Your faith has made you well

I decided to attend a charismatic pentecostal church on Sunday night. I'm not sure what drove me to go there (perhaps God led me!), but I was bored, and I always pass the church on my way home from work, so why not?

It was a rather interesting service. I thought the music was exceptionally good, and I even sang along to several of the old hymns (hell, I teared up during "How Great Thou Art"). On the flip-side, the speaker was a 20-something youth pastor with lots of passion, very little theological training, and a deep desire to seem cool and relevant (note to pastors everywhere: mentioning Facebook and Twitter during your sermon doesn't make you cool; it makes you a douchebag). By the 15-minute mark, I was playing BrickBreaker on my BlackBerry (notice how I just referenced my BlackBerry? How cool does that make me?).

Anyways, towards the end of his rambling, seemingly pointless rant, the hip youth pastor decided to have an altar call.

"If anyone needs healing tonight, come forward and be touched by the Lord! If anyone needs their circumstances changed, come forward and be touched by the Lord! If anyone needs Jesus in their life, come forward and be touched by the Lord!"

I love altar calls. Watching an ego-driven pastor invite his poor, unsuspecting audience to "make a public decision for Jesus" so that he can see the impact of his contrived, emotionally manipulative words is truly a sight to behold. And here it was, happening before my very eyes!

"Come to the altar! For restoration! For change! For healing! Yes, God wants to heal you! God can heal you! God will heal you!"

There was lots of yelling, and lots of people were crying, and I felt a mixture of fear, confusion, and embarrassment.

And then I saw them. A young married couple I hadn't spoken to in almost a decade. Old acquiantances. People I used to eat with, pray with, and minister with.

I noticed the husband first. He looked pretty much the same: young, strong, attractive. A beautiful, full head of hair. He was always such a joyful man, always so vibrant and full of life. But something had changed. Something wasn't right. Gone was the excited smile, the childlike exuberance, the sense of wonder. My old friend looked like a man on the brink of nervous breakdown. His face was downcast. His cheeks were tear-stained and red. His eyes... shut.

Moments later, I caught a glimpse of his wife. She was tinier than I remembered, much frailer. And she was completely bald.

Cancer is such an awful fucking thing.

The young woman stood up, slowly made her way to the front of the church, and was instantly surrounded by people who began to pray for her. They lifted their voices upward, almost in unison, begging God for divine intervention, pleading for a miracle.

They commanded it, in Jesus' name.

--

Eventually, the service came to an end. I wandered over to the husband, and we shared an embrace.

"It's been too long," he said. "I hope you're doing well."

A moment passed.

"She doesn't have very much time left."