Jon Roberts Page 126

By Katie Morrison

I spent a year abroad.

But it wasn’t even a full year. It wasn’t even a full nine months. But for some reason, saying, “I spent 8 months and 27 days abroad,” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

However you phrase it, the point is the same: I spent a significant period of time abroad, and that changed things. I gave up a year of comfort and stability, of friends and teammates, of consistency and familial support, to go to a place where I didn’t even know the language. Yes, I was also signing up for months worth of travel and cultural experience but I’m a creature of habit. New things don’t come very easy to me.

One of the hardest moments came around the holidays, supporting the conventional idea that it’s the worst time to be alone. Exhausted after a day of exploring, and slightly bitter after paying a fortune for a small bag of candy, I called my family at home, and immediately after seeing my sister’s face, choked up with tears. Ironically, during our video chat even more family members walked through the door, further plunging me into heartache.

After hanging up, I sat wallowing in a dark room in the most dramatic fashion. I wasn’t thinking of the amazing city outside my door or the new friends who were cooking pasta for me in the kitchen. I wasn’t thinking about the things I had. Instead I was consumed with the things I didn’t have.

Being away had an enormous impact on me, not only on how I view things presently, but how I will act in the future. I find myself hoping desperately that my first job post-college will be near my family. I hope that I can make the promised cross-country trip to visit the friends I’ve made while here in Italy. I hope to keep exercising—running on my own—even if it is the actual bane of my existence.

My time abroad has also sharpened my awareness of myself, of my opinions and boundaries. There are things that, growing up in a conservative, yet open-minded Adventist home, I was firmly against: swearing, eating out on Sabbath, drinking, smoking, and the list goes on. I was used to choosing friends who shared similar opinions, thereby avoiding conflict and staying comfortable.

Life in Italy introduced me to amazing people with whom I developed friendships before learning their stances on any of those subjects. We bonded and grew together and created memories that will endear them to me for life. But after these friendships were formed, I often found myself challenged. Never was I peer pressured, but I suddenly found myself with brand new opportunities and choices to make. Shopping and lunch at a sushi bar were common Saturday plans, and on weekend evenings the bathrooms would be overrun with girls getting fancy for a night on the town. I am not naïve enough to think none of my friends back home did these things, but unlike back home where no one ever did these things in front of me, in Italy I was brought into the circle. Suddenly I had the opportunity. Suddenly I had a choice.

I had been so coddled and sheltered in my self-inflicted bubble that I never really needed to make decisions for myself. Now faced with these kinds of choices, I questioned my motivations. I questioned the guidelines I had given myself, and even asked trusted friends and family back home about their personal convictions. I spent much of the year deciding what was ultimately best for me and what I personally felt God was okay with me doing. Even though that might have meant I spent more Saturday nights alone in my room than in the company of friends, it did give me clarity. I was able to sharpen the beliefs I already had and really make them my own. I created my own boundaries instead of relying on those I had been given from birth.

I return to America with a greater appreciation for weekend trips and spontaneous midnight snack runs, for foreign languages and contrasting perspectives, for new friends and new loves (I’m talking about Switzerland—I’m still single, Mom and Dad!). I return to America with a greater sense of self, desperately hoping it helps in my final year of college and gives me the confidence to do what I must. I return to America a little kinder, a little smarter, and a little poorer.

But even with all the gifts my year abroad has given me, I can’t wait to return to things awaiting me back home.

Some friends and I spent my final week in Sicily for a few last adventures. We climbed volcanoes, ate amazing pasta and cannoli, relaxed by the seaside, and embraced friends for perhaps the last time. Sporadically, one of us would be overcome with homesickness and desperately cry, “Only five more days!” or “Only two more days!” Even though I had spent the better part of winter feeling more than ready to go home, I felt dread hearing the countdown. Somehow, seemingly overnight, this foreign place had become home. I would return to Italy in a heartbeat. Yes, I love my family too much to live here for longer than a year or so, but this country will hold a piece of my heart forever. The way it changed me, the friendships I cherished, the memories I made, will never fade. And if they should somehow, I have lots of amazing photos to remind me.

–Katie Morrison completed a year of study in Florence, Italy. She was the RMC communication intern in 2015.

By Rajmund Dabrowski

My wife doesn’t really like my room. Once, when I offered to exchange rooms with her for a couple of hours so I could watch a TV program that evening (which I knew she wouldn’t want to watch), she said, “I don’t like to go to your study. It’s cluttered.”

Naturally, I was hurt.

My next journey was to take a look and see whether there was a good reason for such a judgment.

No. I will not apologize for my study. Everything I need is there, and there is still plenty of room to add more. No mess—just a collection of things, neatly placed, meaningful, and full of memories. Not cluttered. Clutterful. Like beautiful. And go ahead and add to that plenty of nostalgia.

An observer would quickly note that someone who deals in religion must occupy this room. Symbols are everywhere. Many of them relate to a bygone era of Jewish culture and its religious journey. The bookcase displays volumes about Hasidic life and theology—hobbies of mine.

Robert Eisenberg, author of an enchanting book Boychiks in the Hood, writes about the Satmar, one of the Hasidic sects. This group operates a food bank that is a model of discretion. Vans drop boxes of food on the doorsteps of the disadvantaged late every Thursday night. The vans are camouflaged as legitimate grocery store delivery trucks so as not to embarrass anyone. The elderly stay with their families. Homes for the aged are considered an abomination.

A person who is hospitalized is never at a loss for visitors. Suicide, child abuse, divorce, along with a litany of other modern problems, are relatively rare in the Hasidic world.

Nostalgia: the strange world of comparing the “now” with the “then.” Nostalgia: that’s what my room offers me as I look back in time and reflect on what I should reclaim for my own world, wherever I am, and whenever I meet with the delights, laughter, pain, and arrogance of today.

“I remember the days of long ago . . .” (Psalm 143:5 NIV). That refers to “then,” but it pushes me toward something new. My nostalgia pushes me forward. It reintroduces me to a day when I get to create something new, and the only time I can form a future for myself, and for those around me.

That’s why I love the clutter of my room. It provides the symbols that sustain my faith, ignite my imagination, and keep me moving among people who are great and amazing, bland and indifferent, funny or sad—and all to be loved.

Every worship service at my local church ends with the same phrase. It offers a serious challenge for the days ahead: Go and live love, the pastor says. As we drive home, or meet with friends or strangers, “live love” points to each woman, man, and child—every single one of them a brother, a sister, each a child of God.

–Rajmund Dabrowski is RMC communication director and editor of Mountain Views.

By Eric Nelson

As the son of an evangelistic pastor, I have very fond childhood memories of participating in my father’s ministry. Evangelism was a positive experience. I saw people’s lives changed as they accepted Christ and our message. I saw the light of understanding appear in their eyes as they discovered a biblical teaching that impacted their lives. These were powerful and wonderful experiences for me.

As a young pastor beginning in ministry, I did not feel called to be an evangelist in the same way as my father. However, as a pastor and a Christian, I was called to “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature” (Mark 16:15). God also tells us, “You are my witnesses” (Isaiah 43:10).

I invited guest evangelists to conduct evangelistic meetings at my church, but I did not feel called to conduct my own outreach in this way. Personally, I enjoyed presenting seminars—as well as small group studies—on the book of Revelation as a newer and different form of evangelistic outreach. For me, the small group atmosphere was much more comfortable and yielded more satisfying outcomes in my ministry. I learned a powerful lesson: there is more than one way of doing evangelism.

Recently, I attended a workshop that featured numerous varieties of evangelistic outreach. It was fascinating to hear of a number of innovative projects that were used as “evangelism” and done in new and fresh ways.

A few examples:

A health club outreach at Andrews University. Participants were coached in the workout program. They bonded as a group. The group leaders invited the participants to come to evening sessions over 8-10 nights to share in a series of Bible presentations. Their outreach resulted in many decisions for baptism.

Thirteen believers banded together to begin an urban Bible study group. As they grew, they multiplied. They have now grown to an attendance of over 550, and focus more on the small group model and less on their worship style. They only hold preaching services twice each month.

In Huntsville, Alabama, a congregation purchased an existing church structure, and while they had work bees to prepare the new building for occupancy, people in their “Sunday best” came over expecting a worship service in the building. The pastor began a relaxed and simple service on Sundays at 11am as an outreach tool for eight weeks only. To his amazement, even before the series concluded, many began attending the main worship services held on Sabbath. A surprising number of individuals were baptized as a result of this outreach ministry.

In our own Conference, we can list a number of outreach initiatives:

Boulder Church is conducting faith forums. These are designed as neighborhood bridge-building events fostering healthy conversations with members of the church and the surrounding community. Guest speakers will be brought in to provide stimulating food for thought.

Hispanic pastors practice a method of outreach that has been quite successful for them. Most of these pastors within our conference conduct two series a year lasting only about 8-10 nights over two weekends. Almost no advertising is done other than members inviting friends. As a result, they currently lead our conference in baptisms—35 percent of the total.

Hispanic pastors have also created INTEL, a lay training course that teaches church members preaching and evangelistic methods, as well as Bible and family life studies. The course aims to empower members to provide leadership and ministry in both the church and the community.

Golden and Denver West Churches are conducting Fire Rekindled events where keynote speakers come on a regular basis for a weekend series of presentations. This approach provides year-round opportunities for members to invite guests and those taking Bible studies to make a decision. Others can grow in their commitment to Christ.

Outreach and evangelism are integral parts of ministry within the Rocky Mountain Conference. Many methods can be developed and implemented. The methods are not as important as the fact that the churches are focused on reaching out toward their communities, with Christ- centered presentations and truth-filled sharing. Invitations to accept and commit to the Lord will result in baptisms into the Seventh-day Adventist Church.

–Eric Nelson is RMC vice president for administration and evangelism coordinator.

By Godfrey Miranda

“Go ye therefore . . .” The great commission entrusted to the first disciples atop the Galilean mountaintop still rings with urgency today. More than ever, there are disciples to be made of all the nations! But if in the twenty-first century we hope to have as significant an impact as the early church of the first century did, we must remember that Jesus’ call to “go” was coupled with the command to “stay” and “wait” for the promised Holy Spirit (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:4).

How well do you wait? Waiting is hardly considered a pleasure in our 4G, LTE society where productivity is measured in nanoseconds. In the economics of the kingdom of heaven, however, waiting is of extreme value. Consider the experience of those huddled in united prayer leading up to the Day of Pentecost. Their faithfulness to wait for the “Promise of the Father” ensured that they fulfilled the call to “go” in God’s power, in God’s timing, and in God’s wisdom.

I have personally felt the tension between going and waiting as I have recently accepted the call to plant a new church in Castle Rock, Colorado. Coming most recently from pastoring a very active and established congregation, the absence of the constant rhythm of meetings, ministries, and program-based evangelism has been an adjustment for me, to say the least.

In this new context, waiting has become my watchword. Waiting on the Lord is making me realize anew that the goal of ministry is not just to be busy, but to be about my Father’s business. The goal is not just to work, but to work in God’s power, timing, and wisdom. When we focus solely on “going” to the neglect of waiting, it is all too easy to let our ministry activity be driven by the expectations of others rather than clear directives from God. We may be using our time busily, but waiting leads us to use our time wisely.

The apostle Paul counsels believers to walk wisely, “redeeming the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians. 5:15). Paul knows that our time tends toward being bound and shackled, whether by needless things or by relatively good things that are still not God’s will for us. Could it be that the best way to redeem time is to wait on God, to wait for God’s Spirit?

Let’s be real. Waiting is counterintuitive because it can feel very unproductive and ineffective. Waiting requires a redefinition of productivity for the follower of Christ—it’s not just about achieving goals, but achieving God’s goals. How then do we know what God’s goals are? We wait, we watch, we listen. To wait is not the opposite of to work; waiting is the first work. Read that again. You may need some convincing, but God’s promise is that when we wait, we obtain His power to go.

Nehemiah waited four months before sharing his burden with the Persian king and going on to rebuild Jerusalem’s walls. Moses waited forty years before acting upon his passion for Israel’s freedom. David, aware of his kingly anointing, waited as a shepherd boy, royal musician, and then fugitive, before realizing his divine calling. In the humble town of Nazareth, Jesus saw nearly two decades pass between His first Passover visit as a young boy and His last Passover visit as the Lamb of God.

When we wait, God works. When I arrived at my previous pastorate, I felt a tremendous burden for Fred’s conversion. He was an extrovert with influence, culturally Adventist but far from God. After several visits and attempts to connect spiritually proved futile, I invested in interceding for Fred night and day, both on my own and with others. Almost nine months later, Fred attended our mid-week prayer meeting for the first time on a night when we were prayer-walking our church facilities in preparation for an evangelistic series. Little did any of us realize that as Fred prayed for future guests to hear the Word of God, he was actually praying for himself.

At the conclusion of the series, Fred was re-baptized and now joyfully serves the Lord in spiritual leadership roles in the church. When we wait, God works. In all our going for God, let us cultivate the discipline of waiting.

Godfrey Miranda is pastor of a new church plant in Castle Rock, Colorado.

By Gary Thurber

I will never forget Tom’s prayer. I was only about 12 years old as I stood in a circle of academy and college students who prayed together at the end of a Friday night vespers. Tom had just given his heart to the Lord yet had never prayed. He came from quite a painful background of drugs and alcohol. Some of the students in the circle had worked with a witnessing program the Texas conference had organized that summer. They were not doing traditional evangelism as we think of it today; rather, they formed a singing group and renovated an old fiberglass factory where they held meetings for the young people of the community. This was in the “hippie” era, and they called the meeting- house “The Gate.” The witnessing team sang all across town and invited young people to come to The Gate for spiritual inspiration. This approach had not been tried before and there were plenty of naysayers quick to criticize what the “youth evangelists” were trying to accomplish.

The young people were in charge of planning the program. The theme, songs, skits, and speaking were all created and executed by young people. The conference youth leader provided oversight, but the youth were given ownership of the ministry. There is no doubt there were people who could have sung better and been much more eloquent speakers than the youth, but there was something powerful about youth relating to youth. A person could question the methodology employed by the youth, but no one could argue with the results.

Many youth from the community showed up, and Tom was among them. At first, he was hesitant to pray. He told us he had never prayed before and wasn’t sure how. Some students encouraged him, saying, “Just tell God what is on your heart.”

Tom began, saying something like this: “Hi God, Tom here. You know we just met a few days ago. I don’t know you very well yet, but thank you for all you have done for me. Well, I guess I will talk later, see ya.” There were very few dry eyes in the circle as we all heard Tom’s first prayer.

Although this happened many years ago, I still know some of the young people who found Jesus that summer. It is unlikely the methods used then would be effective today, but that raises an important question: “What method or methods should we use today?”

I have two questions for you to consider. 1) How much time does your church spend thinking, planning and dream- ing about how to reach your community for Christ? and 2) Does your congregation invite young people to be involved in this planning?

Unfortunately, many churches have stopped dreaming. They seem to think of evangelism in only one way. I believe we need to spend quality time and energy creating new ways to reach our communities with the wonderful message the Lord has given us. Having young people as a part of that process—even initiating it—is, I believe, vital. But consider yourselves warned: they will stretch your thinking!

Consider Ellen White’s advice about approaching evangelism. Her words inspire me: Means will be devised to reach hearts. Some of the methods used in this work will be different from the methods used in the work in the past: but let no one, because of this, block the way by criticism (Review and Herald, September 30, 1902).

Here is a challenge for your next church board meeting: Invite some young adults to attend. Spend half of the time praying, dreaming and planning about how you and your church can reach your community for Christ. Listen to the young adults because they have insights about the new paradigm of society and the best way to reach it for Christ. This is, after all, our great commission.

Gary Thurber is president of Mid-America Union Conference of Seventh- day Adventists in Lincoln, Nebraska.

By Reinder Bruinsma

Last year, some 30,000 new Seventh-day Adventists were baptized as the result of a well-orchestrated, nationwide series of evangelistic campaigns in the East African country of Tanzania. Next month, an even greater harvest is expected when about 100,000 new brothers and sisters will be added to the church in the Central African country of Rwanda.

We have never seen such large baptismal ceremonies in the Western world. But Adventism here in North America also began and developed in the context of camp meetings and public campaigns or “crusades” (a very unfortunate and insensitive word). Until a few decades ago, this method of evangelism was reasonably successful. However, today even with a large budget and lots of personnel, the number of those attracted by public evangelistic campaigns remains abysmally small.

Admittedly, they still work to some extent in reaching certain immigrant communities. But most pastors and other leaders have awakened to the indisputable fact that in the United States, Europe, and Australia, the days of public evangelistic meetings are definitely over. We must hope that those who are behind the mission to the big cities will also adapt their approach to this reality.

The New Testament makes it abundantly clear that the followers of Jesus have received a mandate to communicate the message of their Lord, along with all this implies for everyday life and the future for every person on this planet. However, the Biblical is silent about specific methods.

We know that the apostles and other leaders traveled through the ancient world and started church plants wherever they went. We read of occasions when lots of people were together, and the apostles used these as launching pads for their outreach, during a festival in Jerusalem (Acts 2), for instance. And the apostle Paul often met groups of people in the open air (Acts 17:16-34), or in the context of the existing synagogue structure (Acts 14:1).

But we search the New Testament in vain for instructions on how church members were to witness about their faith. We read nothing about the blessings of literature evangelism, standard Bible lessons that may be used by lay members, let alone stress seminars or Revelation seminars or their first-century equivalents. The members of the early church were supposed to share their faith as they went about their daily work and as they shared their meals with other people. Their witnessing was often far from easy. It is significant that the Greek word that is often translated as witness also has another meaning: martyr!

Witnessing in the Western culture in 2016 is possibly just as difficult as it was in the first century. In our postmodern context, people no longer want to hear about absolute Truth. They claim that all people are entitled to their own truth. Many people may still have a definite spiritual interest, but are no longer interested in any form of institutionalized religion. They are utterly suspicious of people and organizations who want to recruit them to their club, who claim to know exactly how to interpret the Bible, and who think they have all definitive answers.

If we want to communicate the gospel in this setting we must, first of all, listen to people, and talk with them, rather than talk to them. It is essential to understand the world in which the people around us live, to find out how they think, what they watch and read, and how they spend their leisure time. If we want people to be interested in what we have to say, it is essential that we speak their language, particularly when we talk about spiritual things.

A large percentage of today’s public—and I do not only refer to the millennials—does not even know the meaning of most of the simple religious terms we routinely use. And that is even more true when it comes to Adventist jargon. Many of us have a lot to learn a(nd to unlearn) if we want to be effective communicators. One of the biggest problems in Christian witnessing is the tendency to answer the kinds of questions people are no longer asking. We often want to respond to the questions we believe they should be asking!

The first issue postmodern people around us have on their minds is not what day of the week they should go to church. They do not wonder about a heavenly sanctuary or about the events surrounding the millennium. Often their first questions are whether God actually exists, how they can learn to pray, and how they should read the Bible.

Public evangelism is, in most cases, a thing of the past. Sharing the message of salvation in Jesus Christ and leading people to a faith community that takes Jesus as its ultimate example will mostly be through personal contacts and creative small-group ministries, with an important supporting role for social media.

If ever there was a time when a local faith community should be open and welcoming, it is today. Belonging tends to precede believing. The local church must be a place where our friends feel safe; where they can come with their questions, their doubts and their peculiarities. The keywords are: community, friendship, space (for one another), and patience.

Paul compared the church members in Corinth with letters from Christ (2 Cor. 3:3) for all people to read. This was the challenge he held before the Corinthians: Be aware of the fact that the people around you watch you. They try to read you, to see what kind of person you are.

That is true for us in 2016: People are reading us to see what kind of people we are deep down. Or to use a contemporary term: people want to find out whether we are authentic—whether we are genuine. If they feel we are for real, they may listen to us. If they decide we are fake, we might as well keep silent!

Reinder Bruinsma is a theologian, writer, and former church administrator. He writes from the Netherlands.