Devoted to the Propagation and Defense of New Testament Christianity
VOLUME 9
October 17, 1957
NUMBER 24, PAGE 10-11b

"Hobby Rider"

Guy McDonald, Beaumont, Texas

I am giving my experience with my "institutional, hobby riding" brethren. There are certain brethren among us who have climbed aboard the "Orphan Home, Cooperation, Sponsoring church programs," hobby horse.

I do not question the ability of these brethren as riders but the things they are riding. They are proving themselves very good at this sort of thing. These brethren have a ticket, usually provided by some group more interested in social life than in religion. This group usually sets the preacher on this "hobby horse" with all expenses paid and the promise of a bonus if he proves he can ride.

If one of these "horse boys" were to try and get off he would be penalized, stigmatized, criticized and persecuted to the nth degree. I am not exaggerating, because I have been in the saddle and ought to know. Yes, I was placed on one of these "nags" and told I could ride as long as I tried to convince others he was a real horse. I had some doubts, but not knowing the Scriptures as I now know them, mounted this "broom tail" with the feeling he was counterfeit, or something. Before I knew exactly what was happening the steam was turned on, and I was off. I made a round or two and decided to try and convince the brethren that the thing I was riding was a fake, instead of telling others he was the real stuff.

If I had jumped off then and there, and told everybody what I thought of this "bronc," things would have been different. But no, I thought as I jogged along if I get off now everybody in the brotherhood will think I am a quitter. I'll just ride a little more and see where he goes, besides I can get off any time, as he was in a little "huckle-berry" trot. The saddle was comfortable, and all were cheering for me, so ONE more turn wouldn't do any harm. Before I got back to where I began, it is hard to believe, but he was in a gallop. It amazed me to see the speed of this dumb brute once he got started.

Now that I was travelling at a high rate of speed and more and more were cheering for me; it seemed a shame to get off, risk breaking my neck and spoil all the fun. I was getting more popular by the minute, but was still considering getting off, when a preacher brother jumped on a "sidewinder" beside me. This brought something else to think about. Since I was in position to talk to him maybe I had better insist that we both get off. I hated to think of leaving him alone without some effort to save him. I explained to him that this type of show was dangerous and if we stayed on others might try it too. Hearing a wild applause from the crowd, I looked just in time to see another brother sail through the air on the back of another "filly" going in the same direction as we. What I didn't know was that these other boys had been reared in a circus and that they were experienced acrobats.

More steam was turned on and faster and faster we went. Those other riders were enjoying the fun and being paid to perform; they jumped from "broom tail" to "broom tail" without any danger of falling. I was hanging on for dear life, but couldn't keep from noticing the other riders kept looking in my direction and shouting that anybody could learn to ride one of these "thoroughbreds." They made me look good in the eyes of the people.

When I glanced again at the crowd, I noticed some of my own family had joined in the fun, and were saying they knew I was good at this type of entertainment, but they didn't know I was that good and if I could ride with such ease why not try it themselves.

Another turn or two and people seemed to be getting smaller. I was getting higher all the time, only I hadn't noticed it until now. After being convinced that I was still going upward I began to investigate the nature of this merry-go-round, and found the contraption was designed to do just that. The longer you rode, the higher you went, and of course the harder the fall.

The time had come to seriously consider my position and after one more look at the machinery beneath me I decided to bail out. The trouble was, there were other "Hobby-Horses" coming up all the time. They were taking in larger circles as they came and it would be a hard matter to get safely down without getting on one of them, or being trampled to death in the effort.

With one more look in every direction I gently removed one foot from the stirrup and would have slid off my horse; but the brethren were keeping an eye on me, and pushed me back into position. I started pleading with them to stop this monster and let's all get off before it was too late. They shouted back at me, "There is no danger, we've been doing it for years and everything is perfectly safe."

On my next round I pleaded with all the crowd to forsake this foolishness, but to no avail. They acted as if they thought I had lost my mind. They shouted in unison, "We are sponsoring this thing, and we don't aim to let it stop." Convinced by now that they had forsaken all reason in order to be noticed by the world, I unloaded.

I took a hard fall, but managed to get out alive. Many of the brethren I had known through the years shied away from me, and shouted, "Traitor." Instead of coming to my rescue, they made remarks that cut still deeper. Some things I heard were; "He doesn't believe in co-operation." "He has turned anti." "He is trying to tear up our program." "He knows the proceeds from this show go to feed hungry children, hence, he is against caring for orphans." Sick at heart in my confused state I turned to go away. It seemed an eternity since I had seen a friend. One can never be so lonely as when surrounded by enemies who were once his best friends.

Outside this group of people, to my surprise, I saw a small group of brethren whom I had also known in the past. They were not taking part in this melee, and seemed to be trying to discourage others coming by to abstain. A few stopped to listen to them, but most of them went right on into the crowd, and joined in the ruckus. The serious minded brethren warned that people should stay off that crazy pile of junk, because there was a time bomb, that would explode at the proper time, underneath. Some were telling of their short ride on this beast, before they were aware of the dangers. Others were telling that they had helped build the thing, but didn't realize the contraption would blow up and destroy a great number of people.

There were only a few of these men at first, but as time went on, others saw the danger and abandoned their horses so they could help break up this wild rodeo. After considering what these brethren were saying and knowing for a certainty they were telling the truth, Ieast my lot with them. In my small way I hope to be able to keep some of my brethren from self destruction.

Although there are many waking up to the dangers of this man made machinery, there are many others who are so busy adding fuel to the flame they can't hear the warning. When you try and point out to them that the whole thing will come down with a crash they will say, "Well, it's working isn't it?" "What better proof do we need; and if you know so much, why don't you show us a better way?" The point is NOT whether it is working or not, but what do we need with the thing? Some of our brethren have become so drunken with this worldly power that it will be impossible to get them to give it up. They will ride their "HOBBIES" to their death.

Yes, I was an "institutional hobby rider" and I thought because everybody else was riding it was safe. I am no longer available for such sport. I have learned my lesson and the farther I can get away from this silly piece of machinery the better I will be pleased.

No more "Hobby-Horses" for me.