Sam Marte was an angry man. A drug dealer. Violent, powerful, and intimidating, Sam was the kind of guy who would not hesitate taking anything he wanted from anybody—and making them pay if they held out.
With a troubled childhood, he decided at the normally tender age of eight that there was no God.
He had a lot of reasons to be full of hate toward a God he claimed didn’t even exist. How could there possibly be a loving God when so many bad things happened all around him? And now as a grown man, he was about to teach his young daughter that God is nothing more than a “silly fairy tale.”
What Sam did not know was that a miracle was waiting for him in a movie theater.
I used to call myself an atheist because it was politically correct. If you say you’re a “God-hater;” then “Whoa. I'm out of here. I don't want lightning to strike me.’’An atheist is, basically, a Godhater; ’cause they’re against God. But “atheist’’ sounds decent. I can
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be around people and say “atheist” instead of “God-hater" And they'll either respect me or not respect me, but they’ll listen to me more. Realistically, I guess I did believe in God because I blamed Him for most things.
Surprising words from a man who was raised in a Pentecostal church where his father was the minister. Attending church was a part of everyday life in Sam’s family. Going to church sometimes four or five days a week and having his parents wrapped up in their ministry, Sam grew up knowing a lot about the Bible and all these “God” things.
But there’s a big difference between knowing about God and actually knowing God.
Something big was missing for Sam. His parents were consumed with their work at the church and weren’t as present with him as he needed as a young boy. He grew to resent the church, which was competing for his parents’ affections. And by association, he grew to resent God.
The life he lived in the inner city of New York was rough. He didn’t have the special places most American kids have where he could run and play, enjoy fresh air, and revel in God’s creation. Young Sam Marte’s world was dark, smelly, and filled with immorality—not a healthy place for a small boy to explore and try to discover what life is all about.
With each passing year, that claustrophobic environment made him more and more angry. Life didn’t make sense to him. Then came a turning point that would direct him down an even darker, lonelier path that few return from.
I guess it started when I decided that I was no longer going to believe in God. I felt this way, maybe, when I was eight years old. Where I lived, my environment and what the Bible said didn’t balance out.
I was brought up in the inner city Not a nice neighborhood. No trees, no grass. I'd see pimps; I’d see prostitutes, drug dealers with nice cars, you know. So, I would guess there wasn’t really a God. I’d see all these things happening and that He allowed it to happen. I decided there was no God.
I was going to the store, but I was supposed to go to church that night. I got hit by a car That's where it all started, when I thought that God wasn't with me. I’m like, you know, there's not a God.
The downhill descent had begun.
By age 15, Sam was done doing his masquerade and going to church. He decided to draw a line in the sand. One Sunday morning, he went toe-to-toe with his father. What happened next almost landed Sam on the streets.
My father; as usual, got up and said to me,“Time to get dressed and praise the Lord.’’ It was the last time I wanted to hear those words, so that Sunday I confronted him. Now, he’s old-school. It's not like today like we’re talking now. “Okay son. Let's talk about this.”Then, it was “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re going to church whether you like it or not. You live in my house and you’ll do as I say. You’re going to church.”
“I am not going to church.”To say that, it’s a big thing. I had never spoken to my father like that, ever I told him, “If you force me to go to church, I will embarrass you.” With him being the minister how’s he going to lead the people then? The Bible says you have to have your home in order So, I used that. I used Scriptures to shake him up.
He thought about it and then told me I would be going to church or I could leave the house. I said, “Fine.This is your home. You throw me out, and I'll let the whole world see your leadership."
At 15 I was going to do as I pleased. I was not going to church because it's a way of keeping people, weak people, believing in something. Controlling them. That's what I thought. I was not going to be controlled by people saying I was going to hell. I refused to be a part of that group.
Sam had made his choice: God was out. Officially. And it didn’t take long before his choice began radically affecting the way his life looked. He started making a name for himself on the streets; Sam was no longer that “church boy” others could mess with. He had a new family—one that helped him deal drugs, pick fights, beat up people, and rob stores. With his new associates, Sam got wanted he wanted: the reputation of someone you had better fear.
By the time I left the church, I felt that since God wasn’t helping me, I was going to help myself. My idea was to leave church and become a big, tough guy. My friends were murderers, drug dealers, very tough guys. I was associated with them, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that because they were my family at the time. They were the ones who were supporting me in my decision not to go to church, not to believe in God.
We were looking for a quick buck, and the only way to get a quick buck in my environment was to sell drugs, steal, or murder for money.Those were the options.
“Where's God now?" I would ask when someone got hurt.You know, to me it was confirmation. There wasn't a God. I used to have a 40-ounce Old English before going to school instead of a
glass of orange juice, and I thought that would bring about my toughness.
See, when I was in church, I was getting picked on, getting beat up.They knew I was a church boy and it was easy to pick on me. They knew I wouldn't retaliate because it’s not what I’m suppose to do. I used to go home and tell my parents about getting beat up.They’d tell me to look at what happened to Jesus. He was crucified but turned the other cheek. So, I got beat up for quite some time.
Until I hit the streets.Then people started fearing me because I had no fear in God. What I did to them and how it was demonstrated in my character was “Before you mess with me, you’d better know I’m not on God’s side. I’m on the other side now. You will get hurt.’’
And people did get hurt.
If there were students in his school Sam didn’t like, he’d threaten them and never see them back at that school again. To show his contempt for anything related to God, Sam would roll joints of pot with pages from a Bible and literally throw the Bible across the room in disrespect.
One of Sam’s buddies called Sam a hypocrite for carrying money in his pocket because it said “In God We Trust” on it. So Sam stopped carrying money on him—he would only carry credit cards!
Sam Marte was one messed up guy. What few “friends” he had were dope dealers and murderers—violent, hate-filled men like himself. Life didn’t look as though it were going to last too long for a street thug like Sam.
He told himself he was fine with this. But he didn’t have much to live for. Depression and suicide were his constant companions.
After I lost my faith, I had no one to turn to.Two of my friends had already committed suicide at the time. One of them had told us what he was going to do, but no one took him seriously. I was going through major depression at that time; I went to three different funerals in a week. I said, "You know, I’m ready to get out of here."
But inside I was saying, "This is another thing God’s not going to control. I'll make my own destiny, and if I go to hell I'm going to curse God from hell."
My grandmother was the reason I didn't [kill myself]. She was a woman of God; she was a part of my life. I didn’t want her to suffer She meant more to me than anything.
One day she caught me smoking pot on a corner in her neighborhood with five or six friends. She had come over to tell us that that smoking pot was something that we shouldn’t be doing. She didn't realize that it was me standing there...her own grandson with a joint in his hand. The other guys laughed; they see a big tough guy’s grandma coming and they want to see how he's going to respond to that.
She just said,"You need to come with me." On the walk home, my grandmother wasn't judgmental. She said that what I was doing wasn’t good for me, that I was going to destroy my life if I kept on.
She didn’t bring God into it; she didn’t say anything about Him because she knew I wouldn’t listen if she did. She had seen who I was associating with and the potential they had as professional criminals and thugs, drug dealers and murderers.
As Sam grew older, he fell into a very tumultuous relationship with a woman, whom he married and would have two
daughters with. This was a big deal, so he decided it was maybe time to make a few changes. External ones.
I knew that living the lifestyle I had been living was either going to put me in prison or get me killed. So I started working at a Fortune 500 company and turned my life around. I wanted to prove to my family that I could be a decent person and not believe in God.
I wanted to get married. I wanted a family. I wanted the American dream.
As his marriage got rough, Sam’s contempt for God became stronger. He called himself an atheist, but he looked like a man playing chess with God—always trying to force Him into checkmate. When his daughter, Samantha, was about to be born, he was frighteningly and selfishly—and even bizarrely— adamant about keeping God far away.
When I had my firstborn, my wife’s father a minister wanted to pray that she’d be born healthy. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. I believed that prayer was begging God, and I was not going to do that. People around me would say, “What if your baby is born retarded or blind?" I had an answer to that too. I said, “I'm going to leave it in the hospital."
That was my answer God was not going to win. It was me against Him, and I'd show Him.
The depression and thoughts of suicide from his younger years had never left Sam. Zoloft and eight drinks a day of hard alcohol were his coping mechanisms. He was a father, but with
no real purpose to life and so much hatred in his heart—selfhatred—he had little reason for living.
He never actually tried suicide, but he intentionally lived very dangerously, hoping some tough guy would kill him, and his girls could get life insurance money. He’d pick fights with guys much tougher and meaner, hoping to get knifed or shot. It never happened. He once humiliated and threatened a Mafioso right in front of his associates—on purpose—sure that they’d do him in. They thought he was nuts and let him go.
If it wasn’t so sad, it’d be a great scene from a movie. And there was more.
I was on the train with my two daughters, and there was this thug who was bothering people, a real intimidating person. He was picking on some young lady. I said to myself, I'm going to show him the right thing. And then again, maybe this guy has a gun. He could shoot me.
At least my kids would witness their father trying to help. So,
I pulled him down and kicked him off the train.The guy just fell; I guess he felt intimidated because he's probably been doing this for years. The lady thanked me, but I was so [ticked] off. I was like, That wasn’t my goal. I was trying to help, but that wasn't really my goal. I thought this guy was so tough that maybe he'd pull out a knife or gun and say, “Mind your own business." It happens all the time. My daughters would witness my death, collect insurance, and label me as a great man. A person who doesn't believe in God.
It wasn’t obvious to Sam, but God believed in him.
Sam’s miracle was about to begin.
It was Ash Wednesday when The Passion of the Christ hit theaters in New York. Sam caught news reports covering the event and scoffed at the scenes of moviegoers coming out of the theater with stunned faces and tears, saying how impacting the film was. Then, drinking with friends at a bar, one of them said, “Let’s go see The Passion .”
When The Passion of the Christ first came out, I turned on the news and saw people coming out of the movie, crying and saying it’s a powerful movie. It's this and that. I’m like,"These people are so weak.You know, come on.These are actors.”
To my friend I said,"All right.”We went and I couldn't say "give me two tickets for The Passion of the Christ" I couldn’t come out and say that because I felt that maybe there's some sort of belief in me. So I cursed. I said,"Let me get two tickets forthe blank, blank...."—I actually cursed Jesus instead of saying, "Let me get two tickets for The Passion of the Christ."
That was my goal, to offend. Everybody in line looked at me. This... I don’t know.. .atheist is coming to see the movie, huh? I was like,"You guys need to wake up.There's no Jesus, okay. It’s a story.. .like Shakespeare.” It was a fictional character I thought it was a fiction characterThis is not real.
I didn’t go see the movie because I wanted my life to change.
I went to see the movie to criticize it.. .to have another conversation piece with my friends and tell them how much I enjoyed the beatings because they weren’t real to me. Jesus got stoned, got spit on, and I’m grinning. I’m looking around at the theater and everyone's crying. I’m like, "Wow, these people are so weak. This was a fairy tale. People, you need to wake up. This is a bunch of actors getting together you know, and making a movie.”
Just before Sam went into the movie, his cell phone rang. It was his nine-year-old daughter, Samantha, calling with a surprising request for her daddy. She wanted Sam to take her to see The Passion of the Christ.
Coincidence?
I wanted to see the movie with my dad because he always takes me places. He’s a good dad, and I just wanted to see it with him.
Standing there in the theater; I told Samantha that I had heard that the film was a little violent and rated R. I said, “I’m in the theater now, actually, and I’m going to screen the movie. If I think it’s appropriate for you to watch it, I'll take you this weekend.’’
Now, I never break a promise with my daughter so she was very happy.
After the movie let out, it wasn’t long before Sam heard his cell phone ring again; it was Samantha asking what he thought about the movie. Agreeing to take her to see The Passion on Sunday, Sam made the decision that the time had come for Samantha to know about where he stood when it came to God.
My daughter wasn't aware that I was a radical atheist. I thought she was mature enough to know my views at that point. I was going to explain to my daughter that it’s fiction and she’s going to believe me that it's a fairy tale.
Sunday arrived and Sam kept his word to Samantha. He expected to feel nothing different from the first time he had seen the film just four days before. However, from the minute father and daughter walked into the theater, something was going on.
Sam had no idea, but God was very present with him and Samantha right there in the lobby.
I asked Samantha if she would like some popcorn. She didn’t want any. She enjoys popcorn and soda, but for some reason she was very into the movie. She just said,“No, Dad. Just sit here.’’
It wasn't really a popcorn movie. I knew it was a serious movie. Everybody was talking about it, and almost the whole world was seeing it.
As the movie was about to start, Sam kept rehearsing in his mind what he would say to his daughter after the film was over.
That's the mentality I went in with the second time. I was going to explain to my daughter that this is fiction and she's going to believe me.
God knew Sam’s motives too.
God cared for little Samantha—and He cared for Sam. All those years when Sam could have been killed by thugs or Mafioso or bad drugs...God loved him then and was watching over him.. .protecting him.. .for this moment.
The miracle.
I sat down and something came over me. I was looking at everything as if.. .as if i were there. I felt every word, every movement of the movie. It was incredible. In the back of my head I was like, oh, wait a minute.This is a movie, and I kept saying to myself, Sam, this is a movie. Wait, what’s happening. I'm feeling—I'm getting some emotional feelings.
And I kept repeating to myself, Nothing but a movie.They’re actors. This is a story. I've been doing good without God; I’m healthy, have a job, my daughters are healthy.
Sam’s chess game continued...
I’m fighting with these thoughts back and forth. What if I'm wrong? What if I’m going to lead my daughter to the wrong path?
The movie ended and the two left the theater. Sam was very conflicted, unsettled, and confused. Very unlike his usual exterior.
When I left the theater; I was still a nonbeliever I was like, it’s a movie, yeah...and I’m not going to feel this way. But I was still having these feelings. I said to myself Let me get my thoughts together before I discuss my views and my beliefs with her because once I do, it's going to be forever. So I told Samantha, “Honey, you're going to have to go home.”
The God-Hater
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I was touched by the movie, but it had been so many years.. .You just don’t turn around and be like—Okay, I’ve seen the movie and I believe in God. It's not that easy.. .not the way it works.
Or is it?
Even after taking Samantha home and buying a bottle of liquor, the feelings and thoughts Sam was having just wouldn’t go away.
Sam
I still felt something in me that kept saying, “You know you’re wrong. Be man enough to admit you're wrong.’’
Then my daughter called wanting to talk about the movie. I said, “We'll discuss it when I see you next time.’’
I was drinking my bottle of Hennessy, getting alcohol in the system. I was trying to do that purposely so that the thoughts would leave. And they did. I was drinking and playing my loud music and everything's cool. Sam, you’re back. Yeah, I'm back. Went to sleep, got up that morning, and I couldn't fight the feeling. Part of my being was humbled. “I'm wrong," I said. "I don't know what’s going on.’’ I didn’t know who to talk to. I couldn't call my parents to have them say, "It’s God. It's Jesus and He's touched you."
I didn’t want to hear that, you know. So I turned on my computer and typed in “Jesus Christ.’’
On his computer Sam found a website where there was a small prayer and a paragraph for those who wanted to accept Jesus Christ as their personal Savior. Sam got on his knees and
The miracle found its target.
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