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By Vicky Blisserd-Carrick

Habakkuk

If my life holds no promise of fulfillment,

And my dreams are never realized,

Though earth’s remedies bring me no health

And my life’s cherished work comes to nothing.

If my home offers me no refreshment or rest

And I face old age all alone,

Still, I know You will be my source of gladness

And remembering Your grace and faithfulness

Will be my constant joy.

Across the Chasms . . .

Across
the Chasms
of my sins,
my companion throws the shadow of his cross.
His steady hand upon my shoulder makes
Of that slim,
Dark stripe
The Way
From where
I am . . . to
That place
as yet
unknown
where he
would have
me go.
Under the
burden
of that hand,
I find . . . that I . . . am strong,
And unafraid to walk the Narrow Way.

–Vicky Blisserd-Carrick spent most of her life in the Willamette Valley, Oregon, before coming to Colorado. She is a graduate of Laurelwood Academy and Walla Walla College (now Walla Walla University). She and her husband Ron are members of the Grand Junction Seventh-day Adventist Church where she currently serves as head deaconess, and they host a small fellowship and study group in their home. She has four grown children scattered in Arkansas, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Montana. Email her at: [email protected]

By Andy Nash

In the winter of 2008, my wife Cindy and I studied the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation—from tree of life to tree of life—with our daughters. That summer I baptized our girls in the Jordan River.

I was not a pastor at the time. (My invitation to pastoral ministry came later that same year) I was simply an Adventist church member and an ordained elder. But I could find nothing in Scripture that prohibited me, as a disciple of Christ, from teaching and baptizing my own children. In fact, I’d found just the opposite. Prior to stepping into the Jordan River, we had visited the Galilean mountainside where Christ spoke these words to His followers: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you . . .” (Matt. 28:18-20).

To whom did Christ speak these words? Ellen Write writes: “The Savior’s commission to the disciples included all the believers. It includes all believers in Christ to the end of time. It is a fatal mistake to suppose that the work of saving souls depends alone on the ordained minister. All to whom the heavenly inspiration has come are put in trust with the gospel. All who receive the life of Christ are ordained to work for the salvation of their fellow men. For this work the church was established, and all who take upon themselves its sacred vows are thereby pledged to be co-workers with Christ” (Desire of Ages, p. 822).

The gospel commission to teach and to baptize is for all believers. None of us would disagree that, as church members, we are called teach others. But what about the other half of the commission—the call to baptize?

Traditionally, in our church, only ministers have baptized. While we encourage members to teach a child or a friend, they typically do not baptize that child or friend. Only the minister can do that—regardless how well the minister knows the child or friend. (I remember a local Adventist church frantically calling nearby Adventist churches, requesting that a minister come and baptize a new believer that evening; their own minister had to be out of town. There was no thought of the local elders and members who had actually studied with the new believer also baptizing the new believer.)

Why is this? Why shouldn’t a church member, a disciple of Christ who has studied with a friend or child, be the one who baptizes the friend or child? How can I find the words to express the overwhelming joy and privilege I felt that day in the Jordan—baptizing my own girls? What difference might it make in the lives of our church members if they realized that they could—and should—baptize those closest to them? How might this elevate their sense of calling as priests in the high priesthood of Jesus Christ?

But shouldn’t things be done in order—under the guidance and blessing of leadership? Of course, they should. Church members should always work in concert with the pastors and the conference, receiving approval for baptism and training in how to do it.

Like the church member Philip simply baptizing the one he studied with (Acts 8:26-40), why shouldn’t our church members do the same?

–Andy Nash is senior pastor of LifeSource Adventist Fellowship in Denver, Colorado. Email him at: [email protected]

By Carol Bolden

Have you ever met a child (maybe your own) who pretends to be an animal—a lion, a zebra, or a giraffe? It’s typical behavior for children under five to engage in this imaginary play while they’re exploring what it’s like to be someone else, to feel something else. This “theory of mind” they’re working on is an exploration of the idea that other people have thoughts and those thoughts can be different from your thoughts.

While this stage is appropriate for a child under five, as we mature, we hopefully move on from that stage to become more authentic adults, able to relate in authentic ways without pretense.

When life’s disappointments and hurts flood us, it can be natural to hide, to put on masks or to do whatever it takes to protect ourselves from further hurt. While this is a natural response, it’s not a healthy one. Authenticity comes from recognizing our frailties, from seeing our weaknesses, knowing that God is working in us to prepare us for His kingdom—to will and to do of His good pleasure.

Consider it a truism, but for Adventists, it’s especially important to be authentic. How else can we relate meaningfully with the world and communicate the vitally important truths we hold? How else can we have compassion for a world that hurts?

A healthy, authentic community of believers does life together, struggling with their own life issues and wrestling over truth, together. Their hearts are open and giving and the hurts they experience are recycled into the ability to show empathy for the hurting they meet on their path.

These authentic Adventists have been with the Author of authenticity, the One who knows them inside and out and loves them still. His love and compassion for them is the catalyst for their healing.

When Lot’s wife looked back at the burning city of Sodom, she was expressing her desire to hold on to her inauthentic ways. While we want to be the salt of the earth, becoming a pillar of salt accomplishes nothing. The authentic Adventist is willing to look at their life and let go of the inauthentic parts.

When the authentic Adventist fails, he/she is quick to confess, to talk it over with God, ask for forgiveness and surrender again to the One who heals. It’s the authentic Christian who carries with them God’s healing power. They know that many people desperately need the help only Jesus can give and that they could be for them the critical link to Jesus.

Like Rabbit in the book The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams, when you’re loved enough, you become Real. When we allow God to love us in all aspects of our lives, that’s when we become Real. We become authentic.

–Carol Bolden until recently provided editorial support for the RMC communication department. Email her at: [email protected]

By Rajmund Dabrowski

Every Sabbath, my church worship ends with a special blessing. There are six elements to it. One of them says: “May Jesus bless you with courage, that you will dare to be who you are.”

Simply stated, when Jesus is All in your life, your personal authenticity is founded in Him.

You and I are Christian by choice. We volunteer to follow Jesus. We join a band of believers because He is All. In Luke 9:23 [The Message] Jesus says: “Then He [Jesus] told them what they could expect for themselves: ‘Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat—I am.’”

Grazyna is my guru when it involves healthy nutrition. Michal, our son, is a master acupuncturist. A while back, in my typical expression of authenticity, I asked them: “Tell me, can I be too healthy?”

“Oh, dad,” Michal responded.

All I did was ask a stupid question. My authentic inquiries allow me to be myself even when my questions go beyond common sense inquisitiveness. It’s like a child asking why the color of orange is orange? Oh, how much more I have to learn to deal with pretense in my own life.

When reading the Gospels, we often wonder why it is that we mostly understand Jesus and His parables, but His twelve companions had such a hard time with understanding and He often took them aside to explain what they did not understand.

In our 21st-century inquisitiveness and eagerness to peek into the kitchen, we want to know and challenge each other to be the first to know. Likely, He told them what we can only imagine He would have said, and our imagination leads us in many directions. He was a patient revealer of hidden things. What if He told them not to be a part of what were wrong conclusions? Would He tell them about fake or correct conclusions, shallow or precise and deep explanations? His professorial knowledge was breaking the glass ceiling of the impatient, short, and dismissive responses they were eager to offer. Oh, they had lots to learn, I conclude with a gleam in my eyes. They were like me!

Returning to authenticity . . . for many us, being authentic is a challenge. Among the challenges is the seeming discrepancy between what we reveal in private and how others see in us in public. We hide our emotions. We spin our language. We are silent about what we see and experience. We hide behind God and His judgment, leaving mercy aside. When reading Scripture, we prefer to return to our favorite texts, skipping those passages that make us feel uncomfortable.

On one occasion when visiting a small congregation in Wyoming, a congregant interrupted me and asked if I read the chosen Bible passages in a particular version. “You need to read the KJV,” he stopped me. Perhaps I need to go to the KJV again, I reflected later. But, why limit your quest for authentic Christianity to selective thinking, living and reading Scriptures in one version only?

Eugene H. Peterson writes about growing up in our Christian life, in which the declared words would get wings to fly, to walk, and to live. He writes that “We are only capable of renouncing a false life when we are familiar with a real life. Those years of association with Jesus for the disciples, years of ‘growing up,’ were years of realizing in sharp and precise detail that life is what God gives us in Jesus: grace, healing, forgiveness, deliverance from evil, a miraculous meal, the personal presence and word of God.”

If you are reading this commentary, you are likely a Seventh-day Adventist. And being one, I am sure you wish to see an authentic representation in what the faith community to which you belong believes and practices. I often ask myself: Are you a true reflection of what you believe?

How do we express what is behind our church’s name? What is behind the name, Seventh-day Adventists? An authentic keeping of the Sabbath is much more than going to church on the seventh day. And the Second Coming of Jesus is more than repeating the formula that he is coming soon. Therefore, consider that authentic Adventism also includes reflecting who we are, what we believe and practice.

Or maybe we’re actually hiding who we are when we call ourselves just . . . SDAs.

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