend Legion:
Are you implying that the Almighty God is forgetful?

Betty Bowers:
Well, I don't know why you have that look of shock on your face, dear. Our Lord is notoriously absent minded. I mean, he created Adam and Eve knowing they would disobey. But once they were there, and busy naming all the animals, He forgot. Why do you think He got so angry when they sinned? They thought He was just feigning surprise -- you know, into the drama of the whole thing, but He had actually totally forgotten. Completely! Then after the Great Flood he promised that He would never destroy the world again. But that totally slipped His mind and He came up with the Apocalypse. You know, He just can't resist an event with fabulous special effects! Well, who can?

Reverend Legion:
Your spirituality is legendary! You signed our "Book of the Forgiven" and stated that you have never sinned, ever! I don't think that there has been anyone like you since the Virgin Mary!

Betty Bowers:
I really wish people wouldn't compare me to that woman. I live in absolute fear that those idolatrous Catholics will one day discover me and cheap plaster statues of me wearing something from two seasons ago will spring up all over that loathsome place Mexico. I think it is very wrong to compare me to Mary, the mother of Jesus.

Reverend Legion:
Well, your modesty is very appropriate.

Betty Bowers:
Modesty? Look, I don't know much about the woman except that she couldn't find a hotel, had to give birth in a stable and Jesus was avoiding her company at that wedding in Cana. Now, if there is one thing Mrs. Bowers can always be counted on for is to sniff out a Four Seasons Hotel and keep the interest of an attractive man at a party -- even when the liquor runs out.

Reverend Legion:
But is it true that you are also without sin?

Betty Bowers:
Well, that is, of course, what everyone says. And, on a few occasions, I'm susceptible to a consensus.

Reverend Legion:
But isn't everyone with sin? So isn't it a sin to be without sin?

Betty Bowers:
Well, the way I look at it is this. If I am without sin and it is not a sin to simply acknowledge this fact, then there is no harm done. If, on the other hand, it is a sin to be without sin, then my being without sin is -- technically -- a sin so I am not without sin and thereby not in violation. So, I win either way. It's lovely!

Reverend Legion:
You know that our churches have had some difference in our theologies. We are in the business of forgiving sin. You on the other hand, are Baptist.

Betty Bowers:
Not just a Baptist, dear. I'm a Southern Baptist.

Reverend Legion:
And what is the difference between being a regular Baptist and a Southern Baptist?

Betty Bowers:
Just Hell and Heaven.

Reverend Legion:
Pardon?

Betty Bowers:
Oh, your look of shock is so terribly droll, dear. You naïve people do amuse me. Look, I realize that to the indiscriminate eye of someone so wholly given over to a false faith, such as yourself, the actual nuances that separate an almost-true faith from the only true faith are elusive. You see, Southern Baptists are of God. And regular Baptists are of the Devil. See? It's all rather simple.

Reverend Legion:
Baptists are of the Devil?

Betty Bowers:
Yes, but this hardly differentiates them from any other religion. I mean, if you are Baptist, Methodist, Scientologist, Satanist, Muslim or whatever, it doesn't matter. As long as you are not Southern Baptist, you are going straight to Hell. So you may as well be doing human sacrifices on your front lawn for all the good it will do you. But it's not like we don't try to save the others. We've been printing three-color brochures like mad to give to Jews and Muslims on their Occult Holidays to give them all one last chance to shed the shackles of their outrageous beliefs and join us. But, entre nous, I'm a little relieved that so few of them took us up on our rather selfless offer to share God's Glory with them. Not many of them, at least the ones I've met, are "our kind of people." I really wouldn't relish spending eternity with some rag-head who has never met a reputable soap or a woman who never shops retail. I mean, what would we talk about?

Reverend Legion:
But do you Southern Baptists believe in forgiveness?

Betty Bowers:
Yes, absolutely. But just because one forgives does not mean that one forgets. I may forgive one of my shiftless domestic help for breaking a lovely piece of French porcelain. But that doesn't mean I'm going to forget about it when I dock her pay at the end of the month. Similarly with God. He may forgive you your trespasses (or, more often than not with His memory, simply let them slip His mind), but that doesn't mean they won't pop into His head come Judgment Day and send you hurtling into the fiery pits of Hell with a speed so fast it will break your neck like a number 2 pencil. I mean, in spite of what all these touchy-feely homosexual-loving liberal so-called Christians would have you believe, God is not some soft-hearted pushover. I mean, He may forgive you for having a child out of wedlock, but according to Deuteronomy your bastard won't ever get into church. And neither will his family. For ten -- count 'em -- ten, generations. Now, that's not Someone who can't hold a grudge. So there are going to be whole busloads of people real surprised come Judgment Day.

Reverend Legion:
Mrs. Bowers, Betty, may I call you Betty?

Betty Bowers:
No. Only my Savior calls me Betty. And that was only after many years and no small reluctance on my part. I think familiarity is tacky and shows a deplorable lack of breeding. Of course, Jesus was born in a stable, but still, He's had long enough to learn better and I can't allow that type of faux-intimacy.

Reverend Legion:
Well, Mrs. Bowers, if you had been there when Jesus helped the Harlot, would you have "cast the first stone"?

Betty Bowers:
It would depend.

Reverend Legion:
On what?

Betty Bowers:
Both practical and theological considerations. For example, while I might find myself sorely tempted to lodge a nice piece of anthracite between the tart's eyes, I might lose my ardor if I'd just had my nails done. But, regardless, I would imagine that I would end up having to hurl one at her.

Reverend Legion:
Why would this be?

Betty Bowers:
Well, Jesus Himself stated that she who is without sin should have the honor of casting the first stone. It is very much like the American tradition of allowing some noted politician or celebrity to throw out the first ball of the baseball season. I mean, if you are going to go to all the trouble of being sinless, Jesus wanted to makes sure that you had some earthly rewards for your efforts. So, if you were looking for sinless people, it would basically boil down to me and Jesus. And since He was trying to be nice to her, it wouldn't have done for Him to turn around and pop her in the head with a rock. So, I guess it would have been left to me.

Reverend Legion:
So you would have killed her?

Betty Bowers:
No. As with all things I am called upon to do by my Lord, I would have hurled that first honorary stone with alacrity and, I dare say, no small modicum of precision. But it would have been more by way of a polite warning shot to the knee. Of course, once the sinless person, me, had cast the first stone it was open season for the rest of the crowd. And they would have, no doubt, killed her in an instant. My only hope is that Jesus would have gotten out of the way in time. I much prefer worshipping a lovely symmetrical cross than a disorganized pile of rubble.

Reverend Legion:
I see.

Betty Bowers:
Oh, dear look at the time. I really must go.

Reverend Legion:
But I have just one more question. It'll only take a minute.

Betty Bowers:
Well, that would be one more minute than I agreed to, dear.

Reverend Legion:
I thought you would stay at least 30 minutes.

Betty Bowers:
Oh, dear. How delicious! I never do half-an-hour for this kind of money. Besides, the Bowers Ministry Bentley is waiting to take me to the Bowers Ministry plane. I'm already late.

Reverend Legion:
Where are you going?

Betty Bowers:
Saudi Arabia. I don't care for Arabs -- naturally -- but they have oodles of money. They may front some Swiss cash for a hostile take-over of TBN. All entre nous, of course, dear. It appears that a deep-seated abhorrence of that tacky Jezebel Jan Crouch is utterly cross-cultural, which is making lining up backing a snap from Geneva to Abu Dhabi. Oh, please be a dear and call my assistant, Miss Anne Thrope. Tell her to go out to the Gulfstream and inspect the food. It's a long flight and last time the pineapple was decidedly Mexican. Dreadful. I almost lost a tooth.

Mrs. Bowers in one of her Betty Bowers Christian Ministries Gulfstream jets

Reverend Legion:	Mrs. Bowers, welcome to our Church! It is so exciting to meet someone who enjoys the relationship that you have with our Lord Jesus!
Betty Bowers:	Yes, I'm sure it is. Thank you, dear. It's Prada.
Reverend Legion:	Pardon?
Betty Bowers:	My dress. I could see you were admiring the fabulously illusive stitching, the precocious mix of textures and the saucy, yet tasteful décolletage. It's Prada.
Reverend Legion:	Uh, it's lovely. But I really don't know much about high fashion.
Betty Bowers:	Well, obviousy, dear. But that hardly sets you apart from most of our brothers and sisters in Christ, now does it? But we must all bring Glory to our Lord in our own particular way. And if He chooses to use my perfect size four frame and regal carriage to delight His followers with the flawless nuance of top Italian designers, then who am I, as His humble servant, to eschew such a specific calling? Indeed, I find that I can seldom say "no" to my Lord. Particularly when he is right there watching.
Reverend Legion:	Seldom?
Betty Bowers:	Well, sometimes He goes a little beyond the bounds of reason, to say nothing of etiquette, in His requests. I mean, we are talking about Someone who traditionally thinks nothing of asking people to kill their children. Not the type of thing that goes down well in the circles I tend to move in, dear. Not that He's a hypocrite -- He's certainly willing to return the favor -- just ask Jesus. But still. Sometimes, He will ask something that causes me to raise a perfectly penciled eyebrow.
Reverend Legion:	You mean you would defy our Lord?
Betty Bowers:	Oh, never. That would be a sin. I just don't act upon it right away. I mean, that recalcitrance is probably the only reason I still have two children. And if I give it enough time, He usually forgets about it and it never comes up again. And I certainly never bring it up.
Reverend Legion:	Are you implying that the Almighty God is forgetful?
Betty Bowers:	Well, I don't know why you have that look of shock on your face, dear. Our Lord is notoriously absent minded. I mean, he created Adam and Eve knowing they would disobey. But once they were there, and busy naming all the animals, He forgot. Why do you think He got so angry when they sinned? They thought He was just feigning surprise -- you know, into the drama of the whole thing, but He had actually totally forgotten. Completely! Then after the Great Flood he promised that He would never destroy the world again. But that totally slipped His mind and He came up with the Apocalypse. You know, He just can't resist an event with fabulous special effects! Well, who can?
Reverend Legion:	Your spirituality is legendary! You signed our "Book of the Forgiven" and stated that you have never sinned, ever! I don't think that there has been anyone like you since the Virgin Mary!
Betty Bowers:	I really wish people wouldn't compare me to that woman. I live in absolute fear that those idolatrous Catholics will one day discover me and cheap plaster statues of me wearing something from two seasons ago will spring up all over that loathsome place Mexico. I think it is very wrong to compare me to Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Reverend Legion:	Well, your modesty is very appropriate.
Betty Bowers:	Modesty? Look, I don't know much about the woman except that she couldn't find a hotel, had to give birth in a stable and Jesus was avoiding her company at that wedding in Cana. Now, if there is one thing Mrs. Bowers can always be counted on for is to sniff out a Four Seasons Hotel and keep the interest of an attractive man at a party -- even when the liquor runs out.
Reverend Legion:	But is it true that you are also without sin?
Betty Bowers:	Well, that is, of course, what everyone says. And, on a few occasions, I'm susceptible to a consensus.
Reverend Legion:	But isn't everyone with sin? So isn't it a sin to be without sin?
Betty Bowers:	Well, the way I look at it is this. If I am without sin and it is not a sin to simply acknowledge this fact, then there is no harm done. If, on the other hand, it is a sin to be without sin, then my being without sin is -- technically -- a sin so I am not without sin and thereby not in violation. So, I win either way. It's lovely!
Reverend Legion:	You know that our churches have had some difference in our theologies. We are in the business of forgiving sin. You on the other hand, are Baptist.
Betty Bowers:	Not just a Baptist, dear. I'm a Southern Baptist.
Reverend Legion:	And what is the difference between being a regular Baptist and a Southern Baptist?
Betty Bowers:	Just Hell and Heaven.
Reverend Legion:	Pardon?
Betty Bowers:	Oh, your look of shock is so terribly droll, dear. You naïve people do amuse me. Look, I realize that to the indiscriminate eye of someone so wholly given over to a false faith, such as yourself, the actual nuances that separate an almost-true faith from the only true faith are elusive. You see, Southern Baptists are of God. And regular Baptists are of the Devil. See? It's all rather simple.
Reverend Legion:	Baptists are of the Devil?
Betty Bowers:	Yes, but this hardly differentiates them from any other religion. I mean, if you are Baptist, Methodist, Scientologist, Satanist, Muslim or whatever, it doesn't matter. As long as you are not Southern Baptist, you are going straight to Hell. So you may as well be doing human sacrifices on your front lawn for all the good it will do you. But it's not like we don't try to save the others. We've been printing three-color brochures like mad to give to Jews and Muslims on their Occult Holidays to give them all one last chance to shed the shackles of their outrageous beliefs and join us. But, entre nous, I'm a little relieved that so few of them took us up on our rather selfless offer to share God's Glory with them. Not many of them, at least the ones I've met, are "our kind of people." I really wouldn't relish spending eternity with some rag-head who has never met a reputable soap or a woman who never shops retail. I mean, what would we talk about?
Reverend Legion:	But do you Southern Baptists believe in forgiveness?
Betty Bowers:	Yes, absolutely. But just because one forgives does not mean that one forgets. I may forgive one of my shiftless domestic help for breaking a lovely piece of French porcelain. But that doesn't mean I'm going to forget about it when I dock her pay at the end of the month. Similarly with God. He may forgive you your trespasses (or, more often than not with His memory, simply let them slip His mind), but that doesn't mean they won't pop into His head come Judgment Day and send you hurtling into the fiery pits of Hell with a speed so fast it will break your neck like a number 2 pencil. I mean, in spite of what all these touchy-feely homosexual-loving liberal so-called Christians would have you believe, God is not some soft-hearted pushover. I mean, He may forgive you for having a child out of wedlock, but according to Deuteronomy your bastard won't ever get into church. And neither will his family. For ten -- count 'em -- ten, generations. Now, that's not Someone who can't hold a grudge. So there are going to be whole busloads of people real surprised come Judgment Day.
Reverend Legion:	Mrs. Bowers, Betty, may I call you Betty?
Betty Bowers:	No. Only my Savior calls me Betty. And that was only after many years and no small reluctance on my part. I think familiarity is tacky and shows a deplorable lack of breeding. Of course, Jesus was born in a stable, but still, He's had long enough to learn better and I can't allow that type of faux-intimacy.
Reverend Legion:	Well, Mrs. Bowers, if you had been there when Jesus helped the Harlot, would you have "cast the first stone"?
Betty Bowers:	It would depend.
Reverend Legion:	On what?
Betty Bowers:	Both practical and theological considerations. For example, while I might find myself sorely tempted to lodge a nice piece of anthracite between the tart's eyes, I might lose my ardor if I'd just had my nails done. But, regardless, I would imagine that I would end up having to hurl one at her.
Reverend Legion:	Why would this be?
Betty Bowers:	Well, Jesus Himself stated that she who is without sin should have the honor of casting the first stone. It is very much like the American tradition of allowing some noted politician or celebrity to throw out the first ball of the baseball season. I mean, if you are going to go to all the trouble of being sinless, Jesus wanted to makes sure that you had some earthly rewards for your efforts. So, if you were looking for sinless people, it would basically boil down to me and Jesus. And since He was trying to be nice to her, it wouldn't have done for Him to turn around and pop her in the head with a rock. So, I guess it would have been left to me.
Reverend Legion:	So you would have killed her?
Betty Bowers:	No. As with all things I am called upon to do by my Lord, I would have hurled that first honorary stone with alacrity and, I dare say, no small modicum of precision. But it would have been more by way of a polite warning shot to the knee. Of course, once the sinless person, me, had cast the first stone it was open season for the rest of the crowd. And they would have, no doubt, killed her in an instant. My only hope is that Jesus would have gotten out of the way in time. I much prefer worshipping a lovely symmetrical cross than a disorganized pile of rubble.
Reverend Legion:	I see.
Betty Bowers:	Oh, dear look at the time. I really must go.
Reverend Legion:	But I have just one more question. It'll only take a minute.
Betty Bowers:	Well, that would be one more minute than I agreed to, dear.
Reverend Legion:	I thought you would stay at least 30 minutes.
Betty Bowers:	Oh, dear. How delicious! I never do half-an-hour for this kind of money. Besides, the Bowers Ministry Bentley is waiting to take me to the Bowers Ministry plane. I'm already late.
Reverend Legion:	Where are you going?
Betty Bowers:	Saudi Arabia. I don't care for Arabs -- naturally -- but they have oodles of money. They may front some Swiss cash for a hostile take-over of TBN. All entre nous, of course, dear. It appears that a deep-seated abhorrence of that tacky Jezebel Jan Crouch is utterly cross-cultural, which is making lining up backing a snap from Geneva to Abu Dhabi. Oh, please be a dear and call my assistant, Miss Anne Thrope. Tell her to go out to the Gulfstream and inspect the food. It's a long flight and last time the pineapple was decidedly Mexican. Dreadful. I almost lost a tooth.
Mrs. Bowers in one of her Betty Bowers Christian Ministries Gulfstream jets