Revival - Come and Be Healed 15

Wendy went to see her grandmother in hospital.
 “Hello Grandma.”
 “Hello Wendy, how are you?”
 “I’m fine, Grandma. How are you?” Grandma looked down at the oxygen cylinder by her bed and laughed.
 “Oh, how am I? Great. I’m fine apart from having terminal lung cancer.”
 “Grandma, I’ve found Jesus. I’m a Christian.”
 “Good. Joining a church will get you out of the house and you’ll make lots of friends.”
 “I talk to angels, Grandma. I can work miracles.”
 “Can you, dear?”
 “I prayed for this man and he flew across the church as if he’d had an electric shock.”
 “That’s nice, dear.”
 “Could I pray for you?”
 “Of course, dear.” Wendy put her hands on her grandmother’s shoulders.
 “Lungs, in the name of Jesus, be healed, right now. Tumours, in the name of Jesus, be gone, right now.”
 “I can breathe,” said Grandma. “For the first time in years, I can breathe.”
 “Praise the Lord,” said Wendy.

Wendy left the hospital ward and walked around the grounds. The angel appeared.
 “Wendy, visiting time is not over for an hour and a half. Why don’t you heal all the patients in the hospital?” Wendy went back to the cancer ward where her grandmother was. Wendy walked around the ward and placed her hands on each patient. “In the name of Jesus be healed, in the name of Jesus be healed,” she said.
 “That’s Wendy’s granddaughter,” said one of the old ladies, laughing. “She thinks she’s a missionary. Where’s that lump on my skin gone?” On the maternity ward a baby had died. The sister was instructing a student nurse as to what should be done.
 “Let Ann and Joe see the baby, let them hold it. It is their child. It has died.” Wendy laid her hands on the baby.
 “In the name of Jesus –“
 “- Jesus?” Ann interrupted, furiously. “Jesus? What’s he going to do about this? Look love, when you get a bit older, you’ll understand that there isn’t really a God, and he isn’t like Superman, and he doesn’t come down from the sky to rescue people.”
 “He’s moving his eyes,” said Joe. “He’s breathing.”
 “He’s moving his little hands,” said Ann. “Are you sure this baby was dead?”
 “I’ve been a midwife for 30 years,” said the Sister. “That child has never taken a breath since he came into the world two hours ago. We could see him this morning on the ultrasound scanner and he had no heartbeat. He died inside you. I’ve never seen anything like this. I shall have to start doubting my atheism.” In the orthopaedic ward arms and legs snapped, crackled and popped as Wendy walked around laying hands on people. A man with a broken neck suddenly started moving around.
 “I was completely paralysed. Now I’m healed. I don’t believe it. Thank you, little girl.”
 “Don’t thank me, thank Jesus.” A nurse grabbed Wendy’s arm and started shouting and screaming,
 “Get out, get out, get out! If you carry on like this the whole of the NHS will be closed down and we’ll all be out of a job.”
 “That’s the only way the government would ever pay off its deficit,” said one of the other nurses.

That Sunday morning there were thousands of people standing outside Hope Village Community Church.
 “We’ve come to be healed,” said a man with crutches. “Where’s the little girl?”
 “What little girl?” asked Isaac.
 “The one who went to visit her grandmother in Glossop and healed everybody in the whole hospital. I want her to heal my ankles.”
 “Wendy,” called Isaac, and ran into the church. Isaac grabbed a bottle of olive oil from the kitchen. He found Wendy, standing in the main hall with about a hundred other members of the church. “Wendy, quick as you can, anoint every Christian in this hall with a little drop of this oil on their head. There are people outside who want to be healed. They’ve heard what you did at the hospital. There are so many of them. We’re going to have to organise ourselves into a little army.” Wendy took the olive oil and anointed Isaac. Isaac’s hair began to fizzle with Holy Spirit electricity. Then she anointed Jonah, who went flying across the room as if he had an electric shock and landed on top of Stephanie.
 “Sorry,” said Jonah.
 “Don’t apologise,” said Stephanie. “I can feel the power of the Holy Spirit. My arthritis is healed. What I have, I must pass on. I’m anointed to heal.” Stephanie rushed out into the street with Jonah. A man asked Jonah,
 “Can you pray for my –“
 “- Don’t tell me,” said Jonah. “I don’t need to know. If I touch you, or if you touch me, your disease is gone. According to your faith, so be it.” Stephanie began touching the sick people as well, and so did the hundred other Christians who had been in the hall.

The next morning the doctors sat in the surgery at Hope Village.
 “There’s no one here today,” said Dr. Raymond Brown. “There’s no sick people in Hope Village.”
 “Or in any of the villages nearby,” said Dr. Helen Scott. “They all went to church yesterday in Hope Village and got healed.”
 “There’s no sick people in Glossop either,” said Dr. David Jones. “A little girl went into the hospital and healed everyone in sight.”
 “What are we supposed to do?” asked Dr. Helen Scott. “Become vicars? Form a monastery? Do you have a big lump in your throat, Sir, I’ll just pray for you. Abracadabra, it’s gone. Oh sorry, what did you say? You don’t need me to pray for you, the little girl has prayed for you already. God bless that little girl.”

Isaac designed an advert for the Hope Village Community Church website. He would organise an event in Sheffield in Hillsborough Stadium. “Come to Hillsborough and be Healed.” On the website there would be photographs and testimonies from all the people who had been healed in Hope Village. People who had had cancer, blind people, deaf people, people who couldn’t walk had all been healed. Wasn’t there a story in the Bible about Peter touching a cloth and anyone who touched the cloth being healed? Isaac had a brilliant idea. The church would sell anointed cloths. Not for much money, just the cost of VAT, postage and a cheap handkerchief. £5 would be enough. Selling anointed cloths would cause this revival to spread worldwide.

3 months later Isaac was sitting in a magistrate’s court.
 “Mr. Isaac Abramson is charged with selling pharmaceuticals without a licence,” said the magistrate.
 “There is nothing pharmaceutical at all about these products,” said the solicitor. “They are handkerchiefs. They have been prayed for and anointed in oil by people from the church.”
 “It is also an offence to make misleading claims in an advertisement. Mr. Abramson has made some very exaggerated claims about these products. Mr. Abramson’s website claims that an old lady cleaned her glasses with an anointed cloth, put them back on, and her cataracts had gone. It also claims that someone blew his nose on one and was instantly healed of pleurisy. A man was instantly healed of terminal bowel cancer after apparently having run out of toilet paper. A man wiped some crumbs from his mouth with the cloth, and suddenly grew a perfect set of front teeth. He had some missing teeth and had had extreme difficulty talking clearly or biting properly before, even with dentures. A lady polished a church pulpit with her cloth and the next Sunday her pastor preached a sermon and 300 people were saved. I find these stories difficult to believe. Obviously some people believe them. Thousands of people are buying Mr. Abramson’s anointed cloths.”
 “People can make up their own minds whether they believe in God or whether they believe in miracles,” said the solicitor. “Many Christians all over the world believe in miracles and that is a matter of personal faith. All of these stories were contributed by customers of Mr. Abramson’s anointed cloths. The website has a page where they can add their own photograph and their own story. Mr. Abramson did not add any of these stories himself.”
 “Why do the handkerchiefs cost £5?” asked the magistrate.
 “The cloths are sold for a price that is just enough to cover the cost of the handkerchief, postage and VAT. Isaac Abramson and his church do not profit from the sale of these handkerchiefs.”
 “Nevertheless, they are being sold as medical products. Any medical product sold in the European Union needs to be subject to proper clinical trials. There were also coach tickets sold to an event in Sheffield with the message, ‘Come to Sheffield and be Healed.’ Such a claim would also make the coach ticket a medical product.”
 “But these regulations apply to companies selling medicines containing potentially dangerous chemicals. It is ridiculous to apply the same regulations to sale of bus tickets and handkerchiefs that have no pharmaceutical chemicals in them at all.”
 “They are being sold as medical products,” screamed the magistrate. “They are not licensed. Mr. Abramson, I am fining you £8,000 for selling medical products without a license and £5,000 for making misleading statements in an advertisement.” The church website was changed. “There is nothing special about these cloths, they have simply been prayed over by members of the church.” The customers’ testimony page was removed. The Hillsborough page was simply changed to an advertisement inviting people to the event. Once the trial had been in the newspapers, more people became interested. More anointed handkerchiefs were sold, all 35,000 seats in Hillsborough Stadium were filled and with the 50p profit the church made on each coach ticket, the fine was paid.