The greedy bank managerMarch 10, 2009 — Deacon Duncan
Just time for a quick post today, so I thought I’d share the story of the greedy bank manager.
Once upon a time, there was a bank manager who managed to lose quite a large sum of the bank’s money, through a series of bad investments. Concerned about the impact of the loss on the local community and on the bank (and, well, on his own career), he concealed the full extent of the losses by means of some rather creative accounting. But his conscience bothered him, and finally, he decided to pray about it.
“O Lord,” he prayed, “You know what this loss means to our small town and our little bank, and you know the harm that could result if this were generally known. Show me a sign, I pray, so that I can know what to do. If You want me to trust in You, and tell the truth, and let Your divine providence protect us, then please let it be foggy in the morning, but if it’s ok to just keep this between You and me, let it be clear and sunny.”
So the next morning he gets up, and the fog is so thick he can’t see to the end of his driveway. He frowns and goes about his business, and that night he prays again. “O Lord, please be patient with me as you were with Gideon, and let me ask again: if You want me to tell the truth, please let the morning be cold and snowy, but if it’s ok to keep this between You and me, let it be clear and sunny.”
The next morning he gets up, and there’s an inch of snow on the ground, with more coming down, despite the lateness of the spring. So he frowns again, shovels out his drive, and goes to work. That night, he prays, “O Lord, please bear with me one more time: if it is Your divine will that I tell the truth, please send me a clear sign by letting it be snowing on my side of the street, but foggy on the other. But if it’s ok to keep this between You and me, let it be clear and sunny.”
The next morning he gets up, and lo and behold! it is snowing on his side of the street, but the other side of the street is completely blanketed by a thick wall of fog. In utter despair, the banker falls to his knees, throws up his hands, and cries, “O Lord, it is not for a mortal such as I to question your limitless wisdom, but seriously, how do You expect me to find out Your divine will if You keep letting Satan screw around with the weather?”