Alabaster House, Bethel Church's Prayer House, Always OpenBethel Church in Redding, CA calls their prayer house Alabaster House, referring to the alabaster vial of perfume poured out over Jesus' head in (I'm fairly sure the following is the particular Scripture to which they refer; someone please let me know if I'm misremembering; that little monument is one of the things I forgot to photograph) Mark 14:3-6 (here in NAS):
3 While He was in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper,
and reclining at the table, there came a woman with an
alabaster vial of very costly perfume of pure nard; and she
broke the vial and poured it over His head.
4 But some were indignantly remarking to one another,
"Why has this perfume been wasted?
5 For this perfume might have been sold for over three
hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor." And
they were scolding her.
6 But Jesus said, "Let her alone; why do you bother her?
She has done a good deed to Me."
In the same way, when we bring our gifts of worship, prayer, and service to Him, we encourage each other to pour out our most precious gifts unto Him, and if someone wants to call that "waste," then great, let's "waste" the heck out of the best of all we have in offering it to Him!
Knowing that Bethel had a prayer house that was always open was a key factor in my deciding to actually head all the way out to California and go there. Pastor Bill Johnson, I think, once jokingly referred to Bethel as becoming like a "Denny's®: Always Open" when they first started leaving the prayer house open 24 hours. (However, as Alabaster House is overseen by Pastor Beni Johnson, I rather like thinking of it as "Beni's: Always Open" instead.) There is 24-hour video surveillance over every square centimeter as well, so don't even think about heading over there with any ill intent.
Sure enough, the morning after we flew in and got to Redding, I dragged my poor, unsuspecting spouse out of bed at 5:00 and through the chilly, pre-dawn darkness so I could come and pray. What was most surprising is that there were already several people there! There is praise and worship music playing inside at all times, though the volume varied so there must be a control for it somewhere. I kinda wish there were designated "quiet times" of day or week, when one could go and pray and just listen to the waterfall (yes, there's a smaller one inside the building as well as the big ones, with the pond, outside).
There's also been mention of putting a vending machine in there where one could buy little communion packets with a piece of bread and a tiny cup of juice; my opinion is that if there were a place to just take one (or purchase with a nominal sum) and an offering box next to it, they'd probably make more money that way and it wouldn't rob the largely-impecunious student/youth population of the experience. Idea: a vending machine that will take a student's (or any church member's?) ID card swipe as a form of payment, with a limitation of maybe 23 hours between uses (an hour's grace for those who come every day at nearly the same time). Complications abound and, at any rate, I digress.
Were it not for the general imperative that my spouse and I not be separated outside our home city (very long story), I would have basically lived at that prayer house all my waking hours while we were there. Even as things were, I got in several blessed sessions of decent length.
Every time I could relax enough to listen for Him (all except once), He was there, and I was in a place (not just physically) to receive Him. Things started to be revealed to me.
For a while, I'd heard people talking about The Anointing coming upon them in physical ways and, though I did (and still do) have my own peculiar physical manifestations (Maybe I'm a "Lefty"), there seemed always to be a theme among others of a fire-like sensation in the hands that I'd not experienced at all, and I had been both puzzled and dismayed.
Well, it came.
It didn't feel like a painful kind of burning, nor did it feel like sizzling per se, but it was more than just tingling or the feeling of a pulse. When I jotted down an exceedingly brief note of what had happened just after the fact, I wrote, "fire on hands" (not "hands on fire"). There was a sensation of tongues of flame licking but without the actual burning or hurting that one would normally expect to accompany it. It was a fairly strong sensation and felt quite unusual. When it faded away, it went out of my right hand before my left, and the last places it lingered were the left thumb and first two fingers, all the way up at the tips.
Now, what actually came of it? Nothing thus far. I've only tried using it three times, though, so it almost doesn't even count. Actually, I'm really glad it hasn't begun yet because I don't yet know how to carry it, especially now that I'm back in an environment where I'm not surrounded by a "Kingdom culture," full of resources and support. I just got a small taste when I was there.
I got a small taste of a great many glorious things during this trip. More to come.
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