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By George Crumley

Waking from a restless sleep, I wandered down to the quiet of my home office. No quick prayer would be appropriate for all that was on my mind. I needed answers. I was asking God to help me in areas that were work-related, for His intervention in the lives of others. I also had a few requests for me personally. The concerns that I presented to God were gathered from recent events, and there seemed to be no possibility for good outcomes in any of them. My imagination invited the fear of what could happen if God did not intercede and focused my thoughts on these seemingly unending problems.

The clock ticked loudly in my mind, reminding me that it would soon be time to leave for work, so I got up from my knees with a lingering doubt that anything would be resolved. I accepted that nothing would change today.

I proceeded to pick up my Bible and sat down to flip through its pages in an effort to quickly ignite the spark of encouragement that I had found so many times before.

As my eyes scanned over a familiar verse in Matthew, my reasoning was awakened to a bigger picture. I read the familiar words that said, “And she shall bring forth a Son and thou shalt call his name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21 KJV).

When Jesus was here on this earth, most people searched for Him because of what they had heard He could do for them. If there was a possibility for healing from a devastating and painful illness, they came. If there was potential for the deliverance of a loved one from the torturing influence of demons, they came. If there was the prospect of freedom from unbreakable Roman oppression, they came. They came to find relief from what bound them to hardship, from what they were powerless to change, from what was destroying their happiness and peace. This momentary thought connected me with those who lived before me—I too was looking for deliverance from things that were weighing me down. My prayer was about me and how I could get rid of my burdens and fears.

“I’m sorry, Lord!” It was easy to see the selfishness in the stories of others, but I was now reminded of it in my own experience. I don’t know how He works, but with that simple acknowledgement, enthusiasm and thankfulness replaced the burdens. Although circumstances had not changed, the words “I’m sorry” reconnected me with the Source of One who could provide the best outcomes. Worry dissipated, and I felt immense gratitude to Him for what He would do through His wisdom and power. He had become more than my good luck charm for the day, more than my fears and more than my doubts. He had indeed helped me to see that the burdens of life are made so much lighter when I allow Him to take His rightful place in my heart.

–George Crumley is RMC vice president for finance.

By Ron Price

Gary Thomas wrote Sacred Marriage, subtitled “What if God Designed Marriage to Make Us Holy More Than to Make Us Happy?” He sees marriage and the family as wonderful living laboratories in which we can refine our desires and choose to serve others more than ourselves. I believe the Church is God’s sacred tool to help make us holy as well. The church is a perfect environment to practice Christlike, selfless service to others; to practice putting others’ needs above our own, and to find our greatest joy in pleasing God and others more than ourselves.

While God’s plan is perfect, we can all admit there is much wrong with how we carry it out. Church conflict should be the greatest oxymoron of all time, yet it is too frequently a painful and disheartening reality. Although there could be many reasons for specific church conflicts, Dr. Larry Crabb has identified the true explanation at the heart of each and every one. In his book Men and Women: Enjoying the Difference, Dr. Crabb suggests that at the root of all sin lies self-centeredness. I challenged his view at first, but have come to believe he is correct.

Take any sin you can imagine and trace it to its base cause and you will likely find self-centeredness. I believe the same is true for conflict among brothers and sisters in the church.

We come together once a week and join in singing “Have Thine Own Way, Lord,” but then choose to live “Have My Own Way.” We sing “I Surrender All” with relish, but often live “I Surrender Some.” I like to sing the modern song “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” written by Paul Oakley. The first line reads “It’s all about You, Jesus” so why do I often live as though “It’s all about me?”

The world says “Look out for number one”—obviously referring to oneself. God says “Look out for Number One,” obviously referring to our Savior Jesus Christ. If you’re look- ing out for yourself, you have every right to get upset about the color of the carpet, the style of worship, or being over- looked for a church position. If the focus of your life is on serving God and furthering His cause, I dare say you have no right to get upset about any of those things.

A favorite text for many is Gal. 2:20: “I have been crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live, but Christ lives in me and the life I now live I live by faith in the Son of God Who loved me and gave His life for me.” If I read that text correctly, the essence of the Christian life is that Christ died that we might live, we are therefore to die (symbolically and relationally) that He might live in and through us. Sounds like a good deal, yet it does not appear to be so simple to live out.

John Bevere writes about this in his wonderful book The Bait of Satan. While Mr. Bevere does not write from an Adventist perspective, I believe he has identified a common cause of listless Christianity, weak faith, and conflicts within the church. We learn about Jesus and grasp—as best we can— all that He did for us. In response, we willingly, joyfully commit to serving Him and His purposes only. This is celebrated in Heaven, but not so much by the opponents of God. The enemy and his minions double their efforts to undo our decision and get us to recant and return to self-centeredness. And thus the battle rages moment by moment, month by month, year by year, decade by decade.

As the saying goes, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is the battle is not going to lighten up. It is going to intensify big time leading up to the glorious return of our Savior. We better be prepared for this, or we are in for some really big defeats. But the good news is Great News. Read your Bible all the way from Genesis to maps and you find out that we win! So long as we remain in a surrendered state and accept Christ’s sacrifice, we have nothing to fear for the future.

Am I suggesting we should all become doormats and place “kick me here” signs on our backsides? I sure hope not. But I am suggesting that our churches, our homes, and our lives would be much more peaceful and enjoyable if we all practiced true Christian humility and self-surrender.

Let me make some suggestions:

Daily renew your desire to follow Jesus and place Him on the throne of your heart and life. It’s difficult—if not impossible—to truly love Jesus and dislike others.

Daily seek His will and His marching orders for you, His soldier. Determine to be a vessel into which He can safely pour His grace, mercy, and love—knowing you will share them with others rather than hoard them to yourself.

Find a ministry to engage in deeply—this should not leave you with the time, energy, or desire to get upset with others.

Determine to practice true Christlike humility. Look at everyone you meet as someone for whom Jesus died and someone He loves. What right do you have to be upset and ugly with someone for whom Jesus your Lord and Savior gave His life?

I’m not saying this process is easy or that I have mastered the concept and practice it perfectly. But I am saying that my very best days are those when I do sing and practice “Live Out Thy Life Within Me, O Jesus King of Kings.”

–Ron Price is a member of the RMC executive committee from Farmington, New Mexico. His new book is Play Nice in Your Sandbox at Work.

By James Murdoch

Identifying markers of privilege:

White
Male
Age 18-35
Heterosexual
Tall
Able-bodied
Natural-born U.S. citizen
Native English speaker
Middle-class
Access to education
Christian
Full-time employment with benefits

I am privileged. I often do not feel privileged, but there is no avoiding the factual evidence. I am privileged.

I was bombarded on social media this month by a call to action. I was reminded of the realities faced by black Americans across the nation who have lost their lives to gun violence. I saw videos and images of young men dying, and observed the impact on race relations. I was reminded that the time for silence is over, and that I must make a stand and proclaim out loud that Black Lives Matter.

Because of my status as a young, white, able-bodied, English-speaking, middle-class Christian with a paid position which gives me access to a pulpit and a microphone, I must be willing to stand before an audience in lockstep with those gathering in major cities across the nation to publicly condemn the actions of certain police officers.

To say nothing is to load the weapons of racist police officers who continue to harass a population of black men all too familiar with brutality and second-class treatment. To falter at this time is to stand opposed to the Black Lives Matter movement, and pledge an allegiance to bigotry and hatred. To stand down is to fail to see the plight of the under- privileged and marginalized and to waste an opportunity, as a privileged person, to use my voice. To remain on the side- lines is to give credence to the actions of xenophobic and armed vigilantes.

To do nothing is to say that black lives truly do not matter.

I don’t often post my opinion on social media, often out of fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time in the wrong place. It is this fear that creates feelings of social impotence when entering the conversation on black culture.

The years I have spent being unsure how much black culture I am allowed to promote leave me feeling more helpless than ever. I was reminded that conversations on black culture stem from a struggle which I simply did not/could not understand, and therefore I should tread lightly when at- tempting to commiserate with my black friends. It became unclear as to whether a white person could speak of black culture at all, or if it must be referenced as “African-American culture,” as to use the word “black” was akin to using the n-word.

I grew up outside of black culture because I believed that to be the socially responsible thing to do. I was under the impression that I could only resonate with what was being said as long as I was willing to step outside when it was time to recognize that I wasn’t all the way in. With this mutually-agreed-upon distance, there was never much time to practice defending a culture I was not inherently tied to or intimately coupled with.

But something changed. Something was corrupted. Something crossed the line. That something was a bullet. And then another. And another. And it came from one side and was fired over to the other.

A lot happened after that initial shot, but the one thing I didn’t count on was being blamed for the bullet because the lines remained in the field between black culture and white culture. I didn’t count on hearing that, because of a bullet fired somewhere down the line, the entire team would be penalized for its encroachment. I hadn’t counted on there being a need for an immediate response in order to be counted as one willing to step over the line once used as necessarily divisive. I hadn’t counted on there being a need for change in social status. I was unprepared and unpracticed for what happened next.

I never thought I was saying that “Black lives don’t matter.” I never meant for my message to be anything other than “Black lives matter.” I never wanted there to be a divide, but neither did I want to be the person who cried foul when someone asked for a little distance in a world where white, privileged men have taken so much. I never wanted to be afraid to speak up. But I am.

I believe that black lives matter. I know that black lives matter. Black lives matter.

I post this as a response to the call for the privileged to speak up when many have been unwilling to speak for those who are now unable to. But I do so with trepidation and anxiety that my voice is not the correct one. I do so with dread that my unrehearsed and unprepared rhetoric will be seen as racially insensitive and bigoted. I do so with apprehension that I will somehow make things worse, as there have been too many times when acts of commiseration were met with skepticism and suspicion. I do so knowing that I am entering into the game late and from the wrong side of the field. I do so with fear that my support will be taken as half-hearted and impotent.

I am overwhelmed by grief and sadness every time there is another story of tragedy in the black community. I am outraged at the incongruity of lives taken at the hands of officers assigned to protect and serve. I am disturbed by the lack of peace between the black and white communities. I am dismayed by the acts of violence that continue to disrupt this world.

I am privileged. I do not often feel privileged. But there is no avoiding the factual evidence: I am privileged.
I am, therefore, stepping out in faith and fear that there might be too few voices calling into the night for harmony.
I am unready for this moment and am going against all the voices in my head that tell me to wait and speak when I am more proficient on this subject. As I stand in solidarity and speak from my position of privilege, I ask for guidance, for wisdom, and for patience as I learn how to act and speak as a proponent of social change for a culture in which I am not well versed.

May all mortals, regardless of race, find ways to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God as one community.

–-James Murdoch is administrative pastor at Andrews University’s One Place congregation. He was associate pastor at Boulder Adventist Church until 2015 when he began studying at the SDA Theological Seminary in Berrien Springs, Michigan. This article is adapted with permission from a Facebook post.

By Nigel Abrahams

Of late, one topic that can be found in the headlines on any given day is race relations in the United States. While America has a less than stellar history in this area, things seemed to be improving until a string of high profile situations swept across the country. Suddenly, a pre-civil rights era tension began to build. There were more questions than answers floating around and, in one way or another, we are all impacted.

As a Christian and Black American, I sometimes find myself conflicted over the entire situation. I ask myself “What am I to do?” and the Christian answer is not always the same as the Black American answer. As a Black American, I have to remind myself that there are still those in this world who would choose to judge me by the color of my skin rather than by the content of my character. I must acknowledge that some of those sworn to secure my safety are indeed my greatest threats. I must be aware of the misconceptions by which I and others like me will be measured. And, as if all this weren’t enough, I know I will have to respond to many who will insist that all of this is nothing more than my own imagination running amok.

While these challenges are enough to make me want to retreat to a safe bubble, my Christian identity reminds me that the safe bubble is not an option. Though I may not always be judged by my character, it is still my duty to reflect Christ’s character. As a Christian, I must realize that I may be subjected to unfair treatment and turn the other cheek when it happens. I am called to live a life that challenges the world’s misconceptions of those who claim the name of Jesus. None of this can be done from within the confines of a safe bubble.

Fortunately, there is some common ground between my duelling identities. Both feel the pain of merciless mistreatment by others. Both are appalled that mankind could use something as insignificant as skin color as a reason to be less than neighborly. Both recognize the enemy is not the man in whom the hatred is manifest, and both know this struggle has existed in one form or another since the true enemy told his very first lie. It is through these commonalities that I can find the answer to my daily question.

I am not the first to ponder exactly what I am to do. When Israel faced a similar predicament, Micah answered it with another question. “And what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8). Again my duelling identities find common ground. Both can support the idea of justice being fairly administered to all those who would exercise poor judgment in their choices. And both would be happy if mercy were a value on which our behavior toward one another was based.

We all must ask ourselves this daily question and deter- mine if we will retreat to our bubble or answer the call to represent the true nature of Christ to the world. Will we stand idly by or step up for justice? Will we excuse ourselves from the situation or let mercy influence our actions within it? Perhaps as we answer these questions and influence the world around us, we can start filling the headlines with news of love making a comeback.

–Nigel Abrahams is a member of LifeSource Adventist Fellowship. He works as an information technology analyst in the financial services industry and fills his free time with golf, bowling, and motorcycle rides.

We asked two young people, representing two diverse cultures, to share their views on how community life interfaces with their church, family life and society at large: Are we inclusive or exclusive in our everydayness? Here are their comments.

Creating an Inclusive Church

One of the last words to come to my mind when I think of my local Adventist church is “exclusive.” My Adventist community of believers in the small town of Olathe, Colorado, is fairly open to the public. I’ve seen many people walk through the doors of my church building Sabbath morning, and I’ve watched the enthusiasm and warmth of my church family in receiving them. However, I wouldn’t consider this detail alone to attribute an inclusive attitude to my Adventist community.

An inclusive Adventist community goes beyond merely smiling at people when they wander into Sabbath morning services. An inclusive community involves itself in the lives of the community by taking initiative. In my church’s experience, holding events that bring the community into the church is not as effective at creating an inclusive atmosphere as creating events in the community itself.

One program that my church held in the community was a cooking class. We chose not to have the classes at our facilities. Instead, we held the series at a community center in the next town, Montrose, since many of our members live there. Our aim was to create a presence, a sense of aware- ness that, “Hey, we exist! And we would like to do stuff together.” The class was widely successful, not because it generated baptisms, but because the church taught some- thing practical to people living in the city—and even within the very neighborhood where we held the meetings. It raised a sense of awareness in the surrounding area, and people associate our church family with friendliness and genuine care for people who don’t (ever!) attend our church.

It’s been years since our first project and we’ve ventured out with different ideas since then. We even had a crocheting class. All of the classes created bonds of friendship, and some led to Bible studies—some even to baptism—but our main goal was met simply by going out into the community.

It is also important to be inclusive within the congregation itself. An often under appreciated form of inclusion comes simply from inviting members to help with church services. Even when I was a young person, my church was unafraid of involving young people in church programming.  Children pick up the offering and Friday night vespers is led out by people of all ages. We try to harbor an inclusive spirit through keeping track of where everyone is. If someone is sick or unexpectedly fails to show up one week, the Adventist community shows genuine concern. Members often visit one another or hold events at their homes to create a familial atmosphere.

Perhaps one of the most important practices that creates an inclusive attitude in my Adventist community is that of always having a family or two prepared to host people in case a visitor comes to church Sabbath morning. After the service, the church member will invite the visitor home for a meal. We prepare this way so that the interaction with the visitor doesn’t have to stop after the sermon.

Inclusivity involves a variety of attitudes and actions that create a positive feeling of belonging. It’s no use being inclusive to those who are visiting if the church leadership is exclusive in its view of who can serve. It’s not meaningful to reach out to the community in the city if the community in the church doesn’t seek its own backsliding members. I pray the Adventist community of believers will not be exclusive, for the gospel commission itself is inclusive.

Eliezer Roque-Cisneros is a senior theology major at Union College.

Inclusive Local Community

A healthy community is one in which people have good physical and emotional health. But health is more than just the absence of illness. A healthy community offers a high quality of life and takes a holistic view, recognizing that everything is connected and that the whole is more than just the sum of its parts. Community development is therefore connected to spiritual growth.

Spirituality is a powerful factor in shaping decisions and actions. We know that every religion teaches values that can be practiced in daily life, along with lessons from scripture. By applying what we learn from scripture to our relation- ships with others, we have a greater chance of producing a pleasant and cohesive community.

In my hometown of Kota Marudu, in Sabah, Malaysia, there are Seventh-day Adventists, Anglicans, Roman Catholics, and members of many other denominations. We even have Muslims. In fact, Muslims make up the religious majority of Malaysia, and most of them live on the peninsula of Malaysia. In spite of our diverse backgrounds and beliefs, we live in peace.

To me, having respect is an essential part of every community. Not only respect for others, but also respect for their religions, too, so that their ways teaching or praying are not mocked. In my city, we have that kind of respect and it is one of the characteristics that leads to our peaceful community. When I was in primary school, my friends liked to make fun of each other and their religions. But as they grew up, they realized that religion is a serious and sensitive matter. They stopped mocking anyone’s religion.

Another aspect contributing to my community here is toleration and understanding. Aside from hosting more than just one religion in our city, we also have a variety of ethnicities—including Chinese, Indians, and those from various other backgrounds. As we all know, having a group of people of different cultures mixed up in one place could spell disaster. But with toleration and understanding, we are able to put our differences aside and live in unity.

For example, Hindus believe in rebirth. As for Muslims, they celebrate Hari Raya after a month of fasting as a symbol of forgiveness, fellowship, and food. During the whole month of fasting, they can’t do certain things like pick their nose, say awful things and so on. The Chinese believe that it is bad luck to sweep the house during the celebration of Chinese New Year. By communicating these customs with one another, we are all able to understand where others are coming from. This matter applies to both culture and religion.

I believe that the most important thing to have is love, and this is the major contributor to our healthy community: love for one another, our religion, our God, our country. Nothing can be fixed in this world without love and consideration. Scripture is clear: If we want to experience God’s presence, we are to seek Him through His words, His Holy Spirit, and through relationships with others—our community.

Kota Marudu is a small city in which everyone knows each other. And because of that, we know when something is wrong with our neighbors. In July 2015, my father had an accident and broke his right leg. Word spread and people came to visit us for moral support, and some even offered financial help. We were very thankful for their kind gestures. Since we couldn’t go to church for weeks, people brought the church to us by worshipping at our home. Their consideration allowed us to experience God’s presence through them.

A healthy community can improve our spiritual growth. God wants to help us in life. He wants to listen to us, but He’s not necessarily going to show up in an angelic form. He sends a friend, a brother, a sister—the community.

Anneariana Pam Poimon attends the Adventist College of Nursing and Health Sciences, and writes from Kota Marudu, Sabah, Malaysia.