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SET OUR HEARTS ON FIRE Chapter Thirteen
Hello, Lazarus!
Sooner or later, every revival is tested. If it survives the test, the revival is strengthened. If it fails, it begins to weaken and drift. One of the most difficult tests comes in the form of a human visitor, who hardly looks like a messenger of God. In fact, the man is a disruption. How can we concentrate on the glories of heaven-sent revival, when this repulsive beggar parks his infectious body right outside our door?
"We'd like to help you, friend, but you've come at a bad time. Our prayer service is about to begin."
"All I'm asking for is a little food. Or maybe money for a cup of coffee."
"Here's five dollars. Wish it could be more. See you later." We breathe a sigh of relief as he walks away, but somehow we know that our prayer meeting is already off to a bad start. Could it be that there is a connection between revival and this needy man?
We first meet Lararus in a parable of Jesus, lying at the rich man's gate, covered with sores and yearning for a few scraps from the rich man's table. Only the dogs seem to care about this man, as they come and lick his sores. But heaven is watching over Lazarus. Lazarus dies, and a band of angels carries him to Abraham's bosom.
The rich man also dies and finds himself in a place of anguish. Looking up toward heaven, the rich man sees Lazarus from afar, resting in the bosom of Abraham. Strange, during his earthly life, when Lazarus lay at his gate, the rich man never noticed him. But now he even remembers the beggar's name. "Father Abraham, have mercy upon me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in anguish in this flame" (Lk 16:24).
There was a time when Lazarus could have done much more than ease the rich man's pain. Lazarus could have been the doorway to the rich man's spiritual awakening. It was no accident that he lay begging at this particular gate. In the mysterious workings of God's mercy, Lazarus lay there as the rich man's hope.
Through Lazarus, God was offering the rich man a way to redeem his covetous soul. Show Lazarus a little kindness, offer him a little relief from his suffering, and you are learning mercy, opening the door of your heart to receive the gift of grace.
How can a heart of stone receive grace? Talk to Lazarus. Put some salve on those wounds, bring him some bread and wine to give him strength. Fill his empty pocket with a bit of money out of your abundance. The encouragement you give to Lazarus will multiply a thousand times over in your own heart, and you will begin to hear the voice of God once more.
The rich man was no heathen. He kept the Sabbath. He faithfully attended the synagogue and always journeyed to Jerusalem for the high holy days. But he saw no connection between his faith and this miserable beggar at his gate. The rich man was blind. He could not see that Lazarus was his link with the living God.
Welcome Lazarus, and you welcome the Messiah. Reject Lazarus, and you have rejected the Messiah, no matter how fervent your prayers or eloquent your witness.
What's the Connection?
If there is a connection between revival and the appearance of Lazarus in our lives, it is one that is often hard to fathom. Lazarus neither looks nor acts like a gift from God. He is repulsive, disruptive, demanding, ungrateful, and he seems to have an intuitive sense of the most inopportune time to appear.
Sometimes Lazarus is bold enough to come in and worship with us. Before long we can see that we have a problem on our hands. This person sets everybody on edge. You never know what he or she is going to come out with. He can throw a meeting off balance in thirty seconds. And even when she sits and stares at the ceiling, she seems to drain the life out of us. What can such a person possibly contribute to the revival among us?
Our encounter with Lazarus begins with the best of intentions. After all, revival has inspired us to rejoice in the Lord always – in all circumstances. We find ourselves praising God for the blue sky and the green grass, for the snow, and the wind and the rain beating against the window. Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. Philippians 4:4-6 Our hearts open wide to people we formerly held at a distance. "Welcome, Lazarus! The Lord is so good! Come in and enjoy his goodness with us!"
But soon our generosity is challenged. Lazarus begins to manifest his true nature. Instead of showing grateful appreciation for our kindness, he starts biting the hand that feeds him. He complains. He insults half the people at the potluck. And the Spirit reminds us that this is our opportunity to "let all men know your forbearance [the generous overlooking of insult or injury]." We are being shown by the Lord that revival is not just ecstasy and joy, it is also forgiveness, forbearance, patience, faithfulness toward "difficult" people, as God has been faithful to us.
But where will it all lead? We seem to have a bull in our china shop that needs a tranquilizing bullet.
No, says the Spirit you have a living soul in your midst for whom the Lamb's blood was shed as truly as it was shed for you. How you treat this person has more to do than you may imagine with how the revival among you will progress. "Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God."
Throughout our Lord's ministry there was always a Lazarus near him. By example, Jesus taught his disciples the importance of treating Lazarus with honor and love. Each Lazarus was sent by God. And each Lazarus who drew near to Jesus was a type, a foreshadowing, of a person whom we can expect to meet, as revival spreads among us. We need to look very carefully at these "Lazaruses" who came to Jesus, and observe how Jesus treated each one. For if Lazarus is not already among us, he soon will be. He comes to us as a gift from God and is to be treated as such.
Meet the Woman at the Well There came a woman of Samaria to draw water. Jesus said to her, "Give me a drink." For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food. The Samaritan woman said to him, "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" John 4:7-9
Don't expect this woman to come knocking at the door of your church, looking for salvation. She is very conscious of being a "Samaritan," an outsider, and she has no interest in finding acceptance in your church. Yet she carries a water jar that needs to be filled. She's thirsty. And she brings with her a history of many disappointments. Now she approaches the well, a public place, where everybody in the village comes for water. She chooses to come at high noon, an hour when the well is normally deserted.
The important thing for us to remember is that this woman has been sent across our path by the living God. Our love for God is confirmed or invalidated by the way we regard her, the way we relate to her. Jesus knows that he is on her turf. This is her well, not his. He is her guest.
"Give me a drink."
"How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" (You're a Jew; I'm a Samaritan. You're a man, I'm a woman. You shouldn't be talking to me. And I shouldn't be talking to you.)
"If you knew what God has in store for you, and who it is that's asking you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."
"Living water? Where are you going to get that? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us this well?" "Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I give him will never thirst. The water that I give will become a spring within him, welling up to eternal life."
"Okay, give me this water."
"Go call your husband and come here." "I have no husband."
"You've had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband."
"I can see you're a prophet. So where's the right place to worship? You say Jerusalem. We say this mountain."
"Believe me, woman, neither this mountain nor Jerusalem is the place. The hour is coming – has come when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth."
"Well, I know that when Messiah comes, he'll show us."
"You're looking at him."
The woman leaves her water jar at the well and returns to the village with a gospel. "Come, see a man who told me all I ever did. Is not this the Messiah?" Her words ignite the village and they follow her to the Master.
This woman can be found in every city on earth and in every country village. Not only is she thirsty for living water, she is a window through which the encouragement of heaven visits every disciple who asks her for a drink. This woman may be living next door to us. She may work where we work.
The woman at the well cannot be reached with a canned gospel. She's real. She's down-to-earth. She knows more about life than we do and can smell a patronizing attitude ten miles away. But she is open to the truth, when she hears it spoken and sees it lived. Sooner or later, because she is thirsty, God will guide her to the living water. But if we walk past her in our blindness or drive her away with our arrogance, we quench the flame God has ignited within us.
Look for Levi the Tax Collector
As he passed on, he saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax office, and he said to him, "Follow me." And he rose and followed him. And as he sat at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. Mark 2:14-15 Levi too is an outsider. He tries not to let it bother him. He keeps himself busy doing what he does best: making money. Respectable people shun Levi. It irks them that Levi has a bigger house than they do. That Levi sends his children to better schools, eats better, dresses better. Levi is a man of the world. What do we have in common with Levi? Let him do his thing, and well get on with the business of the kingdom of God.
But Jesus doesn't see it that way. Jesus looks at Levi and sees a rich man who isn't nearly as attached to things as many respectable believers are. Levi may know the value of money, but he also knows its limits. This man is closer to the kingdom than his critics would ever dream, because he at least regards himself as a sinner in need of redemption. He's poor in spirit.
Levi hasn't been spending all his time in the tax office. More than once Jesus has noticed him standing on the edge of the crowd, listening, watching the healings with tears running down his face. This man is ready to be a disciple.
Jesus never singles him out of the crowd. He waits until he finds Levi on his own turf, his tax office. "Follow me." Jesus only has to say it once.
Levi knows what this means. He's been hoping for this moment. He gets up and follows. Levi's first response is to invite all his friends to celebrate with him, as he begins his new life with the Master.
My friend Ray was born knowing how to survive and how to "make a buck." In the days when he owned a bar near Tiger Stadium, few people would have dreamed that this man, who always carried a handgun in his belt and knew how to use it, was on a quest for the kingdom of God.
When Ray saw some of his friends committing their lives to Jesus, he envied them. Part of him wanted to join them. But what about all the changes I'll have to make, if I turn my life over to Jesus? The inner wrestling match went on for several years.
Then one hot July evening a soft-spoken Jewish woman who loves Jesus came for a chat. Soon the word was out that Ray had done it. He was following Jesus.
There were people who came to our church just to see if it was true that Ray was "going to church." But he did more than go to church. He began making changes in the way he lived. He sold the bar. He began giving instead of taking. And to the amazement of most of his friends, Ray unashamedly announced to all who would listen that Jesus was the one who was changing his life.
Don't be misled by Levi's worldly appearance. Something holy is at work within him. He is a window through which the encouragement of heaven descends upon those who reach out to welcome him. Find him. Get to know him. Meet him on his own turf. Watch the Spirit of God move on him ... and on you, as you serve him in Jesus' name.
Welcome Mary Magdalene
And the twelve were with him, and also some women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven devils had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their means. Luke 8:1-3
When the disciples first saw Mary Magdalene, she was a basket case. "Send her away, Master, she disrupts our meetings with her crying and carrying on. If she keeps coming, everybody else will leave."
But Jesus saw Mary Magdalene with different eyes. He saw a tender spirit, crushed beneath the weight of demonic chains. Seven devils had found their way into this suffering soul. The last thing this woman needed was another rejection.
"Mary," he said to her. She ceased her sobbing and gazed at him through veiled eyes. She could not speak. Her face turned toward the door. Should she make a run for it?
"Mary," he said a second time. Her seven captors were still holding her hostage. Then came the word of command from the Master. Ordered to depart, these spirits of despair slid from her soul like seven serpents alarmed by a sudden fight.
A few years later she would hear her name spoken from his lips, when everyone thought he was dead. "Mary," he would say. She would be the first to see him and talk with him.
Meanwhile, Mary Magdalene, who seemed so unpromising when they first met her, became a major force in that band of followers. She poured out her life in gratitude for her deliverance. She served. She provided for them out of her means. She is remembered to this day as a daughter of encouragement in the ministry of our Lord. And God will use Mary Magdalene to teach us vital lessons, if we will allow our eyes to see beyond her misery. We're looking at a person who has a troubled mind. She walks into the room and people become uncomfortable. Was it just in apostolic times that a person like Mary Magdalene could be delivered from her demons? Is it absurd to expect the Lord in our midst to set this woman free? Surely someone among us has eyes to see the tender spirit crushed under those chains.
But what's the procedure? How do we deal with this woman? Do we place her on a chair in the middle of the room and start rebuking her demons?
Don't worry about the procedure. Jesus never offered a seminar on how to cast out demons. He just gave his followers authority over the dark spirits, trusting that when the need arose, they would know what to do. "Heal the sick, cast out demons," Jesus said, as he sent them out in his name. But Jesus had a lot to say about the kind of love that welcomes people and heals their souls. Love that forgives, forbears, takes time with people, treats them with honor, washes their feet.
If we welcome Mary Magdalene who comes to us with a troubled spirit, if we accept her, treat her with respect, love her, God will show us what she needs. And as we welcome her, the revival will gain strength.
Appreciate Zacchaeus
And there was a man named Zacchaeus; he was a chief rax collector, and rich. And he sought to see who Jesus was, but could not, on account of the crowd, because he was small of stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today" LUKE 19:2-5
God sends Zacchaeus into our lives to teach us humility. "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Mt 23:12). Zacchaeus finds it easy to respond to Jesus because he knows how to humble himself. People murmured when Jesus went to have dinner with Zacchaeus. "He has gone to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." True, Zacchaeus knew how to clip off a healthy share for himself when he collected taxes for his Roman masters. But he also knew that his soul was empty. When Zacchaeus spotted the crowd coming down the road, pressing around the Galilean prophet, it brought a flash of hope. This rich little tax collector threw his pride out the window, ran ahead and climbed a tree. "Look at Zacchaeus, up in that sycamore tree!" people snickered.
He didn't care. He wanted to see Jesus.
"Zacchaeus, hurry up and come down; for I must stay at your house today," said Jesus.
Pride would have run away, covered with embarrassment. Zacchaeus scrambled down and received Jesus joyfully.
In the middle of dinner, Zacchaeus stood up and took a step of repentance and faith, in the one way that made sense to him. "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I will now give to the poor. And if I have defrauded any one of anything, I restore it fourfold."
Jesus asked nothing more and said, "Today, salvation has come to this house" (Lk 19:8-9).
Was Zacchaeus buying salvation by giving half his goods to the poor? No, this was Zacchaeus' response to the salvation that came to him when Jesus entered his house. Zacchaeus was grateful to the point where he opened his heart and offered up to God the wealth that had always meant so much to him.
When Zacchaeus finds his way into our church, we become uncomfortable with the way he casts aside his pride and throws away his money. We're convicted. Because we know that the revival which has ignited us is calling us to follow his example.
Lord, help us to lay aside our pride as easily as this man does; and enable us, like Zacchaeus, to loose our grip on mammon!
Don't Send Her Away
And behold a Canaanite woman from that region came out and cried, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely possessed by a demon." But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, "Send her away, for she is crying after us." Matthew 15:22-23
She's a Canaanite. The faithful regard her as a Gentile dog. You don't take the children's bread and throw it to dogs. She's aggressive. She's loud. She has a one-track mind. Send her away. Please, Master, get rid of her!
Sometimes this Canaanite woman worms her way into our churches and causes havoc. She mars our Bible studies, she throws a wrench into our planning meetings with her one-track mind. If she's spotted before she reaches the front door, three ushers are there to meet her and turn her away, before she disrupts the service.
What does she want? Why is she making such a fuss? Jesus acts as if he couldn't care less about the woman's need. "I've been sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
But she comes and kneels before him, "Lord, help me." "It's not fair to take the children's bread and throw it to dogs," says the Master.
"Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."
At last Jesus reveals his heart. "O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire." And her daughter is healed instantly.
Don't send her away. Listen to her. Give her a chance to express the cry of her soul. If she wants to talk during the service, bring her into another room and talk with her. She was sent to us by God. Meet her in his name. Respond to her with his love, and the fire of heaven will begin to answer her cry and overflow from her grateful heart.
One day I saw a middle-aged woman sitting on the church steps, drinking from a two-liter bottle of Pepsi. "Caught me drinking on the church steps." She chuckled.
I invited her to come in, but she wasn't comfortable with the idea. The invitation must have haunted her, because a few months later, there she was, sitting in the back of the church, jotting down on paper her critique of everything she observed.
Joan had an active (some would say overactive) mind. And her mouth never lagged far behind. At Bible studies she delighted in "stealing the show" with a barrage of questions and comments that blasted away all tranquility. "Why does God let babies suffer? Why don't churches practice what they preach? What makes you people think you have all the answers?" Twice I felt that Joan was going too far on her "campaign of disruption" and sent her away as if she were a naughty child. Both times Joan was deeply hurt, and I was far from comfortable with myself or with the Lord. It seemed that when Joan left, things became too quiet. It was an empty quiet, a disturbing quiet. Did something of the Spirit of God leave with her?
Well, what else could I do? I asked myself. What else, indeed. I would visit Joan, and we would agree on some ground rules. On her return, Joan would push the rules to the limit. But we knew that we were stuck with each other. Joan belonged to us, and we belonged to her. The Lord had brought us together for some refining. She too is part of the revival.
What's This Samaritan Doing Here?
And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." When he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Luke 17:12-16
The Samaritan is the supreme outsider. He belongs to a nation in our midst that frightens us. Samaritans are sullen and angry. You never know what's going on in their heads. Yet, most of us have received more kindness from Samaritans than we like to admit. When you couldn't figure out which subway would get you to the Bronx, a Samaritan went out of his way to put you on the right train. When your car broke down outside Philadelphia, a Samaritan came to your rescue. Was there anyone at the time of your bereavement who brought more warmth and comfort than a Samaritan mother who fed you in her kitchen and called you often to see how you were doing?
But why is this Samaritan coming to our church? Doesn't he have a church of his own? What's he up to?
He probably couldn't explain it himself. All he knows is that he has come here with a full heart, a grateful heart. He wants to fall on his face at Jesus' feet and give thanks. Can't we see that this Samaritan brings with him a spirit of gratefulness that we badly need? As he lifts his heart in thanksgiving, we are lifted with him. And the Spirit within us says, "Learn from this man. He knows how to appreciate what God has done for him. And he's not afraid to express it."
One Sunday Billie and her mother, Alice, were driving past our church and noticed some black people coming out, along with the white folks.
"I guess we'd be welcomed there," said Billie. "It's only half as far as we're driving now. Let's try it next Sunday."
Billie and Alice came, felt comfortable and were soon part of the congregation. Alice liked to praise God. She liked to say, "Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!" when her heart overflowed. But Messiah Church, in those days, was rather subdued. Nobody said "Hallelujah! Thank you, Jesus!" unless the words were properly expressed as part of the liturgy. The first time it happened, Billie could tell that some of the worshipers were disturbed. "Better cool it, Mama," said Billie, "We're new here."
I can still remember Alice's smile, as she said to her daughter, "If I want to praise my God, I'm going to praise my God!" In a few years the congregation began to catch up with Alice's spirit of praise and thanksgiving.
He doesn't look like a Lazarus. He seems to have it together. Well educated, financially secure, highly respected in the community. He's the kind of man any church is proud to have as a member. If we play it right, Nicodemus will bring a flood of followers with him. "Nicodemus joined that church? Wow! Maybe we should check it out." Get Nicodemus, and you'll get his con-stituents.
Our temptation is to roll out the red carpet for Nicodemus, to exploit his high standing in the community in the service of the revival. If we succumb to this temptation, Nicodemus will suffer, and so will the revival. Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do, unless God is with him." Jesus answered him, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God." John 3:1-3 "Unless one is born anew, he cannot see the kingdom of God." What a strange welcome for this high-profile visitor!
People have always treated Nicodemus as one of Israel's best. Why does Jesus tell this fine man that he needs to be born anew?
Nicodemus knows that something is missing in his soul. But surely it's only a matter of upgrading. He has come to Jesus looking for the missing piece that will complete him.
But even if you're a respected Nicodemus, you don't need an upgrade, you need a rebirth. You need to discover that the nature you were born with, even at its very best, is twisted in upon itself. It watches itself performing those acts of piety with satisfaction. It stands outside itself and admires its charity and good sense. People come for advice and go away singing your praises. And these very praises cling to the walls of your soul like trophies won in a tournament, and blind you to the truth about yourself, until the Master explains to you that that which is born of the flesh is flesh. You need to be born of the Spirit.
This is why Jesus received Nicodemus, not as a celebrity, but as a Lazarus. Jesus saw the need of his soul and put it under the light of heaven, so that Nicodemus could see it too. This frustrating interview was the turning point in the man's life.
When the local magistrate began attending our church in Nova Scotia, it was soon the talk of the town. The magistrate had not been inside a church for many a year, and he was hardly thought of as a religious man. But he had power, and that power was respected. Shortly after he had donated a stove for our kitchen, the magistrate joined the men of the church for a supper of fish chowder. Perhaps he was disappointed that these younger, less educated men treated him as a peer. After all, he was the magistrate. And some of these very men had appeared as defendants in his court.
To add to his discomfort, the speaker delivered a strong, pointed message. The magistrate was offended. He noisily pushed back his chair and made for the door.
Two men followed the magistrate to the narthex and challenged him, in the name of the Lord, to "stick around, and be a brother." He hesitated, sighed and returned to his seat. For his own good, this man was to be loved, but not coddled.
Nicodemus reappears twice more on the pages of the Gospel of John. Each time his faith appears to be stronger. After the crucifixion we see Nicodemus lugging a chest of costly spices for Jesus' burial, risking his reputation as a teacher in Israel, clear evidence that he has now become a disciple.
When Nicodemus comes to our church, he needs to be loved, but not catered to. After he receives his rebirth, give him a chance to walk humbly with his Lord. Don't turn the spotlight on him for the world to see and call it his "testimony." That's exploitation and may very well endanger the new life which has begun in him. If we welcome Nicodemus the way Jesus welcomed him, keeping it low-key and concentrating on the one need of his soul – rebirth – then the cry of his heart will find a genuine answer.
Passing the Test
Lazarus is not a distraction. He is an essential part of every revival. Through this needy person, Jesus is saying to the potential Pharisee within each of us, "Go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice'" (Mt 9:13). Mercy is learned, not through contemplation, but through practice – in dealing with real people with real needs, who try our patience in unexpected ways.
As our revival passes the "Lazarus test," it acquires flesh-and-blood hands and feet and begins to travel beyond the walls of our homes and churches into places that were heretofore untouched by it. We will watch in amazement, as the Lord adds to our number day by day those who are being saved (see Acts 2:47).
LORD, SET MY HEART ON FIRE!
From "Set Our Hearts On Fire" published by Servant Publications 1998
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