Blog

By Ed Barnett

The Seventh-day Adventist Church was started by teenagers and young people, many of whom were in their twenties. Ellen White’s first vision came when she was seventeen years old. But today, we see our church being led by mostly older people. One can understand part of the theory behind why older people are leading, but I really feel the church is missing out by not including our young members in leadership roles, and in a greater numbers.

At the recent General Conference session in San Antonio, we often heard about young people needing to be leaders. However, as I looked around, it was obvious that it was not happening—at least not at that level. A majority of the delegates are selected by position—union or conference presidents, for instance, which require years of experience.

What can we do on the conference level, I wondered? What could be done in the more than 130 churches and companies that make up our conference that would make a significant change in representation in governance?

Currently, our executive committee has a few openings, and I am determined to present the names of some of the young church members in our conference who are called by God to be leaders and who would be representative of our congregations and the conference itself. My reasons are as follows:

Young people bring a different perspective to the way our church is run from those who have sat around the table for many years.
They have energy and enthusiasm, which comes with being young.
They are members in good and regular standing and deserve a voice.
They can be very creative in their questions, enabling us to look at things in a new light.
They often have a “can do” attitude that has in some cases faded away in older people.”
The broader the perspective brought to the committee, the healthier our committee will become.

Recently, I attended a board meeting with Adventist Health System. I met a young couple employed in our hospital system. One of them was a director in a hospital in Orlando, Florida. The other was a senior financial officer with the eight hospitals there. Both are still in their twenties, and holding senior and important positions with the Adventist Health System—yet, neither has even been asked to take a major role in church. I couldn’t help but wonder why we aren’t reaching out for the young talent that abounds in our church?

It is quite shocking to see the increasing numbers of young people going out the back door of the church. As a concerned church leader, I can’t help but ask if they were sitting at the table where decisions are being made about the church, would that back door perhaps begin to close?

I challenge all of our churches and schools to consider putting young people on boards and committees. Our conference and church will be better for it.

–Ed Barnett is RMC president.

By George Crumley

“William Kamkwamba was born in Malawi, a country where magic ruled and modern science was mystery. It was also a land withered by drought and hunger. But William had read about windmills, and he dreamed of building one that would bring to his small village a set of luxuries that only two percent of Malawians could enjoy: electricity and running water. His neighbors called him “misala”—crazy—but William refused to let go of his dreams.

With a small pile of once-forgotten science textbooks, some scrap metal, tractor parts, and bicycle halves, and an armory of curiosity and determination, he embarked on a daring plan to forge an unlikely contraption and small miracle that would change the lives around him.”

So reads the summary on the back of The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind.

William was pulled out of school when his family could no longer pay for his education. He could have made excuses to stay home and relax or let feelings of frustration cause him to become despondent and bitter. Instead, he determined to make the best out of a bad situation, and placed himself where hope had a chance to ignite. After all, the truth was that though he could not go to school, he could still learn at the small library that was nearby.

As he perused the library’s collection of books, he spotted a picture of a windmill on the cover of an old, used eighth-grade science book. Curious, he opened the book to see what this tall standing tower was. After asking many questions of the librarian, he began to comprehend what the picture was and to understand what a windmill could do.

Excitement welled up as he thought of all the possibilities. As his understanding increased, so did his confidence that he was on to something important. He became determined to fan this spark of hope into a flame that would spread to make life better for himself and his whole village.

Nothing seemed able to cloud his determination. Even the ravages of poverty and hunger were quieted as he directed his thoughts away from his feelings and discomforts and toward his hopes. The project wasn’t a burden, and obstacles were not dead ends but merely detours on the road to success.

William was a good steward of his time and thoughts, which opened the door for accomplishments that would only have been smoldering embers if he had consulted his feelings and paid attention to what seemed like impossible odds.

As we near the return of our Lord and Savior, and the famine of life closes in, we too can choose to be good stewards of our thoughts and resources, determining to make the world a better place for others.

We can place ourselves where a picture of God leads us to search through His library of answers, and hope will ignite as we begin to understand all that He can do for our village. With a conviction that we are onto something important, our focus will cause obstacles to be small in light of what is to be gained by pressing on toward our hope in Jesus.

–George Crumley is RMC vice president for finance.

By Carol Bolden

The St. John family had just finished their traditional Christmas Eve supper of warm potato soup, homemade bread slathered with butter and blackberry jam, and apple cider. The two children hurried into the living room as Mom cleared the table, Dad stoked the fire, and Grandpa claimed his favorite chair. They sat at Grandpa’s feet waiting for the stories he invariably told during a family gathering after a full meal.

One forgotten ornament sat on the coffee table waiting to be placed on the tree—a lone lamb. It seemed to catch the eye of both children at the same time, and each grabbed at it, greedy for the privilege of hanging it on the tree. As they fought to gain control, the fragile lamb broke and crumbled onto the floor. Shocked, they looked at each other with accusing eyes and began quarreling.

“Listen, kids,” said Grandpa. “The lamb is broken and there’s nothing to be done. Why don’t you just sit down and listen to a story. Do you want to hear a story about a lamb?” he asked.

“Yes, yes,” the children cried in unison, looking somewhat chagrined. So Grandpa began. “A long time ago, when I was a young boy and lived on our farm in Montana, my job was to take care of my father’s sheep. I guess you could say I was a shepherd because Charlie, my border collie, and I made sure they had food and water and watched out for their safety.

“One December night, when I was about 15, with snow piling up in drifts against the house and a freezing wind howling, I awoke with a start. Charlie’s cold nose had awakened me. I knew something was wrong by the way he was acting, so I dressed in wooly layers and followed him out through the blowing snow toward the barn.

“There, within twenty feet of the barn, lying in a muddy patch of ice, lay a bleating ewe. She looked distressed and unable to rise from her cold bed. But Charlie had something else on his mind. He led me to a shivering, newborn lamb struggling to gain his footing on feet and legs completely unused to standing.

“I hadn’t expected the lamb to come so soon, but it was here now and needed care. With old rags I found in the barn, I rubbed the lamb dry and put it in a stall with dry hay. Then I did the same with the ewe, so that mother and baby were together in the stall, dry and warm. The ewe found renewed strength when she heard the bleating of her baby and the lamb was soon nuzzling the ewe.

“All was well in the barn, so I headed back through the blowing snow into the warm house and my warm bed, leaving Charlie to look out for the sheep. I knew he would be plenty warm inside the barn and he didn’t seem to want to follow me back to the house. He always took his job seriously.

“Warmed by my cozy bed, I fell into a deep sleep, a sleep uninterrupted until, again, I woke with a start, this time unexplainably because Charlie was not there. The clock read 4 a.m. What am I doing awake at this hour? I wondered. I turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but something was wrong. I could sense it. I don’t know how I knew, but something was off.

“I forced myself out of bed, pulled on the clothes I’d discarded on the floor just a few hours earlier and headed out into the snow. The beauty and peace were magnificent. The winter moon shone on the pure, white snow. My previous tracks were covered over with fresh snow, so my feet sank into new drifts with each step. Reaching the barn, I called out for Charlie, but there was no answer. In fact, the stall where I’d left the ewe and her lamb was empty.

“Where in the world could they be? I checked the other stalls, but found nothing. Then I headed out into the snow. Why would they have left the warmth and safety of the barn and why would Charlie let them, I wondered? Not sure where to look, I headed uphill to the fence. Finding nothing, I followed the fence line toward the back of the property.

“Before long, I stumbled over something in the snow and realized it was the ewe, dead and frozen. Just beyond the ewe, I discovered Charlie. He, too, was dead, but below him lay the lamb, warm and alive. He had done his job at the cost of his life. He had saved the lamb.

“I scooped up the tiny, wooly lamb and hurried to the house. It looked like I would have a babysitting job. She would need to be bottle-fed. A lot of my time over the next few months was spent taking care of that lamb, but while I cared for her, I did a lot of thinking. I tried to re-create in my mind what happened that night when Charlie saved the lamb’s life.

“I never did figure it out, but I learned a lot about responsibility and love as I thought about what Charlie had done. And I learned about trust as I watched Evie—which is what I named her because she was born on Christmas Eve— develop complete trust in me, the one who fed and cared for her in every way.

The faraway look in Grandpa’s eyes disappeared as he again focused on the children. “Can you kids think of a story in the Bible about a lamb?” Grandpa asked.

The children looked thoughtful as they searched their memories. “Didn’t the Israelites sacrifice a lamb in the temple for their sins?” asked Matthew, the oldest boy.

“That’s right,” Grandpa confirmed.

“Isn’t there a story about a sheep that went astray?” exclaimed Mary, the little sister. “The shepherd looked for it until he found it and brought it back to the sheep fold.”

“That’s a good one, too,” Grandpa encouraged. “The story of the lamb runs all through the Bible beginning with the story of Abraham being asked to kill Isaac. It continues with a special ceremony, called Passover, in Egypt where the Israelites were instructed to kill a lamb and put its blood over the doorpost. And it runs through the Passover supper with Jesus and His disciples.”

Grandpa explained that in all situations a lamb is offered as a sacrifice for a debt. “When John the Baptist who saw Jesus approaching on the road, he pointed to him and said: ‘Behold the lamb of God.’ By this, he meant for us to understand who Jesus is and the debt He paid for us with His death,” Grandpa told us.

The children were quiet until Grandpa said, “Why don’t we finish off the night with a cup of hot chocolate? Maybe we should pick up the broken lamb first.”

There was no more fighting now. Each child gladly shared in the clean up. Maybe it had something to do with the Lamb.

–Carol Bolden is RMC administrative assistant for communication.

By Rajmund Dabrowski

Grandma’s stories about hospitality were the best. As kids, we would listen to vividly-described events that took us back to her own childhood. The small incidents from the “grown-up” world grew large in the world of children. Sitting at my bedside, she would speak about things and happenings that are all too often missing from the fast-paced life of today. With our child-like imagination we could travel into a world where kindness was ever present and it wasn’t difficult to be happy.

It was wintertime in the small Polish town of Radomsko. Her sister, Maria Stelak,* lived with three children, and for them Christmas was celebrated in traditional Polish fashion: a table full of typical holiday cuisine, festively decorated, with an abundance of freshly baked cakes covered with blue-black poppy seeds, all laced with laughter and wonder.

On Christmas Eve, the table was traditionally laid with one empty place left for an uninvited guest, a wandering stranger. Year after year, Aunt Maria would play hostess to someone at this empty place.

The house was off the beaten track, right at the edge of a forest. This particular year, instead of guests, there was an abundance of snow. The children had their noses glued to the frosted glass, waiting for their guests to arrive in horse- drawn carriages. But no one was in sight.

The evening games were later disturbed by a gentle knock on the door. “They are here!” children shouted. When the door opened, however, they found a stranger. He looked like a beggar, his beard white with frost. Under his arm, he carried a bundle. His clothes were torn and dirty. Grandma recalled that the stranger was a Jew. A traveler and a stranger, he was last thing they expected on that night.

His frozen feet were soon treated to a tin bucket of warm water. Then he ate like he’d never seen food before. Soon his face revealed the gratitude that can only adorn the countenance of a contented traveler. He wiped the bread crumbs off his face and beard, stood up, bowed, and walked toward the door. In an instant he was gone.

Hearing the door close, Maria shouted to bid him come back. “We must give him food to take away.”

“They went outside,” Grandma Janina continued. “There was no one in sight. Not even footprints in the freshly-fallen snow.”

It all sounded so real. Did she really experience such an awesome encounter? Later she would tell stories of her other encounters with miracles.

I keep asking myself, who was the stranger on that Christmas Eve in Radomsko? No answer comes, but I am convinced that angels visit good homes.**

Generosity—a gift that keeps on giving. Christmas is a celebration of the Gift.

–Rajmund Dabrowski is RMC communication director.

*Her son, Jerzy Stelak, pseudonym “Kruk,” was a cousin, and a contemporary of my mother, Alina. He was a WWII partisan, often pictured on his horse with a group of comrades roaming the central Poland countryside, creating resistance attacks against the German army.

**A Bible text comes to mind: “You welcomed me as if I were an angel of God, as if I were Christ Jesus himself” (Gal 4:14, NIV).

By Ron Price

Several times in the Bible we are told how God wants us to treat our fellow sojourners on this planet. In three of the Gospels, we find Jesus teaching that we are to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Paul reiterates this theme several times in his Epistles and adds that we are not to be jealous of, or quarrel with, each other (1 Cor 3:3). Elsewhere he admonishes us to “serve” one another, “submit” to one another, “forgive” one another—I think you get the drift. Though I cannot confirm, I once heard there are 51 “one anothers” in the New Testament.

Hopefully we can agree that how we treat others, believers or not, is important to our Lord. Yet doing unto others as we would have them do unto us is sometimes more easily said than done. All of us have moments when we are not so easy to get along with, times when others won’t be motivated to run for president of our fan club. Most of us also have people in our lives who pose a challenge to living out Christlikeness—people who have an uncanny way of getting under our skin.

If we’re honest we can admit that we have hurt others at times we really didn’t mean to. It’s a fact of life that people who are hurting will hurt others. When we’re not at our best, for whatever reason, others around us will likely be the first to know as we tend to take our frustration or pain out on them. This is well-articulated in the old song lyrics, “You always hurt the ones you love.”

Typically these situations do not occur because we are evil or have poor intentions. When we are hurting we are not as able to control our emotions, our actions, or our words as we might otherwise be.

Well, if that’s true for us, is it possibly also true for those who hurt or mistreat us? Is it possible that when others do us wrong they may not have intended to do so?

That’s where A.G.I. comes in—“Assume Good Intent.” When others hurt us we have two choices: we can react to their hostility or minister to their pain. By practicing A.G.I. we give the other person the benefit of the doubt, we assume that he or she needs our encouragement and support more than our condemnation. This can have a huge benefit when the offending party is a family member, a church member, or some other important person in your life.

Practicing A.G.I. might not always be easy, but please explain someday to Jesus, Paul, Peter, Joseph, or any other stalwart of the Bible that life—and doing the right thing—is supposed to be easy. I doubt you’ll get very far with that argument.

So let me close with an encouragement to frequently read and commit to memory the words of Philippians 2:1-5 that urge us to encourage and support each other. We should live this way not only for the benefit to others, but as the surest path to peace, joy and more satisfying relationships in life.

–Ron Price is a member of the RMC executive committee from Farmington, New Mexico.

By Rick Mautz

There are people who are rejecting a God that doesn’t exist. The God they’re rejecting is one cleverly projected by the enemy of God and man. As Christians, our most important role is to present a clear and true picture of God to the world around us.

When you look in the mirror, you get an almost perfect picture of what you look like because you are seeing your own reflection. That is what God has called us to be, a reflection of His character, made possible only when He lives in us and transforms our actions and attitudes.

So how do we go about doing this reflecting? Do I go door to door, telling people that I am here to reflect God to them? Not likely. What’s needed is a connection with people through natural interactions. We could meet a need, join them in enjoyable activities, or learn together through an educational endeavor.

Health is one of the most natural subjects that meets all of these criteria. Through health programs, cooking schools, and screenings, we can connect with people in a way that few other topics allow. Everyone wants to be healthy.

In the box below are a few suggestions on how to utilize the topic of health not only to connect with people, but to reflect God’s character to a world that may have the wrong picture of who He is. I call this approach “Connect to Reflect.” Our main goal is to reflect His character, but to do this we must connect with people. What is the best way to reflect Him? By doing. By exemplifying what He does.

When we care enough to listen, we reflect a listening, caring God. When we ask questions, we reflect a God who wants people to know that they are important to Him.

When we provide ongoing support by calling people even after the program is over, we reflect the Holy Spirit who is always walking beside us, helping us through our struggles. Sometimes it’s easy to give information, but difficult to listen. Let us practice our listening.

Christ is waiting for a people who will give a clear reflection of His character to their world. Do we care enough to learn the skills that reflect Him the most? Take advantage of an online training opportunity at rmcsda.org/support. Remember, I am here to listen to you and support you as you polish your mirror to become a better reflector of the God that is worth imitating.

–Rick Mautz is RMC health director.