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By Reinder Bruinsma

Only months ago, the first reports from China about the emergence of a new coronavirus—COVID-19—were beginning to circulate in the Western world. Since then, the deadly virus has infected millions of people and killed hundreds of thousands of men and women. And for the Southern hemisphere, the worst is probably yet to come.

As I write this short article, the daily news is dominated by this global crisis. Yes, the wars in Yemen and in Syria are continuing to exact their terrible toll, and the refugees continue to crowd the camps on the Greek island of Lesbos and other places. And yes, from time to time there are still some news snippets from North Korea. But these things have been completely overshadowed by the continuous stream of coronavirus news. Even the topic of climate change is on the back burner. Brexit talks will, presumably, continue, but it is also rather quiet on that front.

As the world is in fear, not knowing for how long the present pandemic will bring death and despair, people also are beginning to wonder what kind of long-term impact this crisis may have. Will it profoundly affect, also in the long term, the way we live, work and communicate? Will it change the political panorama? Will the crisis contribute to a further decline of the United States as the world’s number one superpower? Will China’s prestige and worldwide influence increase? Will the crisis permanently damage the European project?

What about the church?

Looking at a possible impact of the COVID-19 crisis on the Christian Church in general, one must conclude that there are many questions and, so far, very few answers. Will it lead many people to give more thought to questions about the meaning of life? Will it strengthen the trust of those who believe in God that, somehow, He still is in control? Will it lead believers to focus less on the doctrinal nitty-gritty of their faith and more on what it means to have a living faith in times of need? Or will it also cause many people to doubt and to ask the questions about how the current misery can be explained if, indeed, God is characterized by love?

There are also other aspects. Will denominations find it easier to work together and will this have a long-term impact on ecumenical endeavors? Will “higher” church organizations become more marginal when it appears that, when push comes to shove, the local congregations must largely depend on their own creativity and internal resources to ensure that the believers have a sense of continued community? In addition, one may wonder whether people may get so used to on-line church services that future church attendance may not reflect the pre-pandemic levels.

What about the Adventist Church?

Many of the same questions arise when we ponder what this pandemic will do for the Seventh-day Adventist Church. There is, at present, no way of imagining how the Adventist Church in the non-Western world where the bulk of the nineteen million-plus members of the church live, will be affected. I will, in what follows, focus on the Western world.

There are various reasons why in recent decades the hierarchical structure of the Adventist Church has weakened. For many members in the West, the higher organizations in our church have increasingly become further and further removed from actual life in the local church. The bitter controversy about the role of female pastors has not endeared a major segment of the church to the leaders of the higher organizations. And, although a segment of the membership applauds the more conservative approach of the top leadership of the church in recent years, it would seem that— at least in many places—the higher organizations (in particular the General Conference and the divisions) are regarded by many as less and less relevant. Will a period without any physical presence of the leaders of these higher organizations around their divisions and around the world field, due to the ban on international travel, and the cancelling of numerous international meetings, further strengthen this already ongoing process? Moreover, will the inevitable strain on the denominational finances be another aspect that feeds into this process?

Will the pandemic affect the theology of the Adventist Church? Theology is not something that happens in a vacuum, but is always, whether we recognize it or not, influenced by the historical and cultural context in which it develops. In times of crisis, Adventist eschatology is inescapably strongly affected. How does what we now experience fit into the Adventist end-time scenario?

As might be expected, various responses to this question highlight the deep polarization in the church’s thinking. As always, there are pockets in the Adventist Church (as there are in other conservative Christian communities) where all kinds of conspiracy theories flourish. Some suggest that the current pandemic ties in with the seven last plagues of Revelation 16. There are stern warnings on how the measures taken by governments all over the world demonstrate how quickly a situation may arise in which our liberties—including religious liberty—may be in serious jeopardy. They warn the members that the current crisis may well be a prelude to the establishment of some kind of repressive world government with, of course, the pope in a sinister key role. This will bring enforced Sunday worship and serious restrictions in commercial activities for the “faithful remnant.”

On the other hand, we hear the warning that we should be careful in giving an immediate prophetic interpretation to what is currently happening. After all, we have been wrong before when we did this. This pandemic, it is argued, may well be one of the many “signs” of the times, but we must refrain from alarmist predictions.

A positive development could well be that many church members want the church and its leaders to focus on what is, they feel, truly important in such a time as this. They do not look for Bible studies about the King of the North and the King of the South while thousands are dying of this terrible virus. They want to hear (and to share with others) a message of hope and encouragement, and do not worry about doctrinal fine print.

The local church is being greatly affected by the consequences of the COVID-19 pandemic. Keeping the church going and providing a meaningful service to its members demands a lot of local creativity from the pastors and many others. People with digital skills now play an even more important role than they already did. Communication with members and setting up a good system to keep them in- formed about the concrete needs of all members, is a sine qua non. Hopefully, significant inspiration will continue to come from the various organizational levels (in particular from the conferences and/or unions), but most inspiration will have to come from the local church. The “lock-down” of church buildings may not just be a matter of a few weeks but, in some places, of several months, and will demand a continuous stream of new ideas and new digital projects, for all age groups.

Some pastors are computer-savvy, but many, especially in the older age bracket, are not, or not enough, digitally knowledgeable to operate effectively in the current crisis. Here conferences and unions have a task to provide online education to help their pastors function optimally as long as physical contacts are severely restricted.

Another significant aspect is church attendance. Will many perhaps become so accustomed to listening to a sermon from their couch that this will become their preferred way of “going” to church? Will people have the tendency to tune in to the on-line service of their local church, or will many search for well-known speakers and tune in to the state-of-the-art on-line programs of big churches, rather than to the less sophisticated programs of their own, much smaller, local church?

And what about the finances? To what extent will the giving patterns of tithes and other offerings suffer under the present conditions? How will this effect mission projects— far away and nearby?

Can we expect some positive effects?

As I said in the opening paragraph, I have many questions for which I do not even have the beginning of an answer. However, asking these questions alerts us to things that we must carefully analyze as the Corona-crisis continues to exact its toll before it will, as we all hope, abate and disappear. It is important that the church, at all levels, will not simply go back to its earlier routines (if that is even possible!), but will take time to analyze what has happened and how we can learn from it.

What currently happens may, I believe, also have some positive outcomes. One example of this is the re-thinking of future world congresses of the church. The postponement of the 2020 General Conference session, which was to be held in early July of this year, has forced the church leadership to consider ways of re-shaping this quinquennial event, that over time has mushroomed exponentially, involving ever more people and requiring ever larger budgets—with no end in sight. The good news is that this unforeseen development has also prompted the decision to greatly simplify future world congresses.

The necessity to avoid travel and to cancel a wide array of international gatherings, symposia, consultations and committee meetings, may set a new trend in motion to make a much greater use of available technology and, thereby, save a great deal of time and money. Anyway, financial concerns may also force the church to move in that direction.

–Reinder Bruinsma

By Barry Casey

“Normal” is what you don’t have to think about. It’s habitual, constant, grounded in assumptions. There are few surprises. It may even pass unnoticed until there is a rupture in the routine.

And that’s where we are now.

In the past weeks and months, as people have grown weary of lockdowns, masks, and stay-at-home orders, a new genre of projections has grown around the idea of what a “new normal” will look like. It’s a way of reassuring ourselves that some kind of normal will resume in time, coupled with the feeling that whatever it is, it won’t be what we’re used to.

Crises create fissures that must later be filled in or at least bridged. But sometimes they change the landscape enough and are severe enough that—to push the metaphor—we have to build a new path around them or figure out a way to fly over them. In other words, they force changes in means and direction, maybe even in purpose and goal.

We don’t know the shape of our lives in the future except in broad outline. When 9/11 happened, the catch phrase was, “This was the day the world changed.” And in general terms, a lot did change. We live now with fewer civil liberties than we were used to in the 90s. Our travel routines include much more scrutiny and delays. Prejudice and violence toward Muslims in American society has increased and remained high since 2001. Oil prices have fluctuated, but despite fracking, they have doubled since 9/11. And the war in Afghanistan, the longest in American history, continues, despite fitful attempts at peace among the warring groups. But in the amount of people directly affected, and to the

degree that daily life has been upended, the pandemic has been far more consequential than 9/11. It seems clear now that the country was not prepared for a public health crisis of this magnitude. The cascading effects of closing public life and shutting down much of the economy will no doubt be felt for generations to come.

In the AC— “After Covid-19”—era, we can foresee long- lasting changes. At a personal level, many of us will be much more aware of the risk of infection, washing our hands more frequently, cleaning surfaces regularly, and carrying sanitizer. Many thousands of people will continue to work from home. Colleges and universities will refine their online teaching and shift their course offerings away from face-to-face teaching. The use of adjuncts, who are paid less and receive no benefits, will no doubt increase. When a vaccine is developed, anti-vaccination groups will campaign vigorously against it. Thousands of small businesses will not reopen, foreclosures on homes will escalate, renters will fall behind, and the numbers of homeless will skyrocket. And underlying all that social turmoil will be the lingering grief and trauma from hundreds of thousands of deaths.

For most of us, considering what is “normal” and what might constitute the “new normal” is a rather passive exercise, if that’s not too much of an oxymoron to swallow. We probably don’t give it much thought until there is both a backlog of things we want to change and the will to change them. We might wish to make a clean break with that which holds us back; we might decide to press toward that for which we hope.

If it’s true that the normal is what we accommodate to and then habitualize, we now have an opportunity to remake our set course with some forethought. Movement in two directions is possible. There is the anticipation and projection of our lives forward into what will become the new normal. There is a recalling of our past lives, in measures of repentance, sorrow, and a sense of loss. In time, there may also be forgiveness and gratitude. Both movements are bound together: the forward projection doesn’t occur without the remembrance and looking back. Even if we turn our backs on the past and look ahead to the future, it’s the past that conditions our desire for a new start.

After the death of Jesus, the disciples sheltered in place. They retreated behind locked doors. They had just gone through the most crushing defeat and the most astonishing reversal that humans could experience—all within three days. What were they to do now?

Only Mary Magdala ventured out on Sunday morning and made her way to the garden where Jesus was buried. When she breathlessly returned with the stunning news that Jesus was alive, Peter and John raced to the tomb, but they did not see Him. They had to trust in Mary’s word. Later that evening, Jesus appeared to the disciples, despite the locked door, and reassured them. A week later, He appeared again to them in an upper room. What did they do in the days between those appearances?

Sometime later they are up in Galilee, away from the dangers in Jerusalem. They are going fishing, the one thing they know how to do that doesn’t demand their full attention. They can go through the motions without thinking, for fishing is something they’ve been doing since they were boys working for their fathers. But for all that, they don’t catch anything, though they work all night.

In the early morning, a hundred yards from shore, they see a figure standing by a low fire. He calls out to them, “Friends, have you caught anything?” They answer, “No.” “Shoot the net to starboard, and you’ll make a catch.” And when they do, their nets are so full they can hardly haul them in. “It’s the Lord!” John exclaims. Without hesitation, Peter throws himself into the water to wade ashore.

And there is Jesus, with a couple of fish cooking on the fire, warm bread, and a gentle smile. “Bring some of your catch,” he says. And they eat. None of them dares ask, “Who are you?” but all of them know. In the midst of the routine, in the familiar places where Jesus first called them, they are awakened. Jesus prods Peter: “Do you love me?” Three times He asks and three times Peter answers yes. “Then feed my sheep,” says Jesus. Peter will never forget how Jesus turned His numbed regret into a burning love.

Jesus reaches us in our normal routines. He will accept us as we are, but He’s not content to leave us there. There is something new to be formed.

The normal does not demand our attention. It has become so routinized that we slip it on like an old shoe. That can be comforting, but we miss a lot when that happens. When we anticipate how our spiritual life might change because of the pandemic, it calls for our attention. Attention is what we bring to the imaginative reading of Scripture. Attention allows us to see what is revealed by God in spite of our boredom and our fear. Attention is what changes our passivity to an attitude of hunger for Christ’s gifts.

After this pandemic, what might be our new spiritual normal? We will still—and perhaps even more keenly—experience Christ in our personal and our communal spiritual lives. Can we open our hearts to our will, which is often hidden to us, but which flickers to life and light when we listen to Christ with full attention? “What are the elements that go to make the concentration of purpose, out of which great and effective resolves arise?” asks Austin Farrer.

As a worshipping community, we long for oneness. But unity is never a done deal. It is a constant matter of attention and will. “We have talked so much as if unity means uniformity,” notes Mark Oakley in The Collage of God. “These words refer to different things. As celebrants of diversity . . . as individuals alongside each other, our uniformity as a Christian body has never been and will never be. It is unity for which we pray, and it will only ever be revealed as authentic if there are shades of difference amongst us.”

In our differences, may our attention be held by Jesus Christ, who is forever the same in His love, forever new in His forgiving.

–Barry Casey taught religion, philosophy, and communication for 37 years in Maryland and Washington, D.C. He is now retired and writing in Burtonsville, Maryland. More of the author’s writing can be found on his blog, “Dante’s Woods.” His first collection of essays, “Wandering, Not Lost,” was recently published by Wipf and Stock. Email him at: [email protected]

By Zdravko Plantak

“Who am I? Who am I? I am 24601!”, were the most reflective words of Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo’s provocative and deeply reflective novel Les Miserables. Besides reading this novel as a mid-teenager, the words became more striking after seeing the musical in several countries and continents in the last 20 years.

Am I a number or am I a name/person? How does naming me Zdravko or Zack differ? What do I bring with each of these to the cultural mix that has been rich and continually moving? In what way do I reflect all the cultures that I have adopted, from Croatia where I was born and lived for the first formative twenty-two years? Or England were I decidedly naturalized in and accepted as my own for the next 16 years, and now, America that I have chosen as the place of my life and work for the last 21 years?

I have always postulated for myself, my children, friends and students, that “the unexamined life is not worth living” and that meaning in life cannot be discovered by chance but that we ascertain it upon living and reflecting on this life, continually hoping for a modified, purified, improved, and hopeful life to embrace in all its abundance and, at times, in its struggles. With the Bible writers and Dostoyevsky, Ellen White and Niebuhr, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and Tolstoy, and so many other thinkers before me, I continue searching and then investing my full energies into this purposeful existence.

The meaning of life is found in the relationships within the created and purposefully intended universe in which a good Divine Being loves and in the community of triune relationship cannot but create and spill the Supreme Love onto the image that is called Wo/Man. In that socially constructed community as a man and a woman, God poured Triune Image that is always and inevitably in relationship. This divine relationship is full of love and grace and cannot be expressed in any other way than deep care and supreme concern for the other. Even when the relationship between God and humanity is broken, God continues pursuing the created Imago Dei in us, endowing us with abilities that go beyond our sinful instincts. and making us loving and most fulfilled when we are acting God-like in our endeavors with each other. In other words, ontological humanness is actually to be in relationship and to centrifugally love and forgive

when it does not logically or even existentially make any sense. When we feel that we should be ruthless in order to endure [or better continue to exist such as at times like this terribly painful world pandemic], when we feel that we must pursue the “survival of the fittest” mode, the “Image of God” makes us give until it hurts, love until it does not make sense and forgive when it goes beyond “natural” human instinct. And when we do such extraordinary things, we label them heroism, or going beyond the call of duty, or a miraculous way of living exemplary lives.

The ancient thinkers would call this a Good Life, and by that, I assume, they would mean the Morally Upright and Fulfilling Life. The more modern thinkers would call it an authentic existence. And I would call it a meaningful or purposeful Christ-centered life.

To illustrate my single point, let me take an example of a fish. God created fish to live and thrive in water. The gills are adapted to absorb oxygen from water. Water is the only element in which fish can find freedom, can be free and fulfill itself, and find its fishness. That’s how it was created. It could exist in saltwater or fresh water, or in the case of salmon, it may go from one to the other. But that is the element in which it finds itself and is free as a fish. So, without a shadow of a doubt, water limits fish and its limitation is imposed on it by creation. But that limitation is the secret of its liberty. And the liberty of the fish is found in accepting the limitation that has been imposed on it by creation.

Let’s suppose one has a goldfish in a round bowl on the table. And the poor thing is swimming in circles until it is giddy. It finds its frustration unbearable. So, it decides to make a bid for freedom by leaping out of the bowl. Now, let us suppose for a moment that it lands in a pond in the gar- den and in such a way increases its freedom because it is still in the element it was created for—water. However, there is more of it so it does not swim in circles, but it can swim in squares instead. So, more freedom, but the same element. However, if instead it leaps to the carpet or the wooden floor, then we know that its bid for freedom spells not freedom but death. So, creation limits its liberty and its purposes.

Now, we apply this principle to human beings. If fish were made for water, what were human beings made for? What is the element in which human beings find their humanness, if water is the element in which fish find their fishiness? For me, the answer is love. Love is the major element in which human beings find their humanness, both in relationships of love with God and our fellow human beings. Love is the essential element within which human beings can live and thrive and find their meaning. And the reason is because God, who is love, made us in God’s image.

When God made human beings in God’s likeness, He gave them a capacity to love and to be loved, which is one of the basic ingredients of our humanness. So, we find our destiny as human beings in loving God and loving one another, which is why it’s not an accident that the first commandment that Jesus uplifts is to love your God, and the second, is to love your neighbor. The reasons for this is that it is in loving that we live. Living is loving. And without love we die. People who are turned on themselves are dead. I mean that is not life—life is loving. Even the Beatles presumably under- stood this when they sang: “All you need is love.” That’s what we were made for.

Michaelangelo said, “When I am yours, then I am at last completely myself.” I am only myself, when I am yours and only yours God. When I belong to you in love, then I am completely myself and truly fulfilled. When one understands this, it brings one to the most striking Christian paradox:

Freedom is freedom to be my true self—as God made me and meant me to be. God made me for loving. And loving is giving—self-giving. Therefore, in order to be myself I have to deny myself and give myself; in order to be free, I have to serve; in order to live I have to die to my own self-centeredness; in order to find myself, I have to lose myself.

That is the beautiful paradox of Christian living and freedom. Freedom under the authority of Christ, freedom of giving oneself to him and to one another which Jesus himself taught. True freedom is the exact opposite of what most people today aspire to: no responsibilities to God nor to any other human being in order to live for myself.

In the musical Les Miserables, Jean Valjean concludes in the previously quoted song, “Who am I?” with these words:

Who am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery?
Pretend I do not feel his agony
This innocent who wears my face
Who goes to judgment in my place
Who am I? Can I conceal myself for evermore?

Pretend I’m not the man I was before?
And must my name until I die
Be no more than an alibi?
Must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men?

How can I ever face myself again?
My soul belongs to God, I know
I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope, when hope was gone
He gave me strength to journey on
Who am I? Who am I? I am Jean Valjean!

In loving and acting for the other, I discover myself and I uncover the purpose of life. In relationships with human beings and the Divine Being, I truly find that loving is living, and I find purpose in giving my selfishness to the higher causes. I love because God loved me. And in denying myself, I discover myself fully as I was intended to be.

Loving is living and living is loving and I know this as it was supremely illustrated in the life of the most exemplary human being as He kenotically emptied himself to become like me in order to give me another chance to be as He originally wanted me to be when He created Adam and Eve.

–Zdravko (Zack) Plantak, PhD, is professor of religion and ethics at the School of Religion at Loma Linda University. Email him at: [email protected]

By Jenniffer Ogden

Elbow to elbow, with sleep still in our eyes, we trudged to the top of the hill, the crunch of gravelly soil sounding with every step. In the crisp predawn chill, we huddled close to listen to the site boss as she issued daily instructions and acknowledged important progress. We were assigned to different areas of the site and given our first rotation of tasks for the day. After prayer, the archeological dig team disseminated to their assigned areas. Dirt flew, ropes were secured, rocks were moved, and archeological treasures began to appear. By the end of the dig season of 2007 on Tall Jalul near Madaba, Jordan, glass and clay beads, ceramic idols, pottery with writing (an ostracon), and skeletons had all been located. The objects lent depth to the rich recorded history of a tiny hill on the route of the Israelites from Egypt to the promised land.

As a part of the team, I found it was the early morning gatherings, with instructions issued and encouragement given, that granted a clear goal for the day and enabled us to expand the wonderful base of knowledge of the area. We were a group prepared and a group empowered.

As congregations have shifted to online worship services, prayer meetings, and Bible studies, I see the Seventh-day Adventist Church as a group prepared and empowered to forward the message of hope. We have been given instruction and encouragement and now we get to carry the wonder of compassion and knowledge to a world ready for both hope and good news.

Actor John Krasinski, in the lockdowns afforded us by the Covid-19 pandemic, began a small YouTube channel called SGN—Some Good News. The cheering stories and tales of heroic acts were a weekly highlight over the eight weeks of quarantine. Just as SGN carried good news into homes and businesses all over the world, we, the Adventist tribe, are called to do the same. And we have had 176 years of preparation.

Since the early days of Adventism, the call to share Jesus and His salvation has been integral to the advent movement. In Testimonies for the Church, Volume 9, Ellen White reminds us that “. . . truth must be spoken in leaflets and pamphlets, and these must be scattered like the leaves of autumn.” The wonderful news that Jesus has fulfilled the promises of God to humanity must be shared broadly. Our call to action is clear. We follow in the footsteps of a Savior who came to “seek and save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10), and our mission, as a group of believers, matches that of our Leader. We have Jesus to share with the world! The printed page is, by its very nature, limited. With the radical expansion of technology, we have an unprecedented opportunity to reshape the method of sharing a timeless message.

Over the past weeks, three realities have come from our churches moving online.

1)  Every home is a church.
2)  Every member is a minister.
3)  Every church building is a community center.

Every home is a church

While it may be tempting to define home as the place in which we dwell, the truth is, home will vary for each of us. Sometimes the place we sleep and eat is an emotionally draining, spiritually dry place. Sometimes we are held to an expectation of perfection or action that is impossible.

So, let’s reframe the definition of home. Home is the place, or the group of people, where we are most loved and accepted. Home is the space we are most ourselves. In the presence of God, we are all home. Thus, when congregations moved online, every home became a church. The places and groups where people are most loved, remain the space in which Jesus is revealed daily. Yes, people were embraced and encouraged weekly in our sanctuaries, and now that embrace is running rampant in our neighborhoods and groups. In Rosaria Butterfields’ book, The Gospel Comes with a House Key, she reminds us that we have the potential to “invest in your neighbors for the long haul, the hundreds of conversations that make up a neighborhood, and stop thinking of conversations with neighbors as sneaky evangelistic raids into their sinful lives”.

Our homes, our groups, can be the space in which we invest in people. The pews and potlucks have been replaced by video chats, phone calls, physically distanced deliveries. We carry the ability to love as we have been loved (John 13:34) into the world. We no longer wait to have the world come into our spaces—we, the church of love and acceptance, are actively carrying the message of hope with us to every place and group. Thus, by creating spaces where people encounter love and acceptance, we create church everywhere.

Every member is a minister

The story is told of a young boy who crafted Valentine cards for every student in his class. He was a shy child and largely played alone. He was resolute in his choice to make a card for everyone. His mother waited cautiously for him at the end of the day eager to hear how it had gone. He walked up the walk toward the house shaking his head. “Not one! Not one, Mom!” His mom’s heart dropped. He hadn’t received a card in return, she thought. How sad. “Oh, Mom! I did not forget one!” he grinned and beamed at her and was giddy to have remembered every other student in his class. Everyone had received a card!

As our homes have become churches, each of us have joined in the full time wonder of ministry. We carry the love and acceptance of Jesus with us into each space we fill. We, like the young Valentine crafting boy, have the joy of remembering those around us and caring for them in tangible ways. We intentionally nurture spiritual dialogue and provide physical and emotional care to those we meet. Each of us carries the message to the people as our pastors long have done for us on Sabbath mornings. We are the ambassadors to the world, going to all places and peoples, with the empowering of Holy Spirit who calls us.

Every church building is a community center

A building is no constraint for the love of God. As we carry the love and acceptance of Jesus with us to our homes, the spaces in which we have met together for years often are empty. Many of our buildings have long been used once or twice weekly—for prayer meeting and Sabbath services—and left unused the rest of the week.

Now is the time to invite groups to share the unused space for small groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, and grief support groups.

Perhaps in your community what is needed most is a food distribution center, or an overnight shelter for the homeless. We have sacred space available for every person to encounter a place where they can be heard, cared for, loved and accepted. Our church buildings are the place where we can resource our communities. This means we must know the needs of our community! And as we are creating churches in our homes and filling our roles in the priesthood of all believers, we will learn quickly the needs. And what joy we will have as we partner in new ways to serve those around us!

Yes, the preparation of the Adventist church to meet the needs in our midst have grown over our 176-year history. And today, as we thrive in churches at home, as we embrace our God-ordained roles in building the kingdom, and as we use our church buildings as centers where resources are shared, we fulfill the vision to share the truth as the leaves of autumn.

–Jenniffer Ogden is writing from Boulder, Colorado. She has been involved in pastoral ministry for eleven years, most recently in Boulder. Email her at: [email protected]

By Nathan Brown

As we headed into the uncertainties of April, with the coronavirus spreading around the world and so much of our lives suddenly shut down and socially distanced, a friend posted on his social media feed: “Some have asked me ‘what does the Bible have to say about this virus?’ It says: Help those who are elderly, frail and sick . . . be a good neighbor!”

Amid the rush to re-read Revelation, share tangential conspiracy theories or quote flowery comfort texts, I think my friend was reading the Bible best. And as we re-emerge from our homes and begin to re-engage and reconstruct our public practices of faith and church, this insight holds true.

But as we embark on this task, it is worth pausing to reflect on what has been revealed during this difficult time and what the next steps ask of us and our faith. The key question we should consider is how we react differently—particularly, how we respond better—because of what we say we believe. In this process of reflection, we naturally begin with ourselves, but we must progress into our communities and the wider world.

Reading the Bible

Over the past few months, we have seen a renewed impulse to study the book of Revelation, with a welter of sermon broadcasts, online Bible studies, and even evangelistic series seeking to respond to the interest in such topics among church members and some in our communities. But, while meeting an apparent demand, Revelation has surprisingly little to say specifically about pandemics and such a focus can feed those darker impulses that foster fear and conspiracy-mongering. Indeed, some groups within our church and beyond seem to be trying to outdo each other in this regard.

While it might seem a natural fit, Revelation is not necessarily the most useful guide to faithful living at a time of stress and disruption. Read at its best, Revelation does offer glimpses behind the scenes of the history of our world and assurance of the final outcome, but it gives only hints of how we should live. Its best direction is to describe a group of people who endure difficult times and seek to live out the teachings, life and hope of Jesus (see Revelation 14:12), even when everything else seems to be falling apart or under threat. But Revelation is not a stand-alone text. After all, the Jesus we discover in the gospels is the only key to unlocking the mysteries of the book of Revelation (see Revelation 5:4, 5). Revelation is a guide, but Jesus is our Guide.

It is in the gospels that we most hear the voice of our Teacher. It is in the stories, ministry and teaching of Jesus that we hear the best responses to fear, worry and disease. It is His resurrection that defeated the threat and power of death. And it is He who concluded His sermon on end-time faithfulness with the call to love and serve those most in need (see Matthew 25). We need to grow our instinct to turn to Jesus and His way, rather than reaching first for Revelation and the many lesser aberrations of it.

Encouraging each other

Over the past few months, we have seen most churches scrambling to find ways to continue their weekly worship services as a first priority. While it has been important to maintain contact with our church communities, at a time of significant disruption, it is remarkable how much effort and even creativity we have invested in ensuring that as little as possible has changed in our church routines.

Yes, Hebrews 10:25 urges us to “not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near”1— but this can look very different in different places and times. How we meet together and encourage each other has necessarily changed, but let’s also take the opportunity to recognize that there is much in our church programs and structures that has proved unnecessary and even unhelpful. Let’s not be so anxious to get back to “normal” in this sense.

The other question we must consider is whether programming that is primarily for ourselves should be our first priority. For many years, we have tried to remind ourselves that church is not a building. The 2020 version is that church is not a Zoom meeting, YouTube broadcast, or Facebook livestream. Rather, church is a community of people who follow Jesus together and “motivate one another to acts of love and good works” (Hebrews 10:24) in the larger community in which we live and serve. In a changing world, that will look different—and more of our attention and resources must be directed outwards to our wider communities.

Kindness and justice

Over the past few months, we have seen many wonderful acts of kindness and generosity, including church-based programs and initiatives serving those who are in need and suffering during this crisis—as my friend’s Facebook post was pointing out. We must celebrate those who have worked to heal the sick, feed the hungry, support the vulnerable and reach out to the lonely. This work has been necessary and continues to be so important.

But we have also seen the disparity that always comes more into focus at times of crisis and disaster. Those who are already vulnerable are hurt first, deepest and longest. We cannot ignore this renewed revelation of inequality and injustice. And our acts of charity, vital though they be, must not distract us from the greater call to justice (see Isaiah 1:17):

The only thing to do to really help—the true kind- ness—is to completely restructure society. . . . Jesus did more than just hug away our differences. He completely changed faith and religion, ordering an end to the repressive hierarchies that saw widows, children, and the sick cast aside. Love is political when it is radical. Faith is political when it believes in something better. Hope is political when it looks for something more.

Creating alternatives

Over the past few months, we have heard conversations about how the coronavirus pandemic might re-shape our world in so many different ways—culturally, politically, economically, environmentally and spiritually. As with any such disruption and the inevitable uncertainty, there are serious risks but also hopeful possibilities. With the opportunities we have, however large or small, we are called to contribute faithfully to re-shaping our church, our communities and our world for the better.

Unfortunately, the difficult nature of these many tasks is one reason studying Revelation is attractive to many of us. As one of the “superheroes” in the apocalyptic graphic novel Watchmen reflects on the desire of some for an end to the world: “They want to be spared the responsibilities of maintaining that world, to be spared the effort of imagination needed to realize such a [better] future.”3 But the hope we have is never an excuse that ends our call to care.

Yes, we can echo the proclamation that Babylon is fallen (see Revelation 14:8), but the most effective way to call people out of these broken systems is to offer the alternative and present reality of the kingdom of God that Jesus taught—in big and small ways. For example, while we might condemn the unjust and broken economic systems of our world, we might grow gardens—both vegetables and flowers—as a small act of resistance, but also imagine alternative economic structures and ways in which people can work and grow sustainably.

Yes, we believe that Jesus will return—but that hope is our primary motivation for loving and serving today and our assurance for confronting serious challenges and heartbreaking injustice in the world around us. Among so many other such commands, the injunctions of Genesis 2 and Isaiah 58 and Matthew 25 continue until the King says, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom pre- pared for you from the creation of the world” (Matthew 25:34.)

So, what does the Bible have to say about this virus and how to live faithfully in its aftermath? Our world might be changed in many ways, but the faithful answer remains— continue to trust Jesus (see Acts 1:7, 8), walking humbly with Him in loving kindness and doing justice (see Micah 6:8). Or—as Jesus put it—be a neighbor (see Luke 10:30–37).

–Nathan Brown is a writer and editor at Signs Publishing in Warburton, Victoria, Australia. Check out the website for Nathan’s newest book “Of Falafels and Following Jesus” at www.FalalfelsandFollowingJesus.com. Email him at [email protected]

Notes

1Bible quotations are from the New Living Translation.
2Lenz, L. (2019). God land: A story of faith, loss, and renewal in Middle America. Indiana University Press, p. 94.
Moore, A., & Gibbons, D. (2014). Watchmen. DC Comics, p. 380.

By Zach Payne

Over the past few months, I’ve been having a lot of discussions about the much anticipated “new normal” that will undoubtedly arise from the COVID-19 pandemic. Some folks are scared of what a new normal could bring to the church experience, while others relish the idea of an opportunity to try a fresh new direction. Personally, over the past few months of online church, I’ve watched as people have tried old methods as well as new ones, and I’m excited for what the new normal of local church evangelism could look like.

A state of mind

Before I dive into the new normal, let me set the stage. Evangelism isn’t meant to be an event, but rather a state of mind. If evangelism is to be attended or consumed, then I’m doing my part just by showing up and sitting in a pew. This is the mindset that is killing churches today. However, true evangelism is found in everyday actions, habits and mindsets. It’s also important to note that, though public events can be cancelled due to crises, states of mind cannot. Especially when it comes to personal evangelistic activities—calling people on the phone to check in with them, praying with and for people, sharing interests with others, studying through people’s questions about the Bible, and so on and so forth.

The evangelistic state of mind is also all about building community. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been invited to dozens of social media groups since the crisis began. I’ve been on dozens of group phone calls and Zoom video chats. Community has persisted during the pandemic, and because we’ve been lacking casual everyday community, intentional community-building has thrived. Evangelism is the building of community, the sharing of life through hard times, the talking, studying, crying, and laughing together that ultimately brings both the confidence for a church member to invite a friend to come to a church event, as well as the comfort for that friend to accept the invitation. Evangelistic events can go on all year round, but true evangelism is nothing without these daily life prerequisites.

I’m compelled to ask the question, in light of all of this: For those who are so focused on rallying outrage against the government and demanding we be given the freedom to assemble for physical church events once again—are the same people also focusing that kind of energy on making sure that they’re building up a community of people to bring to those events? Or are the events just for their own consumption and nothing else?

Try something new

This brings me to another aspect of what I hope to see in the new normal of evangelism: updated methodologies and shifted priorities.

On March 16, my friends Sheldon Bryan, Myoung Kwon, and I put our heads together and came up with the Greater Milwaukee Adventist Fellowship group on Facebook. This ended up being kind of like an online megachurch that combined our three districts into one place online where we could hold services and host devotional thoughts and recreate local church community online. One Saturday afternoon, one of my members mentioned that since we were online maybe everything didn’t need to be the same as it was before—maybe we could try doing church a little differently.

This got my creative juices going and I recorded myself preaching on my wife’s iPhoneX as an Animoji, a customized animated emoji that uses the user’s own voice and facial expressions. I sent my wife the clips and she edited them together into a full sermon, which I shared the next Sabbath. Somehow, by doing something a little different, this sermon reached people during the crisis in a very significant way. I watched in amazement as hundreds of people shared it and thousands of people watched it. I’ve preached a number of sermons during the quarantine, but this is the one that stands out because it was unique. By taking my church member’s advice and trying something a little different, the success of my efforts was exponential compared to doing things the same old way. If we keep planning the same evangelistic series over and over and people routinely don’t come and are not baptized… maybe the new normal is demanding that we get creative and try something different.

Hope vs fear

As my colleagues and I were planning our crisis ministry, we decided that we wanted everything we did to be focused on bringing our church community hope, peace, and trust that Christ would carry them through the pandemic. Should that not be the goal of all evangelism? Here is where the new normal comes clashing hard against the old. We’ve been spending so much time trying to prepare people for the terrors of a foretold end-time crisis—but the truth is, the best preparation is a strong relationship with Jesus.

Unfortunately, that’s not always the bottom line in a traditional evangelistic series. I have members in my own churches who, as a result of our crisis ministry, are encountering grace and peace in Christ like they’ve not experienced before—and these are people who have been coming to church their whole lives. If those are the messages that are transforming lukewarm Christians into strong and involved church leaders— right now during this present crisis—then maybe that’s where our focus should be in general. I think we’ve proven that the scare tactics of beasts and conspiracy theories are actually doing more harm than good. The new normal needs to focus more on the lamb and less on the dragon.

Finally: focus on teamwork

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t speak to the element that I think will be the most crucial in our new normal: team- work. Over the past few months, I’ve witnessed what it looks like for three pastors of three districts, as well as the local leadership and the membership of those districts to work together to do something great for Jesus. If it was just me and my local church leadership alone, we would not have been able to accomplish nearly as much during the pandemic. Truly the Body of Christ cannot accomplish the work that needs to be done if we’re spending our time working separately or (heaven forbid) against each other, which, unfortunately, is a characteristic I’ve found often in the old normal. The new normal of evangelism needs to rely heavily on teamwork: between pastors, between members, between churches, and even between districts. While this may seem like a lot of work, technology has made it much more possible in our context and has shown that we can unite in significant ways on the Internet and social media that we likely could not before.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been a scare for everyone. People are asking the question: has this been a sign that we’re closer to the end? Whether Jesus comes back next week or in fifty years, it is clear that we are playing with limited time. Time is precious and we have to be good stewards. So, let us not waste any time on the folly of under- mining fellow Adventists, or even other Christians. Let us come together and realize we’re all on the same team and that when we act like it, we can accomplish victories for Christ much larger than we ever could hope for on our own.

Welcome to the new normal. It is my hope that for the sake of Christ, we can come together as a team and, through the use of current technology, create a new evangelistic state of mind for the church—one that seeks to creatively reach out and deliver grace, peace, and hope not just within the church walls, but out into our communities. The pandemic has shown us that it is possible and that it works. Let us not fall back into stale old methods and mindsets but learn from this and use it as we carry the cause of Christ into the future.

–Zack Payne is the senior pastor at WISEN, a network of small churches between Milwaukee and Chicago (www.wisensda.org). Email him at: [email protected]