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DOES HEAVEN EVER PANIC? #3

THE STRANDED CLIMBER

One of the great mountaineering giants, a legend on Everest, was just 800 feet away . . . and yet beyond help.  And the two Sherpas, Lhakpa Tsering and Ang Dorje, had to admit that in this crisis, they were powerless to save their leader.

We’ve mentioned bits and pieces of this story before, told in several books now, including Jon Krakauer’s bestseller, Into Thin Air and the National Geographic Society’s gripping new volume, Everest: Mountain Without Mercy.  And the tallest peak in the world truly was without mercy on May 10 and 11 of 1996 as a deadly storm blew in and killed five people.  Rob Hall, the vastly experienced and capable team leader of Adventure Consultants, one of the commercial expeditions heading up the mountain, had stayed way too late at the summit, helping a client get to the top.  Now, a day later, he was stranded at the South Summit.  He’d already survived one night with hundred-below-zero temperatures and fierce winds.  But there was no way he could live through a second night.

And so these two brave Sherpas, already exhausted and hypoxic (oxygen-starved) from their own climb, responded to the crisis.  They headed back up the mountain hoping to rescue the leader they so admired and loved.

And so they finally got to that point where they knew Rob Hall was just 800 feet away.  Eight hundred feet!  But in this screaming hurricane wind, they were almost leaning into an impenetrable wall.  They were near collapse; their muscles shot beyond any further effort.  It was horrifically cold up there, and they simply could . . . not . . . go . . . on.  They were human men and this was a superhuman requirement.  Finally, leaving a ski pole and an extra oxygen canister to mark the spot, they turned around, tears streaming down their cheeks.  When they returned to Camp Four, still very dangerously exposed at 26,000 feet, and told the others of their failure, the entire group collapsed in grief.  They knew that was the end for Hall, and that he would be dead by the next morning.  Which, as many of you know, is exactly how the tragedy ended. 

So often when we end up in a panic, or when a crisis hits, we are agonizingly limited by our humanity.  Someone’s in serious trouble — and they’re just 800 feet away!  They’re so close; can’t we rescue them?  But the high winds are there, the freezing temperatures.  In the Everest tragedy, some of the best climbers in the world, the elite of the elite, were down at Camp Three, just 4,000 vertical feet below Rob.  And yet in this crisis they were totally helpless.  They held this little two-way radio transmitter in their hands, knowing they had to say goodbye to their friend.  And they burst into tears, every one of them, crushed by sorrow and their human helplessness in this panic situation.  So near and yet so far.

This week we’ve asked a very related question: DOES GOD EVER PANIC?  Do sudden storms disrupt His plans too?  Does the avalanche of Lucifer’s campaign sweep over God unexpectedly and leave thousands, even millions, even billions, beyond His power to rescue?  Does God sometimes look up a jagged mountain and know that a lost sinner is just 800 feet away, and yet weep because He’s not able to rescue?

We’ve been putting a Bible word in bright lights these past two days, and it deserves a third mention, I think.  The word is “sovereign.”  Friend, our Lord is sovereign; He’s all-powerful.  He’s unstoppable.  He’s unhampered in His intentions.  No rescue is beyond Him; no crisis is too great.  No situation on our planet or in His universe ever causes Him panic.  Not once, not ever.

There’s a little story — actually, one of the biggest ever told — in the book of Luke, chapter one.  An angel comes to a young woman named Mary, and tells her she’s going to have a baby.  And of course, we know the whole story as we head now into December.  “You will call His name Jesus, and He will be the Son of the Most High.”  And so forth.  And maybe you remember the response of this very dedicated young girl.  She basically protests: “But this is impossible!”  “How can this be,” says one version, “since I am a virgin?”

And you know, from a human perspective, we are indeed hearing about an impossibility.  A virgin cannot have a baby, and we all know that.  Now, maybe this isn’t a crisis or a panic moment, but it certainly is a scientific dilemma.  This young girl is to be the mother of Jesus, but she’s a virgin. 

Notice what the angel says to her:

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.  So the holy One to be born will be called the Son of God.”  And then the angel hits her with a second headline: “Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month.” Now, friend, notice with me these next six words as they relate to crises and panic attacks.  “FOR NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD.”

Now let me just amplify on those six words.  “For nothing is impossible with God.”  This girl, Mary, is a virgin.  For God, that is absolutely not a problem.  Elizabeth, her cousin, was an old, old, old lady, well past child-bearing years.  For God, not a problem.  I once heard a preacher suggest that God could cause Mary to have a baby; He could make Elizabeth have a baby; He could even have made Joseph have that baby!  After all, God was even able to cause Adam and Eve to be here without anybody having a baby!  Friend, the things that are problems for us are simply not problems for God.  Those 800 feet of impassable Everest trails, the wind and the snow that daunt us and drive us back, are just not factors to heaven.

And all through the ministry of Jesus Christ on this earth, we see evidence that the word “crisis” simply does not have meaning to our all-powerful God.  In the book of John, chapter 11, is a well-known story where a dear friend of Jesus’, named Lazarus, was deathly ill.  Now for you or for me, that is a crisis of huge proportions!  Things were very, very urgent; this good friend was at death’s door.  And when the message came from Lazarus’ sisters, the word “urgent” was certainly stamped on the telegram.  “Jesus, please!  Come right this minute!” 

Now, in a story like this, what are the elements that spell “crisis” to humans?  Well, obviously, time.  You rush quickly to the bedside.  Every second counts.  You try to get treatment available immediately; you hit the “Code Blue” button and quickly pump the dying man with antibiotics.  Maybe medical talent and money are also parts of the crisis; can you afford treatment?  Are the best doctors in the world going to be good enough?

But notice that Jesus Christ doesn’t act as if this is a crisis situation . . . on any of these levels.  He doesn’t seem to worry about medicine or about doctors.  And He doesn’t even rush.  In fact, it almost appears as if he’s dawdling.  He relaxes on the other side of the Jordan, almost puttering around, for another two whole days.  Meanwhile the friends and relatives and disciples are muttering to themselves, “Come on come on come on!  Let’s get a move on.  Let’s turn on the red siren.  Jesus, let’s use Your magical powers to go a bit faster here.” 

And by the time Jesus moseys on over to Bethany, absolutely not rushing at all, and stopping for lunch breaks every three hours, His good friend Lazarus has been in the grave for four days.  And everyone involved in His entourage had to be thinking, and maybe even saying out loud, “Jesus, You blew it!  This was a crisis!  This was important!  And You didn’t respond like it was a crisis or a panic.  And now You’re too late.” 

But of course, we all know the end to the story, don’t we?  There was no crisis here at all, friend, because the Redeemer of this world can wake up a dead person just as easily as you can raise your own kid in the morning after a good night of sleep.  In fact, maybe even easier!

Back in Luke chapter eight, Jesus is walking to the house of a man named Jairus whose little girl is very sick.  And maybe Jesus walks too slow for him too, and he tries to prod Jesus along.  “Can we step on it here?  This is my precious baby, my girl!”  And then comes news: “Forget it; the kid’s dead.”

Now, if that were you or me heading to the sickhouse with our ambulance and our IVs and our heart-shock defibrillators, what would we do with news like that?  We’d do a U-turn, wouldn’t we?  The crisis is over; we go back home.

But Jesus doesn’t do a U-turn at all.  He doesn’t slow down, He doesn’t speed up, He just keeps on going. Because to Jesus Christ, death is not a crisis; it’s just one more sleeping little lamb He’s about to wake up.  For Him it’s just that easy.

Listen, friend.  There may be an ocean of crises in front of you.  You’re about to give up.  Have you forgotten that Jesus can walk on water?  Maybe you’re sick and the doctors don’t know what to do.  Have you forgotten that Jesus is the Great Healer?  Maybe you’re lost at the peak of Everest and no one is coming to rescue you.  Your friends are just 800 heartbreaking feet away but they can’t get through.  The wind and the snow are just too fierce.  Have you forgotten that on Galilee Jesus Christ commanded the wind and the waves and they obeyed Him?  There simply is not — let me repeat, IS NOT — EVER a crisis for our SOVEREIGN Lord and Friend named Jesus.