Matthew 20:17-19, “Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. On the way, he took the Twelve aside and said to them, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!”
I hate stories about myself. I like to live in the shadows. When I’m in a position where I must “perform,” I get not just uneasy but irritated. I hate getting awards; I love achieving them, just not getting them. My social anxiety is paradoxical because I have run large organizations with hundreds of people. I’m fine when I can talk about a subject that does not include me. I don’t like the spotlight on me.
Today I’m going to suck it up and talk about myself. I think there is something in this story that might brighten your Easter. At Easter, we say, “He has Risen.” The response is, “He has Risen indeed.” But do we believe God is with us, or do we go along? Is God tangible?
Luke 24:6-7, “He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.”
THE STORY
Over forty years ago, I was rising in my career and healthy. I ran ten miles every day. I later was informed that I ran every day because I had an addiction to endorphin, not because I had a fixation on my health. Stress filled my life. Because I had never experienced sustained success in my life, I thought stress was just part of the job. So, I ran to be sane. The endorphin kept me on an even keel so that I could cope. Although I must add that I still exercise and believe in exercise, I’m no longer addicted to it.
It was spring, so I wanted to step up my daily routine, but I had an odd problem. After about four or five miles, my vision would collapse into a small hole in the center of my eyesight; it’s called myopia. I would walk a couple of hundred yards, myopia would go away, and I would start running again. I felt great. There were no other symptoms. All I needed was a shot or a pill to make it go away, and I could increase my workouts. I had a friend, Charles, a doctor; he was a cardiologist. I didn’t have a regular doctor because I didn’t seem to need one, so I got an appointment with Charles. Here is where the story takes a twist. After just a few minutes in the examination room, Charles calls one of his partners in; they talk cryptically and then ask, “What are you doing this afternoon?”.
THE TWIST
I’ll try to make this less boring by getting to the part you want to hear as fast as possible. I spent a week in the hospital as they ran an encyclopedia of tests. The results were that they knew I had a severe problem but couldn’t isolate it. So, they demanded that I quit all forms of exercise until they knew what was causing the problem. This is the place in the story where I learned about endorphin addiction and withdrawal.
Months went by, and the problem progressed. I was sitting on the couch watching TV one night, and myopia struck. These episodes were becoming more frequent. I was instructed to call Charles every time I had one. Charles said stop what you are doing and come to his office a 7:30 in the morning before it opens. I told him that I couldn’t do less short of stopping breathing. It was the first time I was concerned; up to this point, I was mainly perturbed. It was an inconvenience in my life. So, I went to bed.
MY MOMENT
This night I was to understand what it meant to have Christ be with me, not figuratively but literally. At around two o’clock in the morning, I woke to see myself lying in bed. I was above the bed, looking down at myself, sleeping. It wasn’t a dream; I was hovering above myself. I slowly slid down the wall until I was back on the bed, eyes wide open, terrified.
Isaiah 41:10. “‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely, I will help you, surely, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’”
A thousand thoughts were racing through my brain. Everything I thought had significant risk. Then, all of a sudden, Christ reached down. His message was clear and concise, go to the emergency room across the street from Charles’s office and wait. I was calm and relaxed. It was only a couple of miles away, and there was no traffic in the early morning. I went inside and took a seat. I told the nurse that I was waiting for a doctor’s appointment across the street. I had this odd dialog inside my head, part prayer and part discussion; we talked about my future. The nurse interrupted this discussion to say either you’re in or out; this isn’t a waiting room. I guess I’m in was my reply.
1 Corinthians 15:20-21, “But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man.”
My heart stopped four times in the emergency room before Charles arrived. I apologized for getting him out of bed, and then the lights went out. The next thing I saw was a masked man looking down at me, saying it would be alright. God smiled and said, “I told you so.”
GOD IS TANGIBLE
I could have died that night at home alone, but God had other plans. It was His presence that calmed my soul and gave me clarity. It was His plan for my life that pulled me through. Christ was a presence as real as Charles.
Easter isn’t a feel-good story. Instead, it is the culmination of eons of compassion, love, and caring. If we don’t experience His presence in our lives, it is because we don’t believe He is truly with us. Christ paid an enormous price so that we could have a deep, personal relationship with Him. He is there in the room with you now. He will not desert you or grow tired of you.
Romans 10:9, “If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”