A Tale From The Crypt Series

It was so dark, and so cold. He had no idea where he was, how long he had been there or what he was supposed to be doing. The last thing he remembered was being at home in bed. He had been sick; nobody knew what to do or even what was wrong. The doctors had come and gone leaving behind potions and powders that had little effect besides depleting their already meager budget.

It was then that Mary had the idea to send a message to their friend. They had all heard the stories. How the lame walked again, the deaf heard and how he had given sight to the blind.

If anyone could do anything for him it would be Jesus! And so a message was sent, and they waited. And waited and waited. The fever left only to be replaced with chills but soon he was burning up again. The days became fragments as he passed in and out of awareness. He could remember bits and pieces of the conversation, most of it centering either on how sick he was or wondering where Jesus was. Where was Jesus? And then, the girls just cried, every time he opened his eyes there was either Mary or Martha holding his hand and weeping. Why was everyone so sad?

And then there was nothing, well almost nothing. He dreamt that he had died and gone to heaven there he saw his parents and his brother who died as a child. And Moses was there and Elijah and God. But it must have been a dream because it was so bright and so warm, and now it was so dark, and so cold. He had no idea where he was, how long he had been there or what he was supposed to be doing. And then he heard something, it was someone calling his name and they were telling him to come out.

Come out of where? And then as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized that he was in some kind of cave, it seemed vaguely familiar and then suddenly he knew he was in the family tomb, laid out on one of the shelves. The last time he had been here they were burying his father, what was he doing here and who was calling his name? He swung his legs clear of the shelf and immediately stumbled against the wall realizing that his legs were loosely bound together. He was wrapped in strips of cloth, even his head was wrapped and he was just able to see shapes and light through the gauze that covered his eyes. What type of nightmare had he awoken into? What was happening to him? Slowly he shuffled his way to the light streaming through the low entrance toward the familiar voice calling his name. And as he ducked through the opening, he heard screams of terror mixed with shouts of joy, as the bandages fell away from his eyes he looked around at the crowd, he saw his sisters and Jesus and Jesus told the people “Unwrap him and let him go!”

At any time, we expect a voice to interrupt telling us,

“You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone.”

This summer our series is entitled “The Miracles of Jesus”, and we are going to be looking at some of the times that Jesus seemed to almost step into the Twilight Zone.

We will look at times that Jesus healed the sick, fed the hungry and controlled nature. And we will tie the series up in September with a healing service at both campuses. Because we truly believe that Jesus is still in the miracle working business.

We all know that the book of John was written by John, but not everyone is sure which John. It was written by John the Apostle, who was the son of Zebedee, a brother of James and friend and fishing partner of Peter. The author is not, never was and never will be John the Baptist.

When was it written? Scholars have different opinions. Some feel that it could have been written as early as AD 50 but the majority feel that it was actually closer to AD 80. And John himself tells us his reason for writing the book in John 20:31 But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in him you will have life by the power of his name.

But what can we learn from the story of Lazarus? And how does it apply to us? What spiritual application can we find in this story?