Sam’s Barbershop
Chewing Gum and Taxidermy
Judges 16:15-21

I don’t like women cutting my hair, especially the bleached blonde air heads who smoke and laugh with raspy suggestion. I’m a guy, and guys don’t go to the barber shop to have someone talk to us through a mirror.

My barber has stuffed game and NASCAR collectibles on the wall to compliment the small box always playing ESPN, ESPN2, or ESPN Classic. Larry’s Mug & Brush has newspapers—not fashion magazines—half-sorted into the sports pile, the front page pile, and the unread pile.

“How d’ya want it today, short as usual?”

It’s a rhetorical question. He’s required to ask. “Yep, I’ve got the in-laws in town this weekend.”

At my wife’s beautician, it’s almost rhetorical, except that it’s a given the answer will never be the same consecutively twice. That’s why beauticians don’t have to remember what you had last time in the chair or how long they’ve been on the same stick of gum. “I just want something different. I’m tired of this [2 month-] old look.”

Delilah didn’t smoke or chew gum, but Samson should have gone somewhere with a barber pole. From the sounds of it, though, he was the one with a short memory—forgetting his supernatural birth, his ordained life, and the source of his strength.

Sure, he remembered where he had originally acquired the ability to rip city gates off their hinges. Over time, though, he came to see himself as invincible—a superhero with an Achilles haircut, the unmanaged experiment of a Deistic Creator. “I still got it—might as well use it.”

While he thought he was playing with the Philistines, Satan was playing with him. Samson had to be the prize of hell’s toy box with his sensational antics. He was the Riddler and the Incredible Hulk, Clark Kent and Superman. Foxes on fire, foxy sirens—I’m surprised cable hasn’t made a TV series on the guy.

Maybe the focus groups had a tough time relating to the time era. Christians do. While we’ve never had bionic strength or an angel-announced birth, God has given us incredible abilities that we take for granted. How ‘bout prayer: the chance to petition the controller of the universe?  Think everybody gets to go to heaven or that your neighbor has God indwelling his meager frame?  You have all the angels of heaven with you—the power to resist temptation. Forget the TV show—you’ve got comic book material!

If you’re like me after a gate-tearing day, you thank God for the ability and tell others, “God enabled me to yank the planks of my enemies.”  A week later it sounds like, “Man, I ripped those doors off—with God’s help, of course.”  A month later it’s, “Yeah, that was me. You heard about that?”  Not long after that, it’s a new haircut that I can’t see while I walk in spiritual circles.

To avoid this we must honor the One who numbers our head hairs and never let a woman carry the Kryptonite.

Word has it . . .
“When pride comes, then comes dishonor, But with the humble is wisdom.” Proverbs 11:2.

Have you spent your spiritual freedom in Philistia?

What Delilahs does Satan use to get to you?

Would you know when God wasn’t with you (spiritually—not physically)?

What strength or talent are you taking too much credit for?

© 2003: nonymous, ink.
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Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture texts are from the New American Standard Bible, © The Lockman Foundation 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977.