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 July 28, 2026
Let me start by asking a question: if someone came up to you and asked what's the benefit or blessing of being a Christian, what would you include in your answer? There's the things we might know to say from Sunday School: Jesus loves me, died for me, so I can be forgiven and free. Or something like that. Would it naturally come to your lips to say this: The gift of my faith is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the sorrow or suffering that comes my way, I am reassured and strengthened by the confidence that God does not ignore the unjust lives or deaths of those who stick close to Him? *** This summer I’m taking some time to look at Daniel 11-12 and Book 4 of the Jewish poetic writings I research, the Sibylline Oracles . This post is an observation and an out-loud thought from some of my reading. Again and again, both in Daniel, the Sibyllines, an array of other Jewish literature, and the gospels (as well as elsewhere in the NT—e.g. Mark 8:38-9:1, 10:29-31, John 11:25, 1 Cor 15:16-19, 2 Corinthians 4), resurrection and the post-mortem life appears as an encouragement and response to the problem of human suffering. Not a rationale or justification. It’s not an answer to the question of ‘why does God allow suffering’ in any overt sense. But an end to the story of God’s peoples that shapes how the present might be lived. When I was very young, I thought resurrection was more-or-less a get of jail free card for the crucifixion. Jesus died on a cross to deal with sin and death. But if he isn't raised it's all pointless: so God has to raise him. Resurrection as an after thought, if you will. But resurrection isn't an epilogue. It's the victory. Without it the whole story is pointless. It's a real, substantial, material hope. *** Life is hard work. Life does not always go our way. Even when it does, that way isn't usually what we really wanted anyway! There's the normal hard stuff of life: work, family, friendships, health and so on. Then there's the hard stuff of following God. We are given so much goodness in the gospel: a relationship with God for starters! But also forgiveness, healing, reconciled relationships, a change and liberation of priorities, freedom and new life. All such wonderful and good things. Yet they are all a foretaste. Reconciliation doesn't always happen. We might have an interior freedom but experience hardship after hardship externally. I've been reading the diaries of Etty Hillesum who expereinced just that. She was a young Jewish woman in the 1940s. She experienced such a bliss and joy because of her faith and spirituality that found contentment even in life in a concentration camp. Yet her life ended at the tender age of 29. So much life left to live, so much potential unrealised. *** Resurrection is a reminder and encouragement that our real hope and the true fulfilment of the gospel isn't in the here and now (it begins now, but as a foretaste of what's to come). We aren't to expect ' everything will go my way ' in this life or that I should experience the perennial blessing of God in my earthly life and relationships. Following God will not be easy. The things He calls us to do may not succeed. The people we love may not love us back. The person we pray for may never come to faith. The change we want to see manifest in the world around us may not happen in this life. But resurrection says this: God has not forgotten. God sees it all. God will set right. Unjust deaths will be dealt with. Unfair hardship will be set straight. This life is not all there is. There is so much more to come, that all of this--even the heart-breaking stuff—will pale in significance in comparison. Yes, that doesn't stop it hurting in the present moment. It doesn't stop grief or stem the tide of darkness today. But it allows us to let go. Surrender. Trust. None of this has to be fixed now. We do what we can. But the outcome of it all is not one realised in this life, but the next. So take courage. There is more to come. ******
By Suse McBay June 24, 2026
Peter Murrell, a Scottish political worker and now ex-husband of Nicola Sturgeon (former SNP party leader), was this week sentenced to 5 years in prison for embezzlement. Over the years he had used party money to buy all manner of things. It began with a Play Station 3 but escalated, to buying silver wine coaster, a Jaguar, and a motor home (the list goes on and on). Now embezzlement is not new. Nor is using political office for personal gain. But what struck me were the comments from the lawyer following the sentencing: “ The accused is now an individual overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and shame .” Shame. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but I wonder how you respond to hearing such contrition? Responses can range from the judgemental (“ Good! He deserves it ”) to the overly sympathetic (“ Perhaps he’s learned his lesson ”). But regardless of where we individually fall on the sympathy scale, it was an interesting example of what I’ve been thinking about recently: healthy shame . Mr Murrell has undeniably done something wrong and has betrayed the office given to him. He’s estranged from his wife. He’s headed to prison. He was there to represent the people, but instead, he has preyed on the sheep (Ezek. 34:2 has things to say about this). That uncomfortable feeling of recognising where we have transgressed our limits and have become hoodwinked by our own hubris and entitlement. His inadequacies have been publicly exposed. His dirty laundry is out in public. We may be more accustomed to scandal given the internet age, so we may be desensitised to it, but I bet Peter Murrell is not. When it happens to you, it’s painful. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exposing. I’m no psychologist, so I’d recommend John Bradshaw’s book on Healing the Shame That Binds You , if you want to think more about it. Dan Allender and Tremper Longman have a good Christian reflection on different emotions in Cry of the Soul. But I’ve been noticing where healthy shame appears in Scripture. Shame crops up again and again and again. I’m still in the early stages of thinking about where it appears and why, but one clear example of where it occurs is in scenes of divine judgement, both those in the present and those yet to come. God’s People Exposed (1) Daniel 12:1-4 talks about how Jewish believers in the 2 nd century BCE would be raised. The wise and understanding ones who didn’t comply with the political schemes of Antiochus IV would be raised to shine like stars. The others? Those who had aligned themselves with the emperor and in the process forsaken their covenant loyalty to God? They would be faced with everlasting shame (and contempt). (2) Jeremiah 2 has strong words for God’s people of Israel who have got so wrapped up in themselves they have stopped seeking where God is at work and instead are playing with other idols under the illusion of thinking they’re faithful because they keep the Law. They even say they don’t run after false gods (v.23). They’ve tried to seek out gain from the political powers (v.18) rather than humbly submit themselves to God (v.20). The result? They will be put to shame by Egypt (v.36). In an eerily similar statement to the news from Scotland: “As a thief is shamed when caught, So the house of Israel shall be shamed: They, their kings, their officials, Their priests, and their prophets.” (Jer 2:26) And the same is true in the New Testament. Mark 8:38 says this: "Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." I suspect these are words for people who don’t listen to Jesus’ words in the preceding lines: the message that to follow Jesus is to take up your cross, deny yourself. Surrender your own wants and desires. Those who, like Peter, wanted to avoid death. Avoid suffering. Avoid hardship. Those who wanted a Messiah that came on a horse not a donkey. One who wore a crown of gold, not one of thorns. ** So what a bout us? How do we avoid that fate? Well, like a bill that if you don’t pay now you’ll be paying a lot more later, we need to start facing our inner shame today. Both the healthy shame and the shame we’ve been given that doesn’t belong to us. We might take some time to pray, be still, listen. See what comes up when we think about our uncomfortable feelings that usually stay in the shadows. The great gift of shame is that it shows us our limits. Where we’ve crossed the line and harmed ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. Where we’ve tried to be more than human (or acted in fear that we’re less than human). But shame also dies on exposure. Though I’d also add that shame dies on exposure in the presence of a loving other. We find a person or a group where we can start doing the crazy thing and actually revealing our shameful selves to others. Peter Murrell is full of shame, his lawyer says. The question is: what will he do with it? Will he use this public humiliation to face himself as he is? Does he have people around him to listen to him and to help him through it? I hope so. Genuinely. I hope that for all of us. That we would have the courage to allow the One who is Light to bring light into the midst of our shame today. To bring us out of hiding. Shame is a horrible feeling: I’m not a fan. But I do know that on the other side is acceptance, serenity, and a joy that really does make it worth it. It is true freedom—and it’s only in that freedom I can become who God has made me to be. Because whatever I’ve done, however humiliating, the deepest truth of all is that I’m made in the image of God. I am loved. ****** Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

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