I’ll confess. I was a huge wrestling nerd in the 80’s and 90’s. My love for wrestling died somewhere around the time WCW did. One of my least favorite wrestlers of all time was Ric Flair. Couldn’t stand the guy. Which means he was a phenomenal showman. He was supposed to be hated. So when ESPN ran a 30 for 30 on Flair I had to check it out.
I had heard of his alcoholism and his battle for life last year. But I didn’t realize how sad Flair’s story really was. The real Ric Flair was much like the guy we watched on television. He claims to have slept with over 10,000 women. He drank almost all day every day for more decades than I’ve been alive. And here he was crying on the screen. An empty and broken man. The death of his son, Reid, to an accidental overdose absolutely broke Flair. He realized he was more of a friend than a father. He barely got those words out through his sobs.
I couldn’t help but see in Flair a bit of the prodigal son in the pig slop. He is at a spot where he realizes the emptiness of the life he gave himself to. He gave everything he had to professional wrestling. He was one of the greatest ever. He lived the life that many men dream of. And it all came up empty.
I thought to myself, “Man, I would love to see Jesus come in and rescue Ric Flair.” And before I could rejoice at the thought I heard the older-brother noisily speak to my heart. Wouldn’t it be so unfair? How scandalous that Flair got to “live the life” and then repents at the end of his and is just as justified and clean before a holy God as I am? He gets to have his cake and eat it too.
This was the same thinking that caused the older brother to miss out on the kingdom. Thankfully, I remembered the gospel. And what the Spirit called out in my heart was the foolish declaration that Flair “lived the life”. That’s a lie. What I had just watched was the story of a broken man and his pathetic grasping to find some bit of satisfaction in the wrestling business that took his life from him. And somehow I foolishly, if only for a moment, called that “living the life”. That’s not a cake I want to eat. Those joys have a bottom to them. And their putrid.
I’ve always loved these words of the Puritan John Flavel:
“All the delights in the sensual life are but as the putrid waters of a corrupt pond where toads lie croaking and spawning, compared to the crystal streams of the most pure and pleasant fountain.”
The problem with the older brother is that his duty isn’t delight, it’s drudgery. So he views all the work he did as putting in his time and earning his reward. You can never be enamored with grace while having such a philosophy. Your heart isn’t actually changed. You still believe the world has all the treasures to offer you. You just don’t have the guts to go try and get them. And so you inwardly get bitter and slowly die inside. You really do want the world but you’re afraid to pursue it. You want rewarded for obedience while being blind to the fact that obedience to such a wonderful Father is the treasure.
I wouldn’t want a life of sin and then a death bed conversion. That isn’t cheating. It’s not finding a loophole. It’s bathing in waters of death and missing out on years of joy in Christ. It’s delayed joy. Why would I want that? Jesus is where it’s at. I’m grateful the Lord rescued me when he did. I’m not bitter that he didn’t wait longer and let me go further down a spiral of God-dethroning and humanity-belittling sin. Such a view is silly.
And so I’d weep with joy if Ric Flair is found by Christ at the bottom of those putrid waters, and there Flair finds true life. Yeah, that’d be cause for the angels in heaven to give a big Wooooo!!!!
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