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By Ed Barnett

Just a little more than a week ago, I was at the year-end meetings for the North American Division wondering, along with others, what Randy Robinson, the new treasurer for the Division would deliver in his first treasurer’s report. I was curious about how he would deal with the financial planning of our church. He began with a picture of a beautiful retired couple sitting at their kitchen table writing out their check for tithes and offerings. This beautiful picture, he explained, was common in this household as they faithfully give of their monies for God’s work with each increase.

Then he explained that because of Mr. and Mrs. Jones and many others like them we must faithfully give account for every penny given to God’s work around the globe. Whenever we use money given by God’s faithful people, we must keep in mind the Joneses and their faithful trust in God’s work. I was impressed with our new treasurer.

Every penny that comes into God’s work must be carefully and faithfully used toward God’s work. I am proud that our Rocky Mountain Conference is audited each year and care- fully checked for legality and faithfulness. Once again, auditors gave us a clean audit and were impressed with the work that George Crumley and his team are doing.

It is the faithfulness of God’s people in our conference that makes it possible for us to fulfill our mission of taking the Gospel of Jesus to everyone in our territory. Most of our members have humble salaries, but are nonetheless faithful. Some of our believers are financially blessed and able to give large sums of money, but all God asks is that each of us be a faithful steward of whatever He has given us.

Many give hundreds of dollars to God’s work each month; some give thousands, but as long as God’s people are faithful, we have a steady stream of funds to do His bidding. These are the monies used to make our monthly and yearly budgets.

Once in a while, someone will sell a piece of property or a business, giving them the ability to return a onetime event tithe and offering on that blessing. We call this windfall tithe and since we can’t count on it happening again, we never budget using hoped-for windfall tithe.

Checks and electronic monies are faithfully given all over our conference, sometimes in small amounts, sometimes in large sums. It is amazing to see the generosity and faithfulness of God’s people. A windfall tithe from a property sale just short of a million dollars came in this year and I wondered what it would be like to write out a check of that size. I was reminded that every gift, no matter the size, from a faithful supporter of God’s work receives the same blessing as the return of a smaller yet honest and faithful amount.

Last year, more than seventeen million dollars came into our conference through tithes and offerings from faithful people who care about God’s work in our conference and beyond. God is blessing His work here in the Rocky Mountain Conference. Both my wife and I are grateful to be able to faithfully give our funds into God’s work.

It reminds me of the words found in Malachi 3:10-12:

“‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it. I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not drop their fruit before it is ripe,’ says the LORD Almighty. ‘Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,’ says the LORD Almighty.”

It is a joy to be faithful in God’s tithes and offerings. When I look back over my life and ministry in the church, I can say unequivocally that God has blessed us way beyond what we deserve. He is always faithful to His word.

We are nearing the end of another year and, believe it or not, 2020 will soon be upon us. I invite you to continue your faithfulness to God as we finish the year, and you will receive blessings beyond measure and beyond belief.

–Ed Barnett is RMC president. Email him at: [email protected]

By George Crumley

Have you ever thought about how the word liberality turns up the volume on giving? Liberality totally changes the entire trajectory. Together the words “liberal giving” transform mundane and thoughtless giving into intentional amounts that go beyond the necessary or expected.

Painting a picture in my mind’s eye, synonyms with nearly the same meaning as liberal opened up panoramic views: Bighearted giving, generous giving, bountiful giving, openhanded giving and unselfish giving. The additional colors and textures of liberality convert simple giving into a masterpiece that replicates a picture of who Jesus is. On the opposite end of the portrait spectrum, liberal giving cannot  coexist with antonyms like cheap, miserly, or stingy.

In the true story of the Good Samaritan are the visible strokes of what true religion looks like; giving so liberally that the one in need receives the greatest amount of good.

As the story goes, a traveler was headed to Jericho through a rough and rocky gorge when he was violently attacked by several malicious men. Through the bloody struggle the gang forcefully ripped off his clothes, took anything of value, and carelessly left his bruised and bleeding body lying on the sandy floor of the desert. I imagine, in his suffering, the traveler was too weak to even summon help as he faintly recognized the sound of footsteps in the near distance. But then, finally, someone was brave enough to draw near to where the suffering traveler helplessly lay. As he neared the scene of inhumanity, his heart was moved by a compassion that drowned out any concerns for his own safety or forgetting to his destination on time.

After visually assessing the situation, this Good Samaritan grabbed some oil, wine, and bandaging material from the saddlebag that he had packed for his own journey and began to carefully attend to this man’s wounds. He could have stopped after this thoughtful act because he had done more than others who had passed by. But then he carefully lifted the traveler onto his donkey and proceeded ever so slowly over the rough terrain, so as to not cause additional pain.

Step by step they pressed on until they reached the shelter of an inn. They made it! At this point, he could have stopped his giving and returned to his own journey, but he stayed through the night in case the traveler should need his help. In the morning, when there were signs of improvement in the traveler’s condition, the Good Samaritan decided it was OK to leave. He could have stopped giving then, but as he passed the checkout desk, he asked the innkeeper to keep an eye on the traveler and handed him two silver coins— enough, some scholars say, to have allowed the man to stay in his room and recover for about two months. For certain the Good Samaritan could have stopped giving then, but he made a pledge to the innkeeper that he would return and reimburse him for any extra expenses that might arise.

What polar opposite effects were played out on the life of one man! Some hearts were so blocked off from human sympathy by the desire for selfish profit that they didn’t stop at stealing from the traveler, but maliciously inflicted agonizing pain before carelessly walking away. And then there was the Good Samaritan (whose cultural background ironically had the reputation of disregarding God’s ways), whose heart was so filled with compassion that he didn’t stop helping until he had done the greatest amount of good that he could.

God doesn’t insist that we liberally give so as to rob us of our 401K or to keep us from experiencing pleasure. But liberal giving keeps us from the desire for selfish gain and status that would eventually lead us to callously neglect those who are hurting. This kind of giving leads us to be watchful for the needs of those around us and then take action to provide them with what is most helpful.

Our churches need you and me to be personally engaged in being a blessing to Christ and others. Hungering hearts need our churches to overflow with a liberality of food that satisfies their deep longings. We all need the Lord. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every church was ignited with liberality and Rocky Mountain Conference could support hundreds of individuals to do full-time ministry for our precious Lord?

In all your giving, the faithful returning of God’s ten percent tithe and liberal offerings are very much needed and appreciated by those who are suffering and who have been delivered from the emptiness caused by sin.

–George Crumley is RMC VP for finance. Email him at: [email protected]

By Carol Bolden

It was in the heat of the day that the three strangers drew near Abraham’s tent. The conversation that ensued involved the safety or destruction of an entire city.

They met on a road, the two men distraught after a traumatic weekend, the Man who joined them the risen Savior. The conversation that followed revealed Scripture in a way the two men had never before understood.

Meeting at the village gathering place for water, the five-time divorcee and the Savior of the world made a connection that led to the evangelization of her town.

Not every conversation with a stranger is as meaningful as these examples, but even a quick exchange in a Costco check-out line can be rewarding and could even lead to the transformation of a life. We were made to be relational. In fact, these types of exchanges are some of the great perks of life. People can be, in turns, inspiring, comforting, affirming, open- hearted, and generous. Yes, that’s not always the case, but I’ve made so many positive connections in my travels around the United States with husband these past several months And who knows when a divine appointment has been planned for you? Conversations give us the opportunity to connect with people of other religions, countries, races, and communities. They build bridges toward peaceful, rewarding relationships that create bonds. Our relational God gives us opportunity to connect in mutually satisfying ways.

I met an open-hearted woman in Grand Coulee, Montana, while attending a very small church of just six people. All were friendly, but one woman, the speaker for the day, spent time talking with me and praying for my needs. I was touched.

In Lewiston, Idaho, in a much larger church of around 150 members, I enjoyed an affirming exchange with a woman who taught the Sabbath School class. As she shared personal stories that enhanced the lesson, I interacted during the class and afterward told her how much I appreciated her teaching. “I think we could be friends,” she said. “I was thinking the same thing,” I responded. It was a beautiful connection.

Ninety-three-year-old Betty at the Prescott, Arizona, church was an inspiring connection. She wields a hammer, I was told, like she’s 30. She just finished building a wall at the end of her porch and she still climbs a ladder! Sitting beside her in a Sabbath School class, I marveled at her spirit. She was deter- mined to live fully till the end, whenever that might come.

Another open-hearted connection happened at Fort Peck Downstream Campground where we befriended a couple traveling by converted van. Together, we walked around the campground sharing good conversation about life. When they left, they invited us to enjoy their photoblog as we hugged, thankful to have met.

It’s good to experience both the giving and the receiving of generosity.

A couple near Coulee Dam joined us at our outdoor picnic table one evening after they pulled into the campsite next to us and joined us again in our motorhome the next morning for animated conversation. Before leaving, they invited us to park in their driveway when we reached western Washington. Such generosity from a brand-new acquaintance!

Near the beginning of our journey, a young man in Pierre, North Dakota, pulled into the campsite next to ours on his motorcycle. When I realized the next morning that he would probably have to find a restaurant in order to eat, I invited him to share a hot breakfast with us. It was a wonderful opportunity to enjoy young thinking with someone at the beginning stages of life’s decision-making and a way to pass on the generosity we have received.

Like the early church, we are more likely to find the richest benefits in smaller groups than in large congregations. They give us the opportunity to demonstrate and receive God’s love. When we are forgiven by someone, we feel God’s love. When we are appreciated by someone, we feel God’s love. Every day, we’re given opportunities to be a stand-in for God.

“If only we could sense how important we are to the lives of those we meet; how important we can be to people we never dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person,” said Fred Rogers, that gentle man who loved relating to children.

Once there was a young boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suit- case with Twinkies and root beer and started on his journey. His dad always told him that he spent time with God whenever he went fishing so the boy figured he should walk along the shoreline to find God’s home.

After a while, he met an old woman who was sitting on a bench on the shore watching the seagulls. He sat down next to her and opened his suitcase and was about to take a drink of his root beer when he noticed that she looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie. She smiled at him and accepted. Her smile was so pretty that he wanted to see it again so he offered her a root beer. Again, she smiled and accepted. The boy was delighted. They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but neither said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy became tired and got up to leave. But before he left, he gave the old woman a long hug and she gave him another giant smile. When the boy returned home, his mother was surprised by the look of pure joy on his face. “What did you do today that made you so happy?” she asked. “I had lunch with God,” he replied. But before his mother could respond, he said, “You know what? She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”

Meanwhile, the old woman returned to her home full of joy. Her daughter was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked her, “Mom, what did you do today that made you so happy?” She replied, “I ate Twinkies at the beach with God.”

Both were a stand-in for God that day.

As a young person, I was extremely shy and found it painful to hold a conversation with strangers. I mostly avoided people when I could. In my early 20s, I decided to make a change and put forth the effort to connect with people. That’s when I realized that other people can be shy too and that greeting people in passing was a good way to connect. So, I made the decision to be friendly regardless of the response. It was the beginning of being set free of my shy- ness. It didn’t happen overnight, but it was a beginning. In embracing and welcoming others, we create community. In letting go of the familiar and embracing the not-yet-familiar, we find commonality.

Life begins at the end of our comfort zone and it’s a life worth living.

–Carol Bolden is traveling through the United States in a motorhome with her husband Thom. Read her blog: (https://outlookmag.org/off-to-see- america-traveling-by-motorhome/). She was communication assistant at RMC until her retirement in August 2019. Email her at: [email protected]

By Doug Inglish

Dotted around the Rocky Mountain Conference are many small churches. I consider them vital, because they represent the Adventist message in communities that might not otherwise have access to it. Beyond providing worship opportunities for the faithful few members, they exist so that within those communities, the message is alive, and whatever harvest results is worth it all.

But it is also true that in some of those places, those faithful few don’t have anyone who would attend a church school or academy. There is no one of the appropriate age to attend Glacier View Ranch or Mill Springs Ranch, and none of the people are really the camping type so they don’t attend family camp. Usually, none is in a position to benefit from the services of La Vida Mission. And, assuming the church is in good repair and adequate for their needs, there will be no major purchases or renovations. So, other than maybe sharing periodically in the evangelism fund, what interest would there be in supporting Rocky Mountain Advance, which funds these programs?

There are several potential answers. For one, you never know what the future holds. It’s good to have the assurance that if you do need a major repair, you can get some assistance. And if you rejoice in welcoming a new family, whether through baptism or transfer, the experiences their children have at camp can bless your people now and help hold on to the next generation. Same goes for Campion Academy. Even if no one in our church is able to take advantage of those ministries now, keeping them going could prove to be a blessing to someone close to you down the road.

Another reason to support these ministries is that the ones who are blessed by them now may someday find themselves living in your community. The person who gave his heart to Jesus when he went to a church school years ago which your advance offering supported may get a job that brings him into your congregation. A few years later, having discovered and developed his gifts at the academy supported by your offerings, he is now prepared to use those gifts in your church.

But I believe the strongest argument for supporting these ministries is a selfless one. Even if I never see any of it come back to my church, somebody was blessed by them. After all, not all of my offerings need to be for things directly connected to me. I have supported mission offerings for years without ever meeting the people who went to the church I helped build in a country I never visited. Nothing in it for me but the certainty that many will be in the kingdom because of millions of people like me who gave because we saw something beyond ourselves worth supporting.

But why should we only bless those on other continents? Churches within a couple hours drive from me are carrying on ministries that my church may not be in a position to carry out ourselves. But the people blessed by those ministries are no less precious to Heaven that the ones on the other side of the globe. The Rocky Mountain Advance offering is there to support them.

No matter where I am, or what my church is doing, the ministries supported by the Advance offering are hit and miss as to whether they will affect my immediate situation. All of us can participate in evangelism. Few will even set foot on La Vida Mission’s campus. But we can all be supportive. Your generosity is appreciated by students, by campers, by people hearing our message, and by those who gather in churches with new roofs and upgraded bathrooms. Bless you all.

–Doug Inglish is RMC director of planned giving and trust services. Email him at: [email protected]

By Mark Witas

“Honor the Lord with your wealth” (Proverbs 3:9).

I believe in spiritual gifts. I believe some people are given the gift of tongues. Others, the gift of healing. Still others, the gifts of teaching, prophecy, or hospitality. I don’t believe Paul (or any other Bible author) has given us an exhaustive list of all spiritual gifts. One I think was left out (at least in my reading) is the gift of making money. I know people who have as their primary spiritual gift a divine talent for turning one dollar into millions. They are just really, really good at making money.

Spiritual gifts can be used for the benefit of others or for selfish gain.

I have a relative who was gifted at making money to the point that he dropped out of high school in the tenth grade because, in his words, “Why should I waste my time in school when I can be making money?”

By the time he was in his early twenties he was a millionaire many times over. He had his hands in everything from gold mines to earth moving equipment; from corporate helicopters to exotic animals for zoos. His home boasted priceless paintings.. He had a huge building on his property to house all his vintage automobiles and toys of every description. He had the Midas touch, no doubt.

And then he died.

All his life his ambition was to make more and more. This ambition cost him several marriages. It cost him friends. It cost him relationships with his children. From all outward manifestations and observations, he was a selfish and petty man.

The wisdom writer admonishes us to honor the Lord with our wealth. That is to say, when we are blessed, it’s our task and obligation, but more than that, our joy, to bless the world with the blessings we have received. When we do, our joy, our relationships, our peace of mind, our relationship with God and people will be blessed. It’s not something God necessarily orchestrates this way, it’s just how love works. When love is received, it’s given away.  And when the circle works as it’s designed, His Kingdom comes, on earth as it is in heaven.

So, I wrote about a stingy relative of mine who was blessed with the spiritual gift of making and managing money. Now, I’d like to give an example of how to use wealth to bless and grow the Kingdom.

I have a friend who is the richest person I’ve ever met. Just before I left the district where I was preaching and where he lives, he said, “Mark I just closed on a deal and I don’t know what to do with all this extra money.”

I’m no financial advisor, but I asked (maybe impolitely), “Oh? How much money did this deal put in your pocket?

“Just north of $260 million”

It took a second for me to catch my breath.

He continued, “I don’t know what to do with all of it. My kids are all wealthy, my grandkids are taken care of—it’s a real problem.”

Let me tell you more about this person. He has spent his life mentoring others on how to make lots of money for themselves. He’s the only rich person I know who has far more friends than enemies. In fact, I don’t know that he has any enemies.

One Christmas, I accompanied him as he went from charitable organization to charitable organization, giving each of them a Christmas gift of $10,000. Boy Scouts, Rotary Club, Salvation Army, you name it. We went to dozens of these organizations. He never asks for a thank you. Refuses to have anything named after himself. He just loves to give. He’s built schools, conference offices, and churches.

Each day he comes into his office dressed in a suit that he bought sometime in the 1970s, reads the financials and does what he does best. Makes money.

One day I asked him why he comes to work each day. “Why don’t you just go live on a beach or on a yacht or something?”

His answer? “Why would I do that? I’d hate that. I like being here interacting with the people and watching my money do good things for the people in this community.”

Another time I referenced “his money.” He stopped me. “Oh Mark, this isn’t my money. It’s all God’s money. He’s just asked me to manage it for Him.”

This is the attitude a believer must take – whether they’ve got millions or merely hundreds in the bank.

–Mark Witas is the lead pastor at Sunnyside Adventist Church in Portland, Oregon. His reflection on Proverbs 3:9–12 appeared in Daily Walk, a Bible study series built around the sermons at Boulder Adventist Church in con junction with several other churches. Reprinted by permission. Email him at: [email protected].

by Heather Thompson Day

“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

When I was six years old I was told I would be taking the bus to school. I was immediately aware that this was a terrible idea; my father however, wasn’t following my line of thinking. I didn’t want to take the bus. There were giant children on them, children that were hardly children at all. There were mean, unruly boys who I knew would pull my ponytail and call me names. Plus, there were weird kids, and who knew who I would be forced to sit by?

I walked out of my bedroom and began to eat my break- fast; the realization of what was about to occur took full heat over my body and I sobbed. I pleaded and begged with my father not to make me ride bus. I made deals and promises I knew I’d never keep. I offered to do everyone’s chores for a month, and he said we all needed to share the responsibility. I said he could deduct my allowance, which was only a couple dollars a week, and he said I should be saving. I said I’d get all A’s, which he told me was expected. I said I’d do the laundry, dry the dishes, wash the car, and walk the dog, and he reminded me that I would be doing those things anyway, plus, we didn’t own a dog.

I grabbed his arm and pulled my hair. I stomped my feet and let snot fall from my nose. I told him I’d do anything as long as he’d keep me off that bus. Regardless, there I was ten minutes later, waiting at the bus stop. I watched the leaves roll past my untied sneakers and reached for my dad’s hand. I had convinced my father to walk me to the bus stop, even though it was right behind our apartment building. I squeezed his hand as if I was checking for his pulse. My father was a man of few words anyway. He’d answer most questions with the nod of his head and somehow cram paragraphs into a sentence.

I was a complete daddy’s girl. I had spent years wedging myself into this man’s soft spot, and I couldn’t believe that he was turning on me now. I felt the sweat collecting underneath my armpits as that yellow bus rolled around the corner. Tears welled up in my eyes again, as I looked at my father one last time. I swallowed back the large lump that had collected in my throat and gave his wrist one last final squeeze as if to signal to him that if there was ever a time to save me, it was now. He leaned down over me and kissed my forehead.

“This is going to be good for you,” he whispered as the bus put on its brakes. “I’ll be here when you get off to take you home.”

I wanted him to change his mind. I wanted him to look in the windows and see all those children who were at least triple my size and realized they could kill me if they pleased. As he pulled his body upright, I clung to his neck.

“I love you daddy!” I squealed in his ear, half sincere, and half new war tactic. After all, I was desperate. I could feel my heart literally drop as I turned to walk onto the bus, admit- ting defeat. I wiped my tears as I found myself taking my place on the last seat of the bus. I pressed my face against the glass of the window. The chill of it bit my skin, and so I bit my lip and focused on my daddy. My father stood stationary staring at me as the bus began to pull away. The air began to mist and I kept my face pressed to the bus window as I found myself inching away from my father. He stood there, un- flinching, like an old cypress oak in winter whose roots are firm and solid.

It may have been my imagination, or the mist on the window, but I could swear that in that moment, I saw my father cry. I couldn’t be sure from the distance, but from where I was sitting, I could have sworn I saw tears fill his eyes and his nostrils flare. I had never seen him cry before. Not when I fell off the handle bars of my bike and the smack of the concrete filled my mouth with blood, not when I stuck to my story about not stealing the quarters from his change jar, even though he knew I had. Not even when I wrote him a poem I was certain would bring him to his knees. But then, from the seat of the bus he had put me on, I saw it.

Sometimes I think that God is cruel. There have been times that I catch myself wondering how He can watch me down here, going through all this turmoil and just stand still. I wonder why He won’t just leap in and save me.

To this day however, when I think of love, I think of my dad putting me on that bus. There will always be situations that take you outside your comfort zone, but you still have to get on the bus. It’s the bus that makes you grow. It’s surviving something you thought you could never get through, that makes you strong.

I understand this now. And in those moments when I wonder where God is, I press my face to the glass of that bus window and I see that through the mist, He is still there. With tears in His eyes, He is rooting us through it. And just like with my daddy, when the brakes push and the wind blows, when the ride is over and you get off stronger, He will be there, just like He promised, waiting to take you home.

“. . . Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us . . .” (Romans 8:35-37).

–Heather Thompson Day, PhD, is a communication professor at Colorado Christian University and author of six books, including Confessions of a Christian Wife. Email her at: [email protected]

By Nathaniel Gamble

In Reinder Bruinsma’s book I Have a Future: Christ’s Resurrection and Mine, readers are introduced to questions about life and death in a win-some, pastoral, and sensitive way. I Have a Future focuses on the meaning of death and the hope of life after death in the light of Jesus Christ. Bruinsma helps his readers face the reality and finality of death in Chapters 1 through 3, so that he can present the answer to death in Chapters 4 and 5: the resurrection of Christ, which is the foundation for our own resurrection and new, glorious life in the future. On the basis of Christ’s resurrection, Bruinsma details how we can live our present lives with hope and have assurance of a future life with Christ in Chapters 6 and 9, as well as better understand the nature of heaven and the truth about hell in Chapters 7 and 8.

While this work has several features to recommend it, perhaps its two strongest aspects are its treatment of heaven and hell. In Seventh-day Adventist presentations on the state of the dead, we often give heaven scant attention; generally, we are either highly neglectful of the promise of heaven, devoting only a limited amount of time to its beauties and reality, or leave it out entirely when discussing the nature of death. This move is theologically inappropriate, since it gives just as much of an unbalanced view on the nature of death as do articulations of the immortality of the soul.

Bruinsma provides a fantastic correction to this neglect. In Chapter 7, “Eternal Life: Heaven and the New Earth,” he enumerates several questions that people often ask about heaven and eternal life: whether heaven is simply a never-ending repeat of your favorite hobby; how we will spend eternity with people we love, without anyone ever becoming frustrated or annoyed with each other; whether our age in heaven is determined by our age at death, and whether we will retain distinguishing features like race, gender, sex, and height; what location will look like in heaven, given that the only locations we can envision are terrestrial ones; and how our spiritual bodies will function with respect to food and activity (pp. 144-146).

These questions are often uncomfortable to think about (which might be one reason why Adventists tend to avoid them in evangelistic presentations!), but they are absolutely essential to a better understanding of the full-orbed view the Bible has on life and death. And Bruinsma does not shy away from them, which makes this book all the more uncomfortable and an incredible contribution to biblical discussions about life and death. With theological humility and pastoral courage, Bruinsma admits that he doesn’t have answers to many of these questions; instead, he focuses our attention on Christ and the meaning of his resurrection for us, as well as the fact that Christ has promised to give eternal life to everyone who trusts in Him. According to Bruinsma, heaven will be an exciting place of reunions, growth, and discovery, though our final hope and home will ultimately be living in a recreated earth and enjoying a perfect relationship with God that includes unmediated access to his presence.

Bruinsma’s treatment of hell in Chapter 8, “Is ‘Hell’ as Terrible as People Think?” is likewise biblically balanced and spiritually helpful. Adventists often struggle with being fair to the doctrine of hell. In our zeal to present God as loving, we often pillory the traditional doctrine of hell as some- thing only spiritual sadists believe. Bruinsma will have none of this and presents traditionalists’ arguments for hell in a sympathetic manner: traditional proponents are primarily concerned with recognizing that sin is always against an infinite God (and thus has infinite consequences), as well as paying attention to a correct application of the concept of eternity in “eternal life” and “eternal damnation” (pp. 161- 162). Bruinsma’s fairness enables him to present what the Bible says about hell in an uplifting, Christ-centered, and joyful manner, which can serve as a model for how we talk about the subject with our neighbors and Christian brothers and sisters, who are not of our persuasion.

In light of these positive aspects, I Have a Future contains a peculiar hindrance to Bruinsma’s overarching focus on Christ’s resurrection. Bruinsma’s discussion of the nature of history and faith in Chapter 4, “He Is Risen,” tends to obfuscate the meaning of Christ’s resurrection for our knowledge of God. After discussing the historicity of Christ’s resurrection (pp. 64-76), the author addresses an important concern: how do we face the fact that we cannot know with absolute certainty that Christ rose from the dead? Bruinsma explains that the philosopher Alvin Plantinga offers him assistance in this respect: “He [Plantinga] acknowledges that there is no absolute proof for the essential Christian beliefs . . . . But, he says, there are enough reasons to accept those beliefs as ‘war- ranted’—that is, as reasonable and defensible” (p. 76). It is important to hold reasonable and defensible religious beliefs, but Bruinsma’s definition of a warranted belief overlooks what Plantinga says regarding the function of belief in our knowledge of God.

In his trilogy Warrant: The Current Debate (1993), Warrant and Proper Function (1993), and Warranted Christian Belief (2000), Plantinga articulates an epistemological function to beliefs: if beliefs can be shown to be reasonable and defensible, and if a person can be justified in holding those beliefs, then those beliefs can also be identified as proper knowledge—basically, warranted beliefs about God can help us know God better. The goal of Plantinga’s “warranted belief” was to help individuals not simply know the truth of something intellectually, but also see that they exist as a knower in a relationship with what is known. Bruinsma’s desire to have a reasonable faith is admirable, since the Bible calls us to have faith in God and know why we trust him. Nevertheless, defining a warranted belief as only having a good reason to believe a position tends to sap that belief of its ability to serve as part of our knowledge of God. This might seem like a small matter, but the tension it creates between merely believing something for good reasons (e.g., that Christ actually rose from the dead) and further recognizing it as part of the knowledge a person has about a subject (e.g., that you can know Christ because he is no longer dead, as well as trust that you have a future because he is now alive) is subtly felt throughout the remainder of the work.

Despite this apparent hindrance, I Have a Future is a fantastic book. It is easily accessible, theologically rich, and faithfully follows the thinking of Scripture. Similarly, it is written with an irenic spirit that is respectful of others’ beliefs while also being honest about what the Bible teaches. Bruinsma’s work is a good resource to give those who have questions about the meaning of Christ for life and death, and is a wonderful sharing book for new converts to Adventism, spiritual seekers, or use in a public evangelism series. Bruinsma succeeds in lifting up Christ and shoring up our faith in God by ably reminding us that, in Christ, we all have a promising future.

–Nathaniel Gamble is senior pastor of Fort Lupton Seventh-day Adventist Church and associate pastor of Aspen Park Seventh-day Adventist Church. He is in the Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) program at Calvin Theological Seminary, Grand Rapids, Michigan. Email him at: [email protected]

By Rajmund Dabrowski

“You shall love the stranger first of all because you know what it is to be a stranger yourself. Second of all, you shall love the stranger because the stranger shows you God.”

—Barbara Brown Taylor

Memories. One stands out from my days in England. But first things first. My church pedigree dates back to the early 1960s when I was baptized in a rather conservative faith community. My home upbringing was also “do this, don’t do that”—and my grandmother prayed daily that we be guarded from unwanted and bad people.

My early confusion with navigating on God’s earth was laced with a seeming dichotomy when I started attending public schools, surrounded by friends whom I was warned about in church and home.

I hoped that my liberation to authenticity would come when I went to England. I went to learn English, and then to study for a degree. Arriving from Eastern Europe, I soon learned what it means to be a stranger in the West. It was at the introductory evening that I was asked by Pierre, a Frenchman, whether we had TV in Poland. But Pierre and I became good friends. That question started a meaningful conversation. I liked a straight shooter, and discovered that for some people my [former] communist country was . . . strange as an unknown land.

The next moment I felt like a stranger within my faith family came a few years later when I went to worship at the New Gallery Center on Regent Street near Piccadilly Circus. I sat in a pew and noted a movement among fellow believers. They were moving to other pews. I guess they considered it strange that I had long hair and colorful 1968 attire. I guess colorful clothes created fear in those who preferred gray suits or muted dresses.

As I am writing these words, I cannot but note that fear of “the other one” is endemic and seemingly permanent. Yet, “stranger is a slippery word—you think you know what it means until you try to account for yourself. . . . Who we think is a stranger is an individual thing. It’s defined by culture and history,” writes researcher Kio Stark in When Strangers Meet, a companion book to her TED Talk.

Stark is correct in her challenge that people you don’t know can transform you.

A recent conversation in the church about making it more attractive and oozing with welcome, compassion, and kindness has created a bit of a tension among the participants. One of them said, “Actually the church is not for everybody. It’s about standards.” “Really?” I asked. “If that’s the case, we now know the answer to why members of Generation Z are not attracted to an unexplained terrain of capital R Rules!”

The prophet Isaiah (56:7) conveyed God’s view of who is welcome [and who is not, I guess] in His church: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

I wonder from time to time, why our pulpit has a sound- ing challenge: We welcome all, yet when a stranger comes in and wants to join the community, he is welcome, if . . . and when . . . On a daily morning walk with our dog Prince Orek in our neighborhood, we saw a lawn sign. It was in three languages—Spanish, English and Arabic—and three colors. Its message was appropriate for today: “No matter, where you are from, we’re glad you’re our neighbor.”

Among many others, All Souls Episcopalian Church in Washington, D.C., has adopted a more detailed message: “Love your neighbor who doesn’t look like you, think like you, love like you, speak like you, pray like you, vote like you. Love your neighbor.”

To initiate a personal change, one that can make a difference in your church, start talking to strangers. It can wake you up, opening your world wider. Start hugging them, like these two students offering Free Hugs in Cracow, Poland. Start loving them like Jesus did when meeting a woman at the well.

Find new love for and in the church. Bring the strangers in. Know no stranger.

–Rajmund Dabrowski is RMC communication director and editor of Mountain Views. Email him at: [email protected].

By Lonnie Hetterle

“It takes a village” is a phrase we’ve all heard suggesting that one parent, one family, one teacher, one pastor, one whatever can’t do it all. Its application to raising and educating our children is apropos. We need everyone working together to ensure that each of our children receives the love, the direction, the instruction that he or she needs. This has never been truer than it is today. The ready availability of all types of perversion, ugliness, and deceit assails our children on every side.

Now empty nesters, my wife and I can tell you how quickly those childhood years fly by. If there is one thing, I would like to impress on today’s young parents from my own sometimes hard-knock experience, it would be to relish every day with your child and make certain they are surrounded by the very best environment possible.

According to North American Division (NAD) president Dan Jackson, speaking at the 2019 year-end meetings, “You cannot separate education from the work of the church. [Some of our] best evangelists are often teachers.” More baptisms, he explained, come as a result of Adventist schools than evangelistic meetings. It is part of who we are genetically and spiritually. You cannot separate education from the work of the church. “If you kill the educational program (you) will kill the church,” Jackson stated, emphasizing the tremendous importance of Adventist education in the lives of our young.

Operating our schools, however, is a challenge. The financial part is always a stretch, but our biggest concern is the spiritual welfare of each child in our schools. I believe the devil works harder on our young people than on any other demographic in the church. That’s why it takes a village. That’s why we need to make sure caring, committed, and dedicated adults surround our young. Where else but in our own Seventh-day Adventist schools can our children find this? Where else can they be daily encouraged and instructed? It is in the sacredness of our classrooms that the Plan of Salvation can be fully explored and where the youth can make sense of a world of chaos and confusion as they shine the light of the Great Controversy on the moral decay they see. It is in this environment that each student can be loved, encouraged, disciplined, and guided toward productive adulthood and become a candidate for eternity.

While teachers and principals pour their heart and soul into the teaching of our children, administrators are left with the challenge of ensuring financial stability for our schools. The cost to educate a young person is never fully paid by tuition. If that were the case, our schools would become exclusive, an occurrence that flies in the face of our basic philosophy. Our synergistic efforts can accomplish things that are impossible individually.

Here is our challenge: The Rocky Mountain Conference has 116 organized churches of which approximately 27 are officially constituent churches for our schools, contributing to the support of their schools. That leaves 89 churches with no official involvement in providing Adventist learning for our children. Many of these churches are small, facing their own financial challenges. I must mention that several small churches contribute occasionally to Adventist education, for which we are grateful.

If each church or family would regularly do their part in supporting the education of our kids, they could make the difference in a child being able to attend our schools and grow into a future leader rather than being excluded from the influences of a Christian education. “There is no ministry more important than the education of our children,” states Ed Barnett, RMC president. I am proud of the work going on in the RMC schools.” Adventist education is a vital element of the church and one very worthy of our time, energy, and money.

If you don’t have a school near you, choose one near you or designate your help to either Campion Academy (our boarding school) or Mile High Academy (our only K-12 school) or another school of your choosing. Rocky Mountain Conference is currently faced with the challenge of raising just under one million dollars for worthy student funds. The funds you sacrificially give will be used carefully and responsibly, and your generosity can make a real difference in the life of a child. Thank you for including Adventist education in your giving plan.

–Lonnie Hetterle is RMC education superintendent. Email him at: [email protected]

By Shayne Mason Vincent

“A loved person can change, but a condemned person doesn’t even have the energy to try.” —Chad McComas

At the age of five, I would go with my grandma to this old country church, hidden away in a sleepy hollow called Cedar Valley. On cold winter days, while Jack Frost was doing his Michelangelos, l would sit in the back with the old timers, my numb toes burning under the whoosh of the wood stove. Those jolly old men made church just as warm as that stove. Inevitably, my attention would drift and my gaze would fall on this immense painting of the ascension of Christ keeping sentinel behind the pulpit. Whenever I saw it, it was like I could sense the Spirit in my bones. I can still smell the musty wood and brewing coffee of that happy memory.

The gentle joy those men showed me as a child planted a seed in my heart that ultimately led to me becoming a pastor. Having grown up without a father, their love helped me see that God could be my Father; as we read in Psalms 27:10 (GNT): “My father and mother may abandon me, but the Lord will take care of me.” And that is exactly what He did. Through all my years of ups and downs, He never left my side. The sense that the Lord was speaking to my heart never stopped. And when I had had enough, He called me back home again. I was the stranger who wandered through the doors of your church. Yet, I was no stranger to God.

What do we see in God’s missing children when they come home? Harshness, crudity, pride, flamboyance? One thing is for sure; they usually have better taste in music. But kidding aside, while they may be strangers to the myriad of our religious norms, God has known them intimately all their lives. They are the broken-hearted, whose wounds Christ is anxious to bind. They are the found, the seekers of hope, who long for more than empty promises. And I was one of them. The ones whose “sins—and they are many—have been for- given, so they have shown me much love” (Luke 7:47, NLT).

I found one of these secret children of God while working as a bereavement counselor in hospice. Like ministry, bereavement is a tender and careful work that demands intimacy with God. While counseling the inconsolable, the Spirit of God began to speak words of healing comfort directly into my heart. It was often so specific (and completely off topic) that I would apologetically say, “I don’t know why, but this is coming to me.” And without fail, they would begin to sob, and say, “That was exactly what I needed.” It started to happen so often that I became accustomed to running with it whenever it happened.

Over the course of time, I was counseling a woman who was grieving the death of her lesbian partner of twenty years. And as often happened, the Spirit of the Lord gave me a word for her. I sat in stunned silence as I attempted to process this: she was a lesbian, an atheist, and a Ph.D. from Berkeley, of all places, which is basically the Vatican for secular humanism. I said aloud in my head, “Really God?” So, I took the plunge and, as soon as I said it, she began to weep; that wracking kind of grief that comes from your gut. As is typical of our beautiful God, when I returned for our appointment the following month, she told me, “No, I’m good. What you told me was exactly what I needed to hear. You don’t need to come again.”

How amazing is our God?! That He would reach down from Heaven and speak healing directly into the broken heart of someone who may likely never follow Him! It was at that point in my walk with Christ that I stopped pretending to know whom God accepted and did not accept. Truly, God loves His enemies . . . and in this truth lies humanity’s greatest hope: “God proves His love for us in this: while we were still sinning, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, BSB). This is what the stranger who wanders into our church needs to know: that they are wanted. You see, the endless longing within us all is simply to belong. And that is what God is all about. We are the “called out” from a cruel and indifferent world to follow Jesus, whose entire life taught us that “the Holy Spirit produces a different kind of fruit: unconditional love, joy, peace, patience, kindheartedness, goodness, faith- fulness, gentleness, and self-control. You won’t find any law opposed to fruit like this” (Galatians 5:22-23, TVB).

Kicking up cold feet up in front of a winter’s fire, laughter, forgiveness, a deep conversation, sunsets, or just a hug. These are the gifts that God has given.

And so I make it my practice to hug people; especially those who carry a stench (perhaps metaphorically, as well). Because I recognize that clothes can be washed; it’s much more important that hearts be washed in the Blood. In our modern world: love, time, family, our communities, they barely exist. So, when strangers wander into our own churches in the vale, give them a taste of that Normal Rock- well painting I had as a child, where old men poke at your ribs, old friends share a laugh, and young lovers snuggle by the fireside. And perchance, in that magical place of grace, the Spirit of God will speak directly into their hearts as well.

–Shayne Mason Vincent is lead pastor, Casper, Wyoming District. Email him at: [email protected]