Out of Control…

During my seminary days, I was a chaplain at University Hospital in Louisville. The chaplains rotated shifts in the emergency room overnight to minister to those brought in. The hospital was a level three trauma center, so we got every accident, every gunshot, every drug overdose. When I had the ER shift, I don’t ever remember getting more than a couple hours of broken sleep on a hard cot in the chapel.

In that ER, the chaplain was not only there to minister to those in crisis, he or she was an extra pair of hands when needed. My first night on duty, I was walking through the ER and a resident grabbed me. He told me to hold a man down while they made an incision into his stomach cavity to see if he had internal bleeding. I held the man down by his shoulders while they gave him local anesthetic, then cut him open. Nobody told me the ER was going to be like this.

The shift I’ll never forget happened a few nights later. A young woman was brought in by ambulance. They had radioed ahead to expect trouble. The nurse called for me. “She might need a chaplain,” she said.

The ambulance pulled up to the bay and backed in. The security guard toggled the doors. As they swung open, I saw the inside of the ambulance looked like a cat fight had broken out. Boxes had been ripped open, IV units were on the floor, and the EMT looked like he had finished third in a knife fight.

They unloaded the gurney and I got my first good look at the young woman. She looked to be eighteen or nineteen, dishwater blonde hair, and skinny, maybe about hundred and ten pounds after an all-you-can-eat buffet. She was straining against the restraints, her eyes wild, and she was screaming cuss words that would make a cowboy blush.

“Give us a hand, Chap,” called the security guard. This was my call to action, to be the extra pair of hands. “Grab her right leg, we’re going to unloose the straps and put her on a hospital gurney.” Something told me this wasn’t such a good idea. I have been to many rodeos in my life, and my intuition told me we were about to have one right here in the ER.

A nurse held the woman’s head, three security guards and me each grabbed a limb, and the EMT loosened the straps. At that time, I weighed a little over 200 pounds and was in pretty good shape. Two of the security guards looked like they topped out over 250, and the third was in my weight class. When the straps let go, this hundred-and-ten-pound young woman began to thrash and jerk. It was like trying to hold the leg of a running horse. Her leg jerked from my grasp and for a sickening second, I thought she was about to shake loose and run. I leaned my full weight onto her leg, got a firm grip and a faraway look, and held on for dear life.

Somehow, we got her onto the hospital gurney and another nurse produced a straitjacket. I wasn’t sure this was going to work. Imagine trying to capture a hundred-and-ten-pounds of cussing fury and tying it up. Extra nurses poured out of the ER. This was not their first rodeo. First one arm got tucked into a sleeve and then another. She bit one of the nurses and tried to bite a security guard. I was glad I was on the end with no teeth.

We got her belted down and she was placed in the “quiet room.” The quiet room was a bare room with nothing but concrete walls, a caged light, and door with a window. Think of a prison cell with less class and that was the quiet room.

The nurses could monitor her by video, but they told me to stroll by every so often and see if she wanted to talk. This was like asking if I wanted to talk to a charging bull.

After an hour, she had calmed down. She stopped cussing and asked me to tell the nurses she no longer needed to be restrained. I passed the message on. The medical team came, rolled her into the ER proper, and after treating her, told me she wanted to talk to me. I didn’t know why, except that I had become very well acquainted with her right leg during our introduction.

When I pulled back the curtain, she smiled, and apologized. It turned out she was a diabetic, and she had gone to her first “adult” party. Alcohol was in abundance and she partook, having no idea about the sugar level of beer. After six or seven beers, her body rebelled, and she lost control.

She told me while she was out of control, she knew what was happening, but she was powerless to stop it. Somehow, I knew to smile at her and say, “That’s the definition of being out of control.”

We talked about faith and Jesus. She said she grew up in church but stopped going when she was in high school. This experience, she said, made her think she needed to take God more seriously. I said I hoped she would. I prayed with her. She said she felt like getting some sleep. I understood the feeling.

It was about four AM when I finally made it to the cot in the chapel. I couldn’t get the experience out of head. When I checked the ER at seven in the morning, she had been discharged. That’s the frustrating part of being a hospital chaplain – you are there for the moment, not for the journey. But I could pray for her and I did.

I prayed a simple prayer: “Lord, help that young woman let you be in control of her life. Because Lord, it looked to me like when she was in control, she was out of control.” Then the Spirit spoke to me: “Remember Clay, that goes for you too.”

The Other Realm…

Dr. S. W Mitchell was a well-known neurologist in Philadelphia.  One evening, a little girl, poorly dressed and deeply troubled, knocked on his door.  She told Dr. Mitchell her mother was very sick.  Could he please come with her?  It was cold and snowing, and Dr. Mitchell was tired, but something in the girl’s plea compelled him to go. 

This was in the era when doctors made house calls.  Dr. Mitchell dressed and followed the girl.  When he arrived at the home, he found the mother ill with pneumonia.  He arranged for the medical care she needed.  Before leaving, Dr. Mitchell complimented the sick woman on the intelligence and persistence of her daughter.  The woman stared at him for a moment.  “My daughter died a month ago,” she said.  “Her shoes and coat in the clothes closet there.” 

Dr. Mitchell was perplexed, and his curiosity compelled him to open the closet door.  Hanging in the closet was the same coat worn by the little girl who knocked on his door.  The coat was warm and dry and obviously had not been recently worn. 

How do you explain such a thing?  Was it a coincidence?  A vision?  An angel?   

During the Japanese occupation of China in World War II, a truck carrying Japanese marines stopped in front of a Christian bookstore in Shanghai.  The back of the truck was half-filled with books.  The shopkeeper realized the soldiers had come to seize the books in his store as well.  The marines jumped from the truck, but before they could enter, a man entered the shop.  The shopkeeper knew practically all his customers, but this man was a stranger.   

The soldiers did not enter the shop.  They seemed unable to follow the stranger into the store.  They looked in the windows and loitered on the sidewalk for two hours.  The man who entered the store asked the shopkeeper what the men outside wanted.  He replied the Japanese were seizing books from many stores in the city and now they had come to seize his books.  The stranger suggested they pray.  While the men were outside, looking, but never entering, the men prayed together, the stranger encouraged the shopkeeper.  Finally, the Japanese soldiers left.  After the soldiers left, the stranger left as well, though he bought nothing. 

How do you explain such a thing?  Was it a coincidence?  A vision?  An angel? 

Billy Graham tells about his grandmother’s death.  She was lying in bed and suddenly, the room filled with bright light.  Though she had been ill for a long time, she sat up in bed and spoke with a hint of laughter, “I see Jesus.  He has his arms stretched out toward me.  I see Ben (her husband who had passed away years earlier) and I see the angels.”  Then she slumped over and died. 

How do you explain such a thing?  Was it a hallucination?  A vision?  A glimpse into another realm? 

I was at the barn on our ranch loading fence posts onto the bed of a pick-up truck.  As I reached for a fence post, I saw a quick movement inches from my hand.  I jumped back.  It was rattlesnake.  I’ve often told this story as a humorous tale (it took a while for me to find a way to kill the snake).  The serious question of the story is this: Why did the snake not bite me?   

How do you explain such a thing?  Was it a coincidence?  My quick reflexes?  An angel? 

I believe there is another realm of reality that we see only dimly.  It is a spiritual reality.  There is much that is unexplainable in our physical world. Science, when it is honest, must say some things cannot be proven or disproven.  The spiritual realm operates by different laws.   

According to the Bible, in this spiritual realm there is a war between forces of evil and forces of good.  The forces of evil fight dirty.  The forces for good fight the good fight.  Jesus followers believe the death and resurrection of Jesus is the turning point in this battle.  The forces of evil, though still strong, are fighting a losing battle, maybe even deluded they can still win.  The problem with evil is it lies and it begins to believe the lies it tells. 

The Apostle Paul said, “We see through a glass darkly.”  We only catch glimpses of this other realm, where the battle rages.  But there is enough evidence to tell us God is at work.  That same evidence suggests God intervenes in our realm, so that his will may be done. 

To deny the existence of this other realm requires faith: faith in science, in your own senses, and in your own construct of reality.  To believe in the existence of this other realm also requires faith: faith in the signs of a loving God, faith in the evidence of story after story, faith in God’s construct of reality.  The question is, where will you put your faith? 

Should Women Go Home?

John MacArthur, a well-known preacher, was recently asked what he would say to Beth Moore, a well-known Bible Teacher.  His response: “Go home.”

What MacArthur implied was Beth Moore has no business teaching the Bible.  She needs to stay home and do whatever woman are supposed to do at home.

 My Momma read me Bible stories when I was little.  Momma read with expression.  She made you feel the fear in Moses’ voice, “Who am I to lead such a people?”  When she came to the parts of the story where God said, “Go!” the way Momma read, you knew you had to go.  She sounded just like God. 

 My Aunt Faye would tell my Sunday School Class stories at church.  In fact, I’m pretty sure all my Sunday School teachers were women until fifth grade.

 When I went to college, our campus minister, Esther Burroughs, taught an eight-week series on Love, Sex, and Marriage.  Those eight weeks introduced me to things I’d never thought of before, like the whole idea that sex in marriage could be joyous. 

 Esther would re-enter my life when I was in my thirties.  I heard her speak to a group of pastors.  I’ll never forget these sentences: “Pastors, the church is the bride of Christ.  Your bride is at home.”  I was beyond convicted. 

 At the Global Leadership Summit this year, I heard Liz Bohannon speak about taking a risk.  After college she went to Uganda to empower young women, ended up founding a company, and changing the lives of thousands.  I thought about the times my fears kept me home instead of boldly going where the real needs are.

 I was in a church meeting once when two men got into an argument.  There were nine of us present.   Six of us watching these men nearly come to blows.  Then Pat Hobbs, one of the wisest women I know, spoke up, calmed the waters, and got us back on track.

I’m glad these women did not stay home.

 Sometimes people aren’t sure if the Bible is for or against women.

 For.

 Okay, that might not be enough of an explanation.  The Bible is not anti-women, not by a long shot.   The Bible often describes events without approving of them.  It tells us that Eve first succumbed to temptation.  There was punishment.  But it also makes clear that Adam succumbed, and he was punished also.  In 1 Timothy 2:13-15 it does tell us about the order of creation (Adam first, then Eve) and the order of temptation (Eve first, then Adam).  But Paul was relating this Christian conduct, especially in worship – women should learn in quietness and in full submission.  Apparently, women were being loud and disruptive.  It’s the next verse that gives people trouble: “I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent.”  Do you notice what’s missing from this verse?  The statement that a man must teach woman and a man must have authority over a woman. 

 Paul also wrote in Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”  The point in the New Testament is that all must first submit to the authority of Jesus – He is the head of the His church.  I believe the passages about women’s conduct in the New Testament are simple reminders for women not to abuse their new freedom in Christ.  The same would be true for men.

 Christian faith has done more than any world faith system to elevate the status of women.  Marriage was elevated from the idea of property and child-bearing to one of intimacy and love (see Song of Solomon).  In the Old Testament, women were accorded rights – for the first time in the ancient world.  If those rights are not what we would expect, we forget that all systems of liberty and rights begin with valuing the person – no matter the race, economic status, or gender.

 I think John MacArthur really missed it.  Beth Moore needs to use the gifts God gave her.  I don’t think the world needs fewer Bible teachers. 

 There is much more to say – but let’s be clear – the Bible teaches that man and woman need redemption – and it is offered to both.  That’s the greatest equality of all.