Part I – The Death

“Then Jesus said to them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, that you may believe. Nevertheless let us go to him.” John 11:12-13

It was an early Sunday morning in August of 2009 at the “Old” Church building. A small group of men gathered together once more to pray. Our hearts were united – set on pursuing and seeking a deeper, more relational and powerful prayer experience. Each time we gathered we would testify that God shows up and it is always “good”. On some occasions, though, God’s Spirit shows up with something unique and fresh – giving us a taste what God has in store slightly beyond the level our meager faith will allow.

The group met in the church’s makeshift “prayer room” – one third of a meeting room known as “The Lounge” that could be split into 3 smaller meeting areas. This day the full room was opened up. No one else was there but our small group of about 8 gathered in the dedicated prayer space.

We quietly settled in with the worship prelude from the early service drifting in adding to the peaceful atmosphere. No rush to engage as we set our minds on God and let the cares we carried in slip away.

One of us eventually began our worshipful invitation to the Holy Spirit and we all attested to His growing presence amongst us. At some point we began to share what God was putting on our hearts and minds concerning the desires we share for His kingdom – God’s designs for our vision for the new church – awakenings, revival and do we dare say, “miracles?” – sharing our spiritual hopes and dreams until at one point the spiritual sage of the group, Dr. Wayne Detzler, shared a deep desire he has held for all of his 50 years in ministry. His voice quivered with emotion as he said,“One day, I long to see someone actually raised from the dead!”

Wow! I must admit that I literally rolled my eyes thinking that this was way beyond what we could ever expect God to do based on my own faith-limits and based upon this groups experience. We all somberly nodded our heads and continued praying for a few more minutes before our peacefulness was completely shattered.

Boom! A door into the lounge burst open and loud, anxious voices were suddenly calling out directions. We snapped our heads around while opening our eyes to see a group of men all dressed in suits at the other end of the lounge struggling to carry something heavy into the room. We stood up and looked at one another stunned. What is going on?

The men in suites cleared an area in the center of the Lounge and there they laid down another man in a suite on the floor. The face was ashen and still. Amongst the anxious commotion, there was no movement. We looked at one another and one of us whispered, “It’s Carl Benson.”

Others rushed in – a woman who is a nurse and then several men from the congregation who are doctors entered. They began to feverishly work on reviving Carl using CPR.

The prayer group stood there stunned. I looked around and I sensed we were all sharing the same feeling like we should be doing something but we couldn’t move. Amazing as it sounds, it wasn’t until one of our group called out, “Let’s pray!” that we started to pray. We all fell to out knees and began feverishly but quietly intervening for Carl’s life.

While we prayed, a misguided “Martha” concerned more for Carl’s privacy, came over to try to close the wall between the life-and-death struggle and us. We asserted, “No, please, leave it open so we can pray.” The person relented and we continued to pray.

A portable defibrillator, which had only recently been purchased and installed was found and brought into the room. The doctor began to shock Carl’s heart to revive him. With my eyes closed I heard a buzzing – then a beeping – then the call, “Clear” – and then that sound ‘Pumf’. Carl didn’t respond. They repeated the process again; buzzing – beeping – “Clear” – Pumf. Nothing. They repeated it several more times with a growing level of concern – even panic. Things were not going well.

The urgency of our prayers ramped up as some of us began to pray more vocally. I cannot speak for the others but my prayers while this struggle continued went something like this; I prayed for God to come and intervene, to come and revive Carl, to keep him alive.

Then as the anxious words of the medical team sounded more like surrender I thought, “He’s gone!” I cringed with resignation. It’s over.

The realization that Carl Benson was dead was sinking in. The dark sadness began to take hold.

Jesus’ death on the cross was not the end. The Disciples were certain it was all over but there was the “rest of the story” to come on Easter Sunday.

Was this the end for Carl Benson? Find out the “rest of the story” on my blog post this Easter Sunday.