HEALING ???

                                                       Healing???

“Are you coming with me to hear John Wimber speak at the Conference Center in Burnaby tonight?” Beth said. 

John Wimber was the charismatic leader of a new church Beth had been reading about, called The Vineyard. It was the last night of a three-day conference Beth had been attending. She assured me it would be very interesting, probably even including healings, and such things.  This was in April 1986. The NHL playoffs were on that evening, and I was planning to stay home and watch them on TV. I had just got home from College in Vancouver and didn’t really want to go out in the rain again.

“Naw don’t think so, I want to see the game on the Telly.” I said.

“My car has been acting up a bit lately, I don’t want to drive it that far in the dark. You could drive me to the conference, and then go find a Pub in the area and watch the game.” Beth said.

“The game probably won’t be over until about ten, what time does your thing end?” I said   

“Oh we’ll still be going strong I’m sure.” she said, “The praying and healing goes on for hours after the program has ended.”

“Well Ok, but I don’t want to have anything to do with all those fanatics.” I said.

“Don’t worry; you don’t even have to come in. I’ll be waiting outside for you, when you come at 10.” Beth said.

So I dropped her off and found a nice Pub on 41^st Ave with a big TV screen.  As I entered I realized it there weren’t too many empty tables. In fact there were no empty tables.  As I stood there looking forlorn a fellow about my age yelled at me to join their table.  He was one of the instructors from Langara College. I had been attending Langara for the past year and a half. They were a nice bunch of guys, all rabid hockey fans, a little drunk, and real noisy. I had a great time.

I had two pints of ale over the two and half-hours I stayed at the pub. I don’t think I was at all legally drunk or anything, but I could still feel I wasn’t quite normal. I drove extra careful on the way to pick up Beth.

I arrived at the Conference Center about 10:30. Hundreds of cars were still in the lot. No sign of Beth. I decided to park and go get her.

As you enter this building you go up about a dozen steps on the outside to a sort of lobby.  Off to the right there was the same number of steps going down into the auditorium. I took about two steps down and stopped. The official service was over but there were several groups of people praying for others and talking. Many more were just milling around, in what to me at least, seemed to be mass confusion.

I stood there looking over the heads of all these people trying to pick out Beth. Suddenly I noticed a man over on the far side of the auditorium. He seemed to have his eye on me and was definitely wending his way in my general direction. Don’t ask me how I noticed him out of this horde of people but I did.  Not only did I notice him, I felt sure he had noticed me, and was on his way to convert me.

I just knew it.

I continued to look feverously for Beth, all the while noticing out of the corner of my eye this guy getting closer.

 Where are you Beth?

He is now coming up the steps, maybe he will go past me, and I’m probably imagining all this. He puts his hand on my shoulder. 

I hate men putting their hands on my shoulders.

I particularly dislike religious fanatics putting their hands on me anywhere.

 I fleetingly think if I breathe on him maybe the smell of beer on my breath will make him go away.

“Hello, my name is Peter Evans would you mind if I prayed for you?”

“Yes I would.” I said

“You would mind?”

“Yes I would.”

“Come, come, there must be something you need that I can pray for?” Said Peter.

“No there isn’t.

“Everyone needs something, let me help you.” He said.

“No thanks. I don’t happen to think I need you to pray for me. If I need anything from God I can pray for it myself.” I said trying to breathe all over him.

“God has given me the power to heal people. I travel all over the world healing people.” Peter said.

“Well I think that is wonderful.” I said.

“Do you really think it is wonderful?” Said Peter.

“Of course I do, if you can, heal people.” I said.

“Would you like the power to heal people?” He said

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I said

“No I’m serious. God has not only has given me the power to heal others, he has given me a special gift. The gift of passing this power to a selected few.” Said Peter

“I don’t believe you can heal, or pass the power to others.” I said

“If I could give you this power to heal, would you take it?”  Said Peter, his eyes flashing.

“Well of course I would, but I don’t believe you can?

“I can prove it to you. Let me say a short prayer over you and you will have the gift. You can then heal somebody right here.” Peter said.

By now I noticed a small crowd of people had gathered a few steps below.

How was I going to get rid of this guy? 

I guess, letting him say a short prayer and leave would be the best bet.

“OK, I still don’t believe you have any power at all, but go ahead.” I said, sure this would scare him off and I could carry on and find Beth in peace.

Peter asked me my name. He then put his hand on my head and mumbled some words that I couldn’t quite make out.

 Then suddenly. Loud.

“Thank you Father.”

 “OK Larry, you now have the gift of healing.”

I looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you feel any different?” Peter said.

“I don’t know” I said. “Now what?”

“You will have to heal somebody”

“He can heal me.” Said a lovely middle aged, blond lady.

 She was standing at the foot of the stairs, and, I gather had heard our entire conversation.

I was in a state of shock. What on earth was I thinking? I truly didn’t believe in these traveling shamans. I considered these people modern day witch doctors, but worse. These people to my mind gave false hope to the suffering, and usually at a stiff price.

How was I to get out of this mess?

“I don’t know what to say.” I whispered to Peter.

“Just place your hand on the person’s head and say “In the name of Jesus be healed.” He whispered back.

We went down the steps toward the lady, I felt like I was in a dream. Why I continued to play this dangerous game I truly do not know.

I looked into the ladies eyes. They were filled with so much hope and love. I felt like hugging her and telling her I had no power and I couldn’t help her. The next thing I knew I was putting my hand on her head.

“In the name of Jesus be healed!” I said.

I don’t know what I was expecting, I believe I was expecting her to say thank you or something and go away, or maybe just go away. That would be the end of this stupidity.

Suddenly the blond ladies eyes seemed to go up into her head and she fell as if dead toward the cement floor. I was frozen with fear and shock, some people screamed and others seemed to be rushing toward us.  A man caught the lady, unfortunately just after her head hit the floor.  I don’t know exactly what happened next.

A crowd had gathered around the fallen woman, and many people were talking, some to me, but I couldn’t make out what was being said.

“That was my best friend.” Said a lady with long back hair. “We came all the way from California to be healed. She has Cancer, thank you. Bless you. Will you now heal me?”

Still in somewhat of a trance, I replied.

“I’m sorry lady I don’t have any power to heal. I don’t really know what happened. I don’t have any power at all. I’m sorry”

“Please, please, don’t make me go home without getting the same as Alice. Please.”

“Larry you have to help her as well.” Said Peter.

To this day I don’t know why I did it, but once again I put my hand on this ladies head.

“In the name of Jesus be healed!” I said again.

By this time there was a considerable crowd gathered around.  Once again the Ladies eyes went up into her head and she crumbled.  But this time several people were ready to catch her. 

I realized this had to stop.

 I didn’t believe in what I was doing, and it was frightening.  These poor people actually believed I was in some way being used by God to heal them. I was still in a fog. Both of the ladies from California gave me their names and address on a card. 

About this time Beth came up.

“I figured you would be in the middle of this noisy group.” She said, never imagining what had just transpired.

I have never tried anything like this again and am sure I never will. 

We have not made any effort to contact the two ladies from California.

Maybe we should I don’t know.

Written by Larry W. Bennett