Cancer still kills. On
the 29th of May, my wife took our dog Oscar to the vet to see what
could be done to help a pain he had developed in his leg. Oscar never came home again. It was not just some ordinary ache or pain,
or even a case of treatable arthritis.
Instead it was the same aggressive cancer that killed his sister Layla only
a few months ago. It seems Oscar had it
as well, for perhaps even a longer period of time, he simply had a higher
tolerance for pain, so we never knew. We
were not prepared for this loss. As is
often the case, death comes and interrupts, what you were thinking. And we did not lose Oscar without prayer, I
had been praying for him since his sister got sick, never knowing just how much
he needed that prayer, and was being sustained by it. But cancer still kills. And I have lost more than just a family pet,
I have lost a nurse dog who stood beside me, and leaned against me anytime I
was too shaky to attempt standing. He
would steady me as I moved. One of the
side effects of my medication is a shaky short-term memory, so when I would
forget to take my medicine, Oscar would come and remind me. He only did that when I needed it. Otherwise he was content to sit on my feet
while I work, even closer when it rained.
My dogs were very obedient, even learning to go to the bathroom on
command. They were full of love, and
were fierce protectors of my family. I
cannot imagine life without them, and so will be looking to reclaim them once
again in a Kingdom yet to come.
For now, while my life yet goes on, I will begin my search
for another Akita breeder and hope I can do as well despite my doubt that will
ever be possible. These two have set the
bar quite high. It is somewhat ironic
that my wife spends her career helping those with cancer. It is her passion, even if there is no way to
translate it to the animals in our circle.
Very often she brings home the need of a given patient and their family
for prayer, as science has only been able to go so far. And cancer still kills. So we pray for them. I seldom know their names, as HIPPA must be
maintained. But she knows them, and God
knows them. What I know, is that “horse
lady” is in full remission. But a “young
man” recently died, an atheist his whole life, until a series of encounters
with a few Christians including “horse lady” as they both got treatment. There will be a star in her crown, even if
she does not know it. The “young man”
came to know Jesus before the end took him.
“Frank” who chose to tell me his name, believes in God so strongly that
he prefers to live on prayer, even more than treatment. Much to the frustration of his Hindu cancer
doctor. But Frank still lives.
And it occurs to me, not all my prayers are answered. As not all the prayers of those in that
cancer treatment center are answered as they asked them. And I wonder, do the families of those who
have suffered loss, take great joy in those who still remain? Or does our own loss so cast shade in our
hearts, that the blessings of others are not cause for celebration, but only of
mystery. Why them, why not all? Can we truly find joy in the good fortune of
others, or is our joy constricted only to the good fortune poured out upon us? For me, it brings me extreme comfort to know
the blessing of remission for the “horse lady” my wife is so fond of. And amazement with even greater joy, to know
that Frank lives what he believes even against the advice of medical science. That could not have been an easy decision for
him or his family. It could still go
south, but then, it already could have gone south. So each day that Frank lives, is a testimony
to the love of God for a man I have never met.
And Frank’s life will lift up my faith, no matter the outcome, it
already has. It continues to, and I will
continue to pray for him, because he needs it, as do I.
I wonder then, if it is different for you, if you are young
enough, or blessed enough, not to have suffered many losses so far. In those instances, I wonder if the good
fortune of others, is something you take great joy in or not? I fear sometimes we are so busy, that what
joy our neighbor experiences never even touches our doorstep. We post a like on Facebook, and continue to
scroll. In real life, our neighbor is
not someone we socialize with, and so hear their happy and sad stories only on
rare occasions. But you would think the
church might be the one place where the joy and the sadness come together for
the sharing with the rest of the body of Christ. I don’t think it is. We have very structured worship
services. We ask for participation in
the joy, and offer no venue for the sadness.
We do hold the funerals from time to time, so the ultimate loss might be
shared. But prior to that it is made of
prayer requests, and brief 30 second explanations of what might be profound
struggles we deal with. My wife is
terrified that without Oscar I am going to wind up falling through our glass
tables, or will continually forget my medicine being distracted by work at
home. Those are real fears for her. But the church as it sits, is not the place
for her to share them. It would take a
weaving of personal conversations there with people who take a personal
interest, otherwise she might come and go, and no one be the wiser.
That is how the modern church is today. We ask for believers to come and share their
joy. To participate in worship
music. To try to get a sense of the
positive from having gone to church. We
mask the sadness, and ignore it. And then
we wonder why people lose interest in coming.
Does church offer a place to meet the need? What if your problem is ongoing? What if you are struck down by inabilities
that shape the very fortunes of your life?
Luke in chapter thirteen of his gospel letter to this friend Theophilus
about what we believe and why tells of a woman who suffered for 18 long years
without the ability to fully extend her body.
She was perpetually hunched over, severely. Yet she still struggled to go to synagogue
every week. She sought God. Even if the church, governed by the iron hand
of men, was not a friendly venue for a woman to find God. Even if her fortunes were judged as
punishment for her vast sins, by an angry God.
She was at best a cautionary tale.
A horror story parents told their children would happen to them, if they
did not obey. But that was not
true. And Jesus had something to say
about the image of an angry God, and the insensitivities of men who thought
they ruled the church which He founded.
Luke picks up in verse 10 saying … “And he was teaching in one of the
synagogues on the sabbath.” You
will note, the failure of the church both then and now, does not prevent our
Lord from going to meet us at church on His Holy Day. This is yet another of the many texts that
show Jesus attending church on the Seventh Day Sabbath He ordained for such
joyous occasions. Not only attending,
but teaching, the true image of His Father and our Father God. Imagine what it must have been like to hear
the Truth of God right in front of your eyes and ears. Way better than any worship music. Way better than offering calls, and
children’s stories, and a regimen that does not have the time for an
individual. When Jesus spoke, He spoke
right to your heart. He cut through the
noise of life’s distractions and reminded you what Love was. He reminded you why you were not only worth
saving to God, but that God had made it His number one mission to save you,
despite anything you encountered in life.
Your fortunes are not governed by disease, or bad luck, or
natural consequence. They are a
tapestry, woven together, to save you as well as everyone you encounter. My wife told me how much her “young man”
hated God when he entered that cancer treatment area of the hospital. He encountered other patients, some of them
Christian who died before he did. But
what they said lived on in his ears, and their lives became a celebration in
his own heart. They did not pass without
meaning, but instead their passing offered him a greater perspective on the
next life possible with a loving God. It
was only then that his encounters with the “horse lady” would seal the
deal. And now his own life remains a
testimony to the all the medical staff who knew him, touching their hearts and
lives, and standing as a firm candle to the light of God. I wish our churches had time for sharing like
this with each other, beyond the greetings of hello and goodbye, but real time
to listen, and comfort, and pray. That
kind of real sharing might do more than rekindle interest in going to church on
Sabbath, it might change the body entirely for the better.
Luke continues in verse 11 saying … “And, behold, there was a
woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together,
and could in no wise lift up herself. [verse 12] And when Jesus saw her, he
called her to him, and said unto her, Woman,
thou art loosed from thine infirmity. [verse 13] And he laid his hands on
her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God.” Hold the phone. Stop the sermon. Interrupt everything. Through the crowds that gather, in the very
back of the synagogue in the places set aside for the women, (so that they do
not disturb the men, because it is only the men who matter), is a woman unable
to straighten herself up. You do not see
her head bobbing up and down with all the others. Instead you catch a glimpse of it at waist or
knee level of the others, intently listening, but unable to move well. And she had been like this for 18 years. But this was not a genetic disease. It was an actual demon inhabiting her and
causing her great misery. This demon
thought if her misery was high enough and struggle hard enough she would not
even try to go to church. But she
did. And this week she was hearing about
the Love of God in words so clear, they cut her like a knife.
But then the unexpected happened. Jesus stopped everything, and called to her. Just His voice, gave her strength she had
never known. She obeyed without question
and went to Him. And He told her,
“Woman, that art loosed”. With that, the
demon was sent spiraling out of this church and far far away. The woman remained, but the years of damage
to her body had now taken their toll. So
Jesus reaches out and puts His hands upon her.
He helps her up, and His creative energy flows through her, correcting
bone, muscle, and joint. She is restored
to what she was intended to be. This is
the testimony of salvation for us all.
First to rid us of the devil in us.
To take the burden of sins from us and loose those chains that bind us. Then to restore what has been made deformed
over so many years. To restore us to
what He intends for us to be. That is
the very nature of salvation. And when
you finally allow yourself to experience it, through the submission of your
will to Jesus, you will explode, like this woman exploded, no longer silent,
but glorifying God for all to hear. Her
joy could not be contained. It could not
be pushed back into the rear of the building and muffled so as not to disturb
the men. It was right there in center
court, loud for all to hear, and God was lifted up in praise that could not be
denied, for she had been saved in spirit, heart, and body.
All of this in the middle of church, in the middle of church
service. Jesus made time for this
woman’s grief and sadness. He stopped
teaching to demonstrate healing. The
needs of the one sheep, the least sheep in the flock, became more important to
him, than the other 99. Jesus wants the
full 100 to be restored. But alas, the
elders who value tradition, reverence, and rules, did not share in the good
fortunes of this woman. They did not
join her praise to God, but rather became angry at all this flaunting of so
many years of established tradition and male dominance. Luke continues in verse 14 saying … “And the ruler
of the synagogue answered with indignation, because that Jesus had healed on
the sabbath day, and said unto the people, There are six days in which men
ought to work: in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the sabbath
day.” How many times have I heard
that. How many times has true “ministry”
been criticized because it dared to be seen on Sabbath in His church. True “ministry” looks too much like real
work. Why not wait till the other six
days of the week to conduct it. Why
attempt it when Jesus is there in the building.
And today we make “work” our excuse not to minister, so that we can
hurry up and leave to go to the nearest restaurant where we have no problem
being served by those who would benefit from time away with our God. But this leader of the synagogue not only did
not share in the good fortune of this woman, he actively condemned it, and
condemned Jesus for creating it.
Jesus responds in verse 15 saying … “The Lord then answered him,
and said, Thou hypocrite, doth not each one of
you on the sabbath loose his ox or his ass from the stall, and lead him away to
watering? [verse 16] And ought not this woman,
being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years,
be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day? [verse 17] And when he had
said these things, all his adversaries were ashamed: and all the people rejoiced
for all the glorious things that were done by him.” Jesus knows it is “work” to feed the
livestock, but he also knows it is work that cannot skip a day. It is ministering work that reflects a love
for our animals. I never actually
thought it was work to take care of my dogs.
Oscar was so close in my heart, he was like another child, with special
needs and rewards that only he could offer.
His hunger was never something to be categorized as work to me, it was
only hunger, and needed to be addressed. And his love for me was never in question. People sometimes have a hard time loving
others like that, myself included. But
Jesus was making a greater point.
Why did this woman suffer in this synagogue for 18 years,
instead of only 1 week? Why didn’t the
leaders of this church lay hands upon her, and call for Father God to heal her,
and drive out the demon within her? They
did not, because they cared not. Women
were just not that important to begin with.
These leaders were too timid to publicly demonstrate their lack of
faith, never believing it was even possible.
And they did not visit her on the other six days they recommended for
this kind of work either. No, instead
they were content to let her suffer and blame her for her suffering. Has anything changed? If God is supposed to be praised in our
services, don’t you think we could offer those in need, and those who are
suffering a reason to experience new joy.
Why instead do we mask their suffering, and pretend it should not exist. Why not uncover their suffering, and offer
the healing ministry of Jesus Christ to see it removed, once and for all. Isn’t that what church is supposed to be all
about? If you want to see explosive joy
today, get off your butt, and interact with God, to bring Jesus into the life
of the suffering, so that they have reason to explode in praise to God. When Jesus pointed these things out to the
leaders there, they were ashamed. As
should we be. If we are content to see
the suffering, continue to suffer, we should also be ashamed. For we know the cure, we know the medicine,
it is Jesus Christ and Him alone.
But there is hope.
For the believers who knew this woman, and attended church with her,
shared in her joy. And they too began to
praise God. An act of Love as demonstrated
by God Himself, to interrupt even church for the sake of one in need, touched
the hearts of those in attendance. News
of it would spread far and wide. Relieving
suffering was even more important to God, than delivering His own sermon and
Truth. He could take the time out to see
suffering relieved. The sermon would be
waiting till He was finished changing lives.
That was the priority of the Son of God, and His Father, and His Holy
Spirit. Why is it not ours? Why do we so value and treasure structure in
church, that we make no time for those in real need. If we cannot demonstrate the love of Jesus in
real time, to real people, we are nothing more than noise. We need to adjust how we think about
church. We need to adjust our ideas
about why people praise, and become more active in giving them reason to. Let our own tapestry make more of a
difference. And as my wife reminds me,
take joy in the lives of others, even when you have suffered loss in your
own. The families of patients who have
passed on, still celebrate the lives of those who have not. Those families have suffered horrific loss,
yet they can share joy with others who have not. Not all of them Christian. So should we do any less? Would that in church we grieved more
together, and then sought the Lord to relieve our grief, until we have reason
for overwhelming joy. It has happened
before. It will happen again.
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