Recently, I led a retreat with a group of 21st century looking Lazarus types. I divided the 100 men in attendance into small groups of 5 men to do the deeper digging at their hearts—that place where transformation really happens.
I randomly assigned myself to a group of fine looking men, none of which I had ever met before. As I gave the plenary talk to the entire group, I spoke about our need for transformation. I said, “Transformation is at the jugular vein of our desires. Each of us is desperate for it and miserable because of our lack of experiencing it.” In the groups, I asked the men to process that statement I just wrote above.. I was not prepared for their responses.
One of the men, a doctor spoke of his struggle with pornography and how this had nearly ruined his marriage. Another man in his mid-30’s began to share of his addiction to meth and his imprisonment because of it. He said he had lost everything including five years of his life in prison. The man to my right began to say how much he needed transformation because he was in the "transformation business." When I asked him what he meant, he shared that he was a female impersonator and trying to change his old ways. He cried a lot and we had to get extra Kleenex for our group. We went deep—way beyond the surface of the icebergs each of us was bearing in our hearts. The tears seemed to come from the depths of a place where only tears of transformation can come from—the heart.
I sat stunned realizing yet again that appearances can be deceiving. Our little band of men set out into deep water that weekend; talking about what each of us needed most and how shame had seemed to seize our hearts and starve our souls. This was a “high-cotton” church as my father-in-law says. By that he means that the church is probably made up of wealthy folk—people whose lives are cushioned by their wealth and worldly importance.
I guess, I should not be surprised anymore at the stories I hear. I’ve heard enough of them to make me sometimes think there is nothing new under the sun. But as I walked with the meth addict and the female impersonator throughout the weekend I sensed their dire thirst for Jesus Christ. I wanted the change for them. I wanted transformation badly for them. I wanted them to see Jesus doing for them, what they could not do for themselves.
Lazarus teaches us the way. I’m convinced of it.
Steve
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