A Real Life Parable: Norman Baker, the Crescent Hotel & Matthew 16

October 12, 2023

Stephen and I went on a road-trip this September and visited Eureka Springs, AK. While there we toured the 1886 Crescent Hotel & Spa and heard the story of Norman G. Baker.

Norman Baker was born in 1882 and was part entrepreneur, part salesman and, well, part swindler. There’s a lot to his story but, as I understand it, he founded a hospital in Kansas that would treat cancer and other ailments, but eventually he was ousted as a fraud. Undeterred, and highly critical of the medical profession, he continued his exploitative methods and in 1937 bought the resort hotel that was the 1886 Crescent Hotel & Spa in Eureka Springs.


This luxury hotel served as an alluring backdrop and context in which to be treated for cancer. Come and experience 5 star accommodation! Experience exquisite dining, state of the art leisure activities (moving pictures!) and the famed healing springs of northern Arkansas.


The sales pitch was simple. The cancer treatment of the day was crude and the use of radium would leave people with deformities and severe burns. Unlike the physical damage from such medical treatments, Baker offered a winsome alternative: pain-free cancer treatment! Where the medical professionals might hurt you more than you heal—come to the Crescent Hotel and receive Baker’s pain-free tonic while at the spa. For the sum of $5,000 you could go on vacation and be treated for a terrible disease.


Could it get any better than that?


There was one major problem though, Baker was a fraud. The cure sounded wonderfully attractive. But his tonic did not do what he said it would do. It was a mix of random ingredients (watermelon seeds, cloves and other oddities). While Baker touted that he was in the business of life, in truth he was in the business of death.


If you got to the Crescent Hotel & Spa today you can go and see what was a very active and busy department of his hospital: the morgue.


In truth, patients left the hotel not through the front doors but through the basement after an autopsy. And it gets more gruesome still with Baker touting “proofs” of his success with the tumors he would cut out of their bodies and keep after they’d succumbed to their illness.


***


Seeing the hotel, the morgue and this particular story was like stepping into a real world (albeit extreme) example of Jesus’ words to his disciples in Matthew 16;24-26:


"If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?"


It is so easy to be drawn in by things that appeal to our desire for creature comforts. A nice hotel, a fine restaurant. Grandeur. Beauty commoditized and sold. You want the world? We have it! Come buy it here! We all want an escape from the hard things in life. Pain is what it is: painful. Who wouldn’t want to say yes to a cure for the ills of life with something that that promises not to leave you bruised and battered?


It would be wonderful to be able to not hurt when bad things happen. Not weep when tragedy occurs. Not be angered at injustice. Not be disappointed when things hoped for do not come to pass. Not grieve when people we love die. Often we’re pretty good at pushing the harder feelings away, but they are never truly gone.


***


Norman Baker preyed on people’s desire for an easy way out. A short-cut. It seemed too good to be true because it was too good to be true.


Jesus is clear: if you want to save your life it means losing it. It means taking up your cross. It means facing your suffering. It means grieving. It means having your heart turned from stone back into a heart of flesh, one that aches and longs for more of the goodness of God.


One way leads to life. The other leads to the morgue.


There’s no pain-free way to deal with our spiritual sickness. Yes forgiveness is a free gift, but the work of living into it and becoming like Christ means facing the reality of our lives. If we think we're doing just great, perhaps we’re just at the spiritual equivalent of the 1886 Crescent Hotel & Spa. Facing our spiritual condition is not a matter of making sure we receive the bread and wine every week as though downing a tonic that will fix us. 1 Corinthians 11 says the opposite and warns of the danger of receiving without paying attention to our own lives: “Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup” (v.26).


***


I remember once doing some spiritual work that involved reflecting on my own character flaws. I thought I knew what mine were and that although it would be uncomfortable, I was pretty self-aware so I there wouldn't be any major surprises. But, as I began to read a little book on the topic, my eyes were opened. The blindness started to fall away. It was painful. It was eye-opening. It showed me some of the hard graft I needed to do, to acknowledge, own and ask for God’s help with these things. It involved some tears of confession as I shared with trusted friends the truth of my motives and intentions in some of my actions. By God's grace much has changed, but with God's grace much more change is to come as well.


It is not easy to clean up our side of the street. It takes persistent, consistent effort and willingness. It takes a willingness to trust God loves us more than we have loved ourselves or those around us. It takes a willingness to surrender our ways over for His. It takes a willingness to lay down our lives.


But in return?


In return we know the new life and love and new creation made possible through the resurrection of Jesus. We die, so He can live—and by it we really do come to know life in all its abundance.


******


By Suse McBay May 29, 2025
****** “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” I’m not sure if it’s true, but George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, is credited as popularizing a big change in film production: not having opening credits. Instead of old Westerns and black and white films that began by naming the director, producer, key stars and so on, Lucas began the Star Wars films with the very famous line: “ A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away .” And then came the opening “crawl” that sets up the viewer for the story to come: "It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire..." And so it sets up the story of Luke, Leia and Han Solo. Well, I want to suggest this morning that here in Acts 1 we have the opening words and “crawl” to the Book as a whole. And what sets the scene? Jesus’ ascension. *** In Acts 1, Luke recaps from where his gospel left off in Luke 24, with similar talk of the spread of gospel to the ends of the earth, that his disciples will be his witnesses, and his instruction to wait for the promise of God to come that is His Spirit, as well as, of course, Jesus’ ascent into heaven. But the Acts version has a specific focus: repeatedly mention the watching and looking of the disciples, the taking and lifting up of Jesus and the repeated mention of his destination: heaven. So why this attention in Acts' “opening crawl”? How does this set the scene for the story of the church that is told in Acts and continues today? Well, in contrast to the first victory in the opening of Star Wars, perhaps preparing for more victories to come, the Ascension grounds us in the defining, cosmic-shaping victory of Jesus that began with his resurrection and conlcudes with his exaltation in the spiritual world. Echoing Daniel 7, Jesus is taken up on a cloud, the chariot of the warrior-God, and is now enthroned to rule in heaven. The work of the church is done in light of this all-encompassing victory that has already been won. Christ is already King. But it’s not only that. Often we talk about Jesus’ ascension from a human perspective: his physical departure from earth. Here the disciples see for themselves Jesus’ exaltation and the opening of heaven: they are gripped by it. Through Christ’s entrance into and rule in heaven, he is made more readily available to us on earth. T he work of the church is done by living in a new space that recognises this opening of heaven: consider God’s promised Holy Spirit who comes in Acts 2, how angels appear here and throughout Acts, as well as people being healed, delivered from evil spirits, miracles taking place and people coming to faith . The spiritual realm is breaking in. So, this Thursday of 5th week, with deadlines, looming exams and soon-to-come ordinations: where will we look? Will we stare upwards and wonder where Jesus went? Or will we look outwards, and live in the light of the one who rules the heavens and has opened heaven to us, and for whom we wait to rule the earth as well? ******
By Suse McBay May 13, 2025
*** True Colours I was in a situation a few years ago where someone I trusted and expected to act in a certain way didn’t do so. In fact, they did they did the opposite. It hurt. It hurt because there were consequences that affected me, but it also hurt because I thought I knew the person, that I knew how’d they’d respond to pressure. When the rubber hits the road and things get real. Instead, their true colours emerged, and I was wrong. Who I thought this person was, and who they told me they were, was in reality quite different from who they actually proved themselves to be . The specifics aren’t for posting online, but I’m sure you can relate. Most of us can recall some kind of experience of someone we love, someone whose character we trust, letting us down. Someone who you might have believed in—maybe even defended to other people—choosing to do something that shows they weren’t worthy of that trust. Showing that your assessment of them was, essentially, quite different from the reality of who they are. They lacked integrity. Esther’s Example This term at Wycliffe, my colleague John is teaching his way through the book of Esther for the Bible expositions in chapel. Now the book of Esther famously doesn’t even mention God: so what is its purpose? Well, in part (as my colleague has been discussing), it’s a book about wisdom. Will we learn from the wise in the story: Esther (and Mordecai)? Will learn from the foolish: King Ahasuerus? The wicked: Haman? At the start of the book, Esther is a young, timid woman, who’d been through a lot. She was orphan and had been raised by her uncle. But she shows willingness and some social savviness and does what Mordecai tells her to do. By the end of the book she’s bold and courageous. Yes, she knows how to play the political game, but she does so in order to stand up for her people who are being persecuted by Persian imperial policy. She exposes Haman’s duplicitousness. Esther has a remarkable integrity and commitment to who she is and what she values. She is willing to risk her life to stand up for what is right, even knowing the cost. She has integrity. Her insides match her outsides as her character develops through the book. When We Fail Stephen and I go to a large Anglican church in the centre of Oxford. A couple of weeks ago, we had a visiting preacher (who is also a poet and philosopher) preaching about baptism. In the course of his sermon, he reminded us that who we really are is who we are when no-one is watching. And that Jesus died for us, knowing exactly what we do when the curtains are closed and no-one can see us. Again, it speaks to integrity—and that Jesus has come to deal with it. If everyone else thinks I’m a model Christian, but at home, by myself, I’m angry, compulsive, critical, selfish or greedy, the latter is a far more honest assessment of who I am and needs some spiritual help. It exposes a lack of integrity: I have an exterior self who looks one way, but an interior self (that I hide away) that looks quite another. What will happen when the pressure is on? That interior self will come out, one way or another. The good news is Jesus went to the Cross, even for that interior self. And with his help I can be forgiven, heal and become whole. That’s in part what baptism symbolises: me dying to all that ugliness and ungodliness. Naming it, owing it and leaving it with Jesus at the Cross, and then rising to a new life that where my insides match my outsides. A person of integrity. Learn from the Wise: Daniel 11-12 But what of the original situation: when others we trusted in and believed in have let us down? I’ve been teaching my way through the book of Daniel and its been fascinating to muse on this topic. Daniel 7-12 describe a series of visionary experiences that give God’s perspective on the political problems and extreme religious oppression that led to the Maccabean revolt in the 160s BC. These were largely due to the decisions of the Antiochus IV who was on the throne of the Hellenistic empire, a Greek of Seleucid descent. You can read about Antiochus IV in 1 and 2 Maccabees, but the snapshot version is that he installed puppet high priests in the Temple at Jerusalem, looted it for money to fuel his military campaigns, outlawed the Torah (including Sabbath observance and circumcision) and, most egregiously, desecrated the Temple with pig sacrifices and an altar to Zeus. These orders resulted in many faithful Jews having to try and keep Torah secretly. When discovered, those who had done so were public shamed and then executed (e.g. 2 Macc 6:10). It was miserable existence (2 Macc 6:9). Antiochus IV’s diabolical political rule was one thing, but the book of Daniel also wrestles with this: what do we do when our religious leaders let us down? When their outsides don’t match their insides? When we discover they are white-washed tombs (Matt 23:27)? The high priest and many other religious establishment figures were swayed by Antiochus IV at the expense of their loyalty to the Lord Most High. Daniel 11 and 12 in particular speak to this situation. Daniel 11:32 says that Antiochus will “seduce with intrigue those who violate the covenant” in contrast to “the people who are loyal to their God.” A few verses later we learn why: “Those who acknowledge him [Antiochus] he shall make more wealthy, and shall appoint them as rulers over many, and shall distribute the land for a price” (v.39). Antiochus used his power and means to get what he wanted, and those who showed more fidelity to him than to the God of Israel, got to share in that wealth themselves. So, what is Daniel’s answer to when the stewards of God’s covenant and teachers of God’s law reveal their true colours? When their words and who they’ve said they are don’t match up with who they have shown themselves to be? When those around us lack integrity, what are we to do? Well, it’s not to keep hanging on and believing in religious leaders who have proven themselves to be corrupted by political power (they are destined for shame and contempt, Dan 12:2). Daniel’s suggestion is to fix our eyes elsewhere instead: “ The wise among the people shall give understanding to many; for some days, however, they shall fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and plunder. ” (Daniel 11:33) Look to the wise. Look to those with understanding. Come to understand for yourselves. But this is not an easy answer. For these are the folk that get into trouble. Who perish by the sword. They don’t look like winners. This is perhaps why Daniel’s own response to the visions is one of weakness, fear and trembling. To understand and see reality for what it is can be deeply disturbing. In Daniel, understanding revolves around knowing God is God of all and all kings should have limits to their power. Even when kings like Antiochus IV trample on what is sacred, and transgress into the holy of holies—divine space—God through his angels is contending with powers beyond human ones and will bring all to judgement. But the waiting in the meantime will not be easy or pain-free. That’s why the promise of resurrection is so important in Daniel 12: it’s reassurance for the faithful—for the wise—to keep going. It is they who will be raised and will be like angels: "Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever." (Dan. 12:3) When those we’ve trusted and believed in fail us, God is at work. There may not be easy answers, and sitting with the reality of betrayal is painful, but God is not done yet. Sometimes what is happening is part of a much bigger, cosmic picture and God will intervene. Others’ words and actions may not line up, but ours can. Our insides can match our outsides and our words match our actions. With God’s help we too can become “ people who are loyal to their God ,” those who “ shall stand firm and take action. ” (Dan. 11:32) ****** Cover picture: John Everett Millais, Esther, 1863–65, Oil on canvas, 77.4 x 106 cm, Private Collection

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