If what P.T. Barnum said is correct, I can account for 15 minutes of his statement-that is that a sucker is born every minute. And the following may just prove his point. My boss Jack, the same one who thought he gave me ulcers, was going to have a party at his house for him and his buddies. His wife was going out of town, so they were going to stay up late, drink beer, eat pizza, smoke cigars, and do all the things mature men do when their wives are gone. I can only imagine the others making up stories or begging their wives to stay out late-not realizing their wives were thinking take the whole weekend off and give us a break! Jack was telling how this was to be the event of the year to his other hen pecked friends, when somebody asked, "you're not having any stag movies?" He hadn't thought of it, but what a brilliant idea, a way to make all his friends envious, and him party meister of Durango-at least in his own mind. Now none of his other friends would be so decadent, so he inquired of where to get one. Nobody was sure, this was Durango, after all, or what one to get. And this was a group of rather worldly men he was talking too, I was just another salesman at the meeting. Looking at me, I suggested jokingly, "The Black Stallion. Just call the video rental store and have them put it aside. Then you won't be embarrassed going in and asking for it." And he did it. All I can figure is it was the Jersey Factor, as this stupid suggestion was taken to heart, from a guy who wouldn't listen when I shared the gospel,but ridiculed me. But when it came to stag movies, he would listen. Maybe he figured since I was from NJ I was a reprobate anyway, so to really egg him on, I said it was made in the same city as Deep Throat-and the next weekend couldn't come fast enough. And I had to laugh-at least inside while in front of them-stupidity had hit a new high, or was it low?
So Jack called and reserved my made up movie, which turned out to be real as I had suspected, and all week we got sick of hearing about how they were going to watch this stag classic-xxx at its most decadent. And the legend of the Black Stallion grew with each story-some even claiming to have seen it, and making those who were really henpecked jealous. They had been invited but their wives said no. As the night arrived, they had bought the cigars, put the beer on ice, and ordered pizza, now they just were waiting for Jack to return with the movie so the debauchery could begin.
More pubescent than mature, they watched with anticipation as the movie began, at a farm, their reprobate minds only dreaming of what was next. For awhile it shows a ranch with horses, no women, and one genius states "they all start slow." And as the anticipation builds, they find the rancher and his wife begin to raise this black stallion, while fully clothed, and it begins to dawn on them, this isn't a porno flick. But no one wants to believe it, or to ruin their dream evening, so they continue to watch. Until after about 10 minutes someone yells-"I've seen this movie, my kids have it! This ain't no stag movie-it's about a horse!" And after a minute of wandering what kind of father would show his kids such a film, realize they were put together. Conned. Their lust overcame all their sense of common, and they were duped. Busted. The Black Stallion was about-a black stallion! And their weekend was ruined. And it was Jack's fault!
So he did the thing that was expected of him. Tearing the movie from the machine, he drove to the video store, and cursed, ranted, and raved all over the poor high school kid who had rented it to him. The same kid who had only done what he was told, unaware of the stupidity of the customer he would later have to deal with. And not having a clue as to what was going on. Because, as life teaches you, when pride interrupts your perfect night at the movies-you have to blame someone else. Sorry, kid-you should have seen it coming. And Jack, couldn't even ask if he was given the wrong film, too many people knew him, and the kid was under 18, so he couldn't have gotten it from him anyway-if it had even existed. A perfect con, that fit its audience so well. So he went back empty handed, to his friends with the by now cold pizza, warm beer, and cursed me-silently until he saw me, and they all sat with their dream weekend ruined. Lust had overtaken them, and they had no one to blame but themselves, so they blamed Jack. Who would blame me. Which brings up the question-why would you believe a Christian about a stag movie, but not about God? Which one would he be better suited to tell about? Yes, P.T., your 15 minutes of suckers was accounted for that night-and all in one room, together.
And as Christians, we can be no better at believing what we are told. Mr. Peabody, set the wayback machine for the first century church, about 45AD, and grab Sherman-let's see how somehow we haven't changed in 2000 years.
Peter, the tough fisherman who was brought to tears in the garden by a servant girl, and who later under the power of the Holy Spirit, led 3000 to the Lord on the day of Pentecost, was in jail for preaching the gospel. When word of his incarceration reached the others, they began to pray for his release. After praying for awhile, there is a knock at the door, and they keep knocking. And those in prayer begin to get upset-it's interrupting their prayer! Until someone says, "will somebody please answer the door and send whoever it is away, we're busy praying!" So finally someone answers the door-interrupting their prayer. And he comes back after answering the door, saying its Peter, and they get upset. Because he is interrupting their prayer for him to escape from prison, and he's where? And they couldn't and wouldn't believe it, until one of the stronger in faith said "let him in." And they did. And it was Peter. And I marvel sometimes, at those of us who can believe in Jesus, but can't or won't accept His answer to our prayers sometimes. Here they got what they asked for, but it interrupted their asking! What were they expecting? Can I get an amen, or is pride overcoming you? Or should I note you on Mr. Barnum's sucker list? Why is it easier to believe a lie rather than the truth? God tells us it is a mustard seed sized faith, but sometimes the lie takes even less.
And I think I know why. We don't trust, we try to understand. Jack and his friends could understand a porno flick, something they could see-but the gospel, how do I touch it, or hold it, or talk about it? Aren't you glad that the same Holy Spirit that released Peter goes before you, giving you the right words. It ain't about you, so don't make it about you. Jesus saves, so let Him!
I can't tell you what this did for my credibility, but I know what it did for Jack's. The Black Stallion was a children's movie-and maybe had the right audience that night-immature adults. But the gospel is for everyone, any night-even when your wife is home. So share it by living it. Remember, Adam didn't need to be talked into sinning with Eve, it just took the right moment. Use your moments wisely, loving instead of hating. And if you are invited to a friends house to watch a movie-and it's the Black Stallion-grin and smile, then ask can I bring my kids? First time your fault, second time mine.
See you at the movies-front row, center. There may be a sucker born every minute, but wouldn't you rather be part of a fellowship where suckers are born again-every minute? You bring the pizza, and I'll see you there. I wonder if Jack and his friends ever realized that the Bible if put on film would be rated X? Nah, that could never be true. Hollywood-are you listening? I have a great idea-it has harlots-Rahab, homosexuality-Sodom and Gomorrah, and war and adultery-King David. And a happy ending-where those saved live happily ever after-I even have a name for it-The Bible. It may be no Black Stallion, but then again...
love with compassion, on the aisle,
Mike
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