Early this morning I left for St. Francis hospital to pray with a man before he went into surgery. The information I received said to be there at 7:30. When I woke up this morning I sensed that I needed to get to the hospital earlier. Sandy and I prayed for each other, then I left to make the visit.
I went to the information desk and asked what time Tom would be arriving. "He is already here," I was told. I asked where to find him and was directed to the fourth floor.
I took the stairs in bounds of 3 steps at a time. At the information station on the fourth floor a very helpful nurse tried to find Tom's name, but couldn't. She diligently searched until she found out where he was. "Come with me." she said. "I will take you to him."
We got to the surgical prep area and I was told, "You can't go in there."
I responded, "Could you tell Tom that I came to pray for him and that I will come back later to check on him? I'm his pastor."
"You're his pastor?" She asked.
"Yes, I am."
She smiled at me and said, "Well, you just spoke the password. Pastors get special treatment. Come with me. I will take you to Tom so that you can pray with him."
"Pastor" was the password. It opened an opportunity that otherwise I would not have. I left the hospital and returned to the church to pray with some friends. It struck me how my position as a pastor is such a privilege and -- in this case -- was like a password that opened a door. I was struck by a greater truth: I minister and pray in the name of One whose Name can open any door -- it is the true Password!