Marcus Redding Taps Out

12:30. Lunch break was over. Back to work. The rest of the day went like normal until they were about to go home. Ron jumped off the forklift and plugged it in to the charger. He caught Marcus at the door. “Hey man, why don’t you come over to me and my brother’s house tonight. We’re having some guys over to watch UFC 101. Pizza’s on me.”

Now Marcus had a problem. He had been trying to set a good example for Ron, praying for his mom, inviting him to the Rangers game. Ron appreciated his kindness and Marcus knew this was his way of saying thanks. He wanted to go, if for no other reason than to keep building a friendship with him. And Lauren was working late tonight...

But he knew they would wash down that pizza with something. And it wouldn’t be Kool-Aid. And UFC? He’d watched highlights of mixed martial arts on SportsCenter with Lauren. Whenever it would come on she would say something like, “I can’t figure out why Christians watch this. Remember Philippians 4:8? I’d rather watch cricket than outright violence marketed as a legitimate sport.”

All these thoughts flashed through Marcus’s mind in about three seconds. Then he heard himself tell Ron, “I’ll be there.” Ron smiled, “All right. 7:00. You know where I live?” Marcus nodded. But his conscience had already gone to work on him.

For the next few hours as he washed up, played his guitar a little, and watched the news on TV, it was a battle of two voices. One said, “This is a chance to build a relationship with Ron and his brother. It’ll be fun. Harmless.” The other said, “Ron and his brother don’t drink Kool-Aid and UFC doesn’t stand for Ultra Friendly Croquet. What are you thinking?” But the first voice was stronger and he found himself knocking on Ron’s door at 7:00.

“Hey man, thanks for coming. Pizza’s on the way. Come and watch the undercard fights. Look at this guy.” Marcus sat down at the kitchen table and watched the big screen. Two fighters in the octagon. One had the other pinned to the ground, knee on his chest, and he was pounding away punch after punch. Then he let the guy up, it was obvious his nose was broken. Blood all over his face. The stronger guy spun around behind him and put him in a chokehold. The bloody fighter weakly tapped his opponent’s arm, the ref broke in, the winner jumped up and pounded his chest, the loser crumpled to the mat as the doctor flew in to help him. And Marcus heard Lauren’s voice, “Philippians 4:8.”

He tried not to pay attention to the fights and just talk to Ron and his brother and his friends. But every few minutes someone was opening another Coors Light. The smell of beer brought back memories. Right before the main event Ron’s brother sat down next to him, “Thanks for coming man. Ron says you are a good guy. He’s glad he works with you. Want a beer?” “Umm..no...thanks...how’s your mom doing?” But Ron’s brother didn’t hear him, he was watching the fight.

The other voice was starting to win. He knew he’d have a rough time at work. But he had to do it. He found a note pad. Scribbled a note. Came up behind Ron, who was sitting on the couch. Discreetly passed him the note. Tapped him two times on the shoulder and said, “I’m tapping out. See you Monday.”

More about Marcus Redding’s journey of faith next week.