“We are not frauds.” Offended, Susannah’s eyes grew steely. “My goodness, Buck, what do you take me for? We don’t have to promise them anything, just pray with them and be in the moment, as they ask for God’s help. This is what I mean, Buck. You’re always doubting me—”
Buck threw his hands up. “Because I don’t see how it can work. People are coming to us, but we can’t heal anybody or make them well! Eavesdropping on their problems to benefit them is one thing, but beyond that, there is nothing we can do for a lot of them—”
“Stop! Please stop arguing, both of you.” Ray’s strong and forceful voice filled the room.
Caught off guard, Buck and Susannah stopped talking and looked at Ray’s reddening face.
“I think we’re starting to cross the line here.” Ray grimaced. “Buck has a good point. What are we going to do when we fail someone? Aren’t we setting ourselves up for legal action or worse?”
Susannah’s demeanor changed as though a switch had flipped. She reached out a hand, softly patting Ray on his forearm. “Ray, sweetheart, we’re not going to guarantee that they’ll recover. I’d be a fool to think we could do that. Focus on Jesus as healer and you as the instrument. What’s the harm in trying that approach once?” Her voice was seductively soft; and from his vantage point, Buck could see Ray already starting to waver.
Ray put his hand over hers. “If we focus on the fact that Christ was a healer and cast out demons, I can see that. But I will not get up before this congregation and demand some poor disabled soul get up out of a wheelchair and walk. I’d feel like a carnival huckster.”
“It’s compassion that I’m referring to.” She smiled. “We always connect our message to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who was compassionate toward the outcasts and the sick.”
“Are you gentlemen all right with that?” Ray asked, his gaze settling on Buck and Jeff’s silent faces.
Buck fidgeted. “I’m not wild about the idea, but I’ll give it one time. There are numerous Bible readings showing Jesus as a healer; if you fit the message into a sermon, I can live with it—one time.”
“Jeff?”
His muscular arms folded across a solid chest. “Yeah, I guess I’m in.”
Ray’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. “While that approach has had success, it needs to be subtle. I can’t guarantee anything,” he said, squeezing Susannah’s hand. “We seek out individuals with ailments who have a genuine chance at getting better. But as with Jim Jameson, they should be an active part of the process, willing to make lifestyle changes.”
“Right.” Susannah beamed. “We’re taking one small step at a time.”
SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 23, 2003 ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI THE ROAD TO CALVARY SET
Buck hadn’t expected things to move along this quickly. Pretending to heal a parishioner, even if backed up with suggestions for how to improve their lives, still made him uncomfortable. There were risks, and he wanted a longer interval to iron out the details. Instead, during rehearsals, Ray informed him that he’d written a sermon focusing on genuine healing.
The money is coming in a steady stream, and regulars are starting to make larger donations, Buck reminded himself. Ruth Perkins donated $10,000 after Ray inquired again on the progress of solving her family difficulties, promising to pray for them. One thing’s for sure, the individualized touch of Ray answering those requests is paying off.
Buck brought himself back to the task at hand, skimming through the congregation for potential healing candidates. One of the concessions Susannah had made was Ray would not pick out an audience member on every single broadcast, giving the timing of healings more mystery and a sense of divine intervention. And, Buck mused dryly, it kept viewers watching. The conversation of an elderly woman with a cane being assisted down the aisle by a younger man, who appeared to be her son, caught his attention as their voices crackled through his headphones.
“Oh, this knee is killing me. I can still barely walk. I thought you said a knee replacement would fix everything, Paul.”
“Mom, you need to keep doing your exercises. You had surgery less than three months ago.”
“When you’re old, Paul Schaffer, you’ll see what pain really is!” the woman replied crossly.
The agitated middle-aged man with thinning hair guided his mother to the front row.
Ray stood at the pulpit, perspiring. Watching him, Buck knew this was highly unusual, but he also realized Ray’s next words would put a lot at stake, perhaps even The Road to Calvary’s future.
“The Bible says that Jesus Christ is a healer—casting out demons, healing the sick, bringing Lazarus back from the dead. Jesus performed these healing miracles, just as he can perform them here today.”
That was Buck’s cue. “Okay, Ray,” he whispered into the earpiece. “The heavy-set woman in the front row with the cane had knee surgery three months ago but is still in pain. She’s sitting with her son, Paul. Last name is Schaffer.”
Ray locked eyes with the old woman. “Mrs. Schaffer, I understand you’re recovering from knee surgery. May the healing power of the Lord come upon you to relieve you of your knee pain, so that you might walk freely once more!” he thundered.
Mrs. Schaffer did nothing but stare back at Ray in dazed silence.
“My God,” Buck muttered. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“Mom, the reverend’s talking to you. Stand up!” Paul implored.
Ray thrust out his hand to her, and Mrs. Schaffer rose from her seat, leaving her cane, and walked to meet him at the stage.
The audience held its collective breath as Mrs. Schaffer turned toward them. “These are the first steps I’ve taken on my own in months!” she explained. “Glory be to our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“The Bible says to pray for divine healing!” Ray said, taking her hand. “Keep doing physical therapy, and the Lord will continue to help you heal.”
Buck sighed in relief, and his fist punched the air in victory. That wasn’t a total lie; he could live with that. Then his attention was diverted by another voice from the audience.
“Reverend Ray, I feel the power of the Lord upon me! He commands me to rise from this wheelchair prison and walk!”
On the monitor, Buck could see Ray struggle to keep his mouth from falling open. A younger woman wearing braids rose from her chair and met him and Mrs. Schaffer at the end of the aisle.
“Praise be to our Lord and Savior!” Ray said, clasping both women’s hands and raising them heavenward. “God has a purpose for each of you in life, which you can accomplish with divine healing!” Ray brought them up onto the stage. “You ladies have shown God’s power at work in the flesh. What are your names?”
He handed the microphone to the second woman, who spoke in a strong, clear voice. “Hallelujah! I am Dolores Reid, and I thank the Lord and the Reverend Ray for this glorious day!”
Passing the microphone to Mrs. Schaffer, Ray could see that she was almost embarrassed at having to announce her great fortune. “Hello. My name is Rose Schaffer, and I too thank the Almighty God for ending this awful pain.”