Berserk2
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While I was in senior year in Princeton Seminary, my family in Winnipeg, Canada heard that a Christian faith healer, Rev. Good, was coming to town and decided to go and see him. No Pentecostal or charismatic church would host this guy; so he had to hold his services at Lighthouse Mission, a very seedy place that smelled of urine. When I was just 16, I got to preach my first sermon there. What no one told me is that the homeless men who attended had to stay through the song service to get fed, but could leave before the sermon. So when I got up to preach, about 100 men walked out to go to their meal across the street. I was crushed! But a few stayed; so I preached a sermon that assumed that truth is measured in decibels. After the service, one drunk came forward for prayer, knelt down, and seemed to fall asleep. I knelt beside him and wanted to say something helpful to get his attention. So I said, “Mr., just 'cause you're a bum doesn't mean God doesn't love you!” This got his attention instantly: “Who are you calling a bum!” When he recovered from my politically incorrect label, he asked for prayer, and I complied. OK, so my style needed work.
Fast forward to Rev. Good. For reasons I still don't understand, my Dad, Mom, and brother Doug went to Lighthouse Mission to hear him. When I flew home for Christmas, I was told what happened in the meeting. Rev. Good picked Mom out of the crowd and rightly declared that she was in pain from calcium deposits in her shoulder. He pronouced her divinely healed—and she was! Then he pointed to Doug and announced: “You have kidney pain.” Doug, a new Med Student at the time, was about to deny this, when Rev. Good added, “The symptom is a chronic stabbing pain in the small of your back! But the Lord has just healed you.” Acccurate again—and Doug's pain vanished! Then Mom looked me in the eye and told me Rev. Good clairvoyantly said something about me! This claim worried me because Mom had been scolding me for becoming too liberal at seminary—and now I was going to hear what God thought about my backslidden condition! After the service, Rev. Good went to his car with Mom in hot pursuit. He turned to her, thought a moment, and then said, “Lady, you're worried about your son back in the USA. You think he's getting too liberal!” Long pause! I was sweating because he had shown incredible clairvoyance to her and Doug. Rev. Good finally smiled and said, “Well, he's not getting too liberal; so don't worry about it!” I sighed deeply. Later on that visit I said something that Mom construed as too liberal. I protested, “But Mom, you've just heard directly from God's mouthpiece that I'm not too liberal!” She smiled sweetly, saying, “Oh, what does he know?”
Here's the real reason why I'm posting this story. During the meeting, Rev. Good remarked that he was retiring from the healing ministry. The hours of prayer it took to keep his gift active were now becoming too much of a strain for him. I now wonder if there would be lot more miracles if we prayed a lot longer than we do with a greater focus. It struck me that Rev. Good seemed far more gifted than more famous faith healers who drew big crowds in large arenas. Apparently, there's little relationship between miracles and fanfare. Or is there an inverse relationship?
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