Pillar of fire forming in the next stall

Do you ever get the feeling that the glory of the Lord is about to be revealed in the next stall, and you're just there as a marking beacon or something?

I mean, what are we but individuals in our own cooped-up bathroom stall, only able to share what's written on our side of the wall?

God has blessed me tonight by dropping in my lap a tremendous witnessing opportunity. You never hear about nonbelievers coming to ask you about their spiritual questions. I've never known anyone to just approach me and ask me how to get to heaven, how to know with certainty that when they die they will not go to hell.

Sharing one's faith is usually like being the pitcher on a baseball field; you spend all your time throwing out the ball but you never expect much of it. Of course, every now and then you strike a batter out, but how often does someone throw you the ball?

Last night, a friend of mine from the French Club, he asked me if I was a Christian. Until very recently, he'd been commenting on my more biblical Facebook statuses with what I perceived as a sarcastic tone. When he asked me if I was a Christian, I told him I was, and then I asked him if he was.

He answered that he was Catholic, but really believed a hodge-podge of things. He told me he asked because he wanted me to pray for him, because he was genuinely afraid. His digestive system had stopped working altogether, and as his body grew weaker and weaker, he realized that he might die soon. He wanted someone who was obviously closer to God than he was to pray for him, because his praying wasn't doing much.

He had surgery yesterday morning. No change in his condition.

Growing up Catholic, he described to me all the traditions he'd been taught to accept as truth, namely "the sacraments, baptism penance, contrition, holy communion, extreme unction."

I did my best to explain that while those things have their place, they are not what saves a person in the end. I got the impression John believed he could work off his sins by feeling sorry enough for all he had done that whatever he did would be absolved.

I explained Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, quoted Jesus's "small is the gate and narrow is the door" statement, and then explained that whoever believes in Jesus will not perish but have eternal life. I told him there was nothing we could do to save ourselves, but that it was by faith alone in the freely given grace of God through the blood of Jesus that we are saved.

It was hard to tell how much of it sunk in because we were talking through text messages because that's all he had the energy to do.

Eventually, I began to feel John needed more encouragement than explanation. I told him the story of Lazarus the sick. He found it hard to believe that Jesus would be so bold in his power. He said he thought that Jesus was more humble than that. I explained to him that he was, that when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, the whole story revolved around the idea of "I could do it, but I want you to see it's God the Father doing it through me."

We stopped talking at exactly 12:30. I cannot say if John found God, but I believe he found peace for the time being. I will post an update as soon as I know how he's doing. Your prayers are appreciated.

Disability in the Bible

I've been thinking a lot about the role disabilities in general play in the Bible. Of course, there's the fact that without them, Jesus might have been left to cure people of bad hair days and a lack of deodorant. But, there's more to it than that.

Although the Bible does characterize a few specific diseases and conditions, most of the time Biblical disabilities are grouped into a few categories. The ones I can think of off the top of my head are the leprous (usually referring to anyone with a skin condition, not necessarily leprosy itself), the blind, the deaf, the mute, the lame, and perhaps the demon-possessed. For the sake of simplicity, I'd rather not go into that last category at this point in time, because while it certainly is a crippling condition, it's hard to define what it is exactly. I've heard it presented that many of the demon possessions in the Bible resemble the symptoms of modern diseases, but for me, it's cooler for Jesus to cast a legion of demons into a herd of pigs than for him to simply cure an epileptic.

The role of disabled people is special indeed. Usually, disabled people are a way for God's power to be shown to the world, but in my opinion, they are also metaphors for the difference between those who believe in God and those who really don't.

If I had to guess, I would imagine disabled people are more likely to want God's help in their lives, because it's not an easy world to live in. The modern world certainly doesn't treat disabled people with the same level of acceptance as non-disabled people, so I can't imagine how hard it was for disabled people in biblical times. Presumably the day-to-day routine for disabled people back then would have been very similar to what it's like to be disabled in a second or third world country today; you'd pretty much be left to fend for yourself.

I don't mean to say that disabled people are less capable of doing things for themselves, then or now--I certainly am not--but what I mean is that disabled people have a greater need for hope and salvation.

It's not my place to speak for disabled people as a whole, either then or now, but I don't have a problem explaining the connection between my disability and my faith.

MD has never allowed me to live a life of certainty, except that I'm certain I will get tired faster, that my legs will ache sooner, and I will need to sit down longer. I have found my certainty with God.

Even though I walk all through the house, a trip to Wal-Mart without my wheelchair is disconcerting. One too many trips up the stairs to my bedroom is all it takes for my legs to fail me at some point during the next 48 hours. Ask any of my friends, and I'm sure they'll tell you when I'm tired, my hands visibly tremble; sometimes it's so severe, I can barely type.

All my life, I left the house afraid, not of what others thought, but of how far my body would carry me, and then how bad it would punish me when I kept going after my body was ready to quit. Sometimes, it's difficult to predict just where my limits lie, or how much energy I have left when I'm with my friends. I won't let my disability slow me down, but I fear the repercussions of an hour out too late or whatever.

What's God's stance on all this? Well, if you're blind or deaf, he promises those senses will work properly one day. If you're lame (I think this might have been a translation error--they obviously meant rad!), you'll be as agile as a deer one day.

I think what that meant for the disabled people back then, is basically that their favorite spots to sit and beg would be abandoned.

Disabled people, even though they're clearly talked about differently than non-disabled people in the Bible, the only way they can get this promised certainty and healing is through Jesus, just like with everyone else.

None of the jerks we encounter every day will be there, and sighing will be overrated.

That's what I believe, and in my experience, it's rang true. God is good.