09 Jan

HERE BY GRACE (AND INFORMED CHOICE)

My parents were Seventh-day Adventists. Dad was the head elder in my early years, then, when I was eleven years old, he followed a call into ministry. When eighth grade rolled around for me, he was through college and into his first district as a pastor. Mom was a church schoolteacher for a few years. My brothers and I went to church school then boarding academy. I was baptized on May 3, 1969, by Elder George Carter. By all outward measures, I have essentially always been an Adventist.

And I believed it. Always. Not that I didn’t wonder about one thing or another, as we all do, but ultimately, I accepted it as I learned it. So, by all inward measures, I was also pretty much always an Adventist.

But what I did not know until later was that, in reality, I was an Adventist by inertia. I was set on a course, and nothing interrupted it, so I just kept going in that direction with less thought than I would likely have admitted to myself. Until I came upon something that threatened
to change course for me.

Every generation seems to face challenges to our faith. For my generation, it was the writings of Dr. Desmond Ford, a professor of religion at Pacific Union College. I was only vaguely aware that some were questioning basic teachings of our church, but I had no real interest because I was an Adventist. As far as I was concerned, those who didn’t accept what we taught were welcome to form their own denomination.

Then someone passed on some articles to me and asked me to read it for myself. Well, why not? Honestly, I didn’t even know which of our doctrines were in dispute. Maybe it was time to find out.

What I discovered was a system which accepted the timeline of the prophecies of Daniel but disputed that the investigative judgment began in 1844. In its place it offered … nothing. (A conversation years later with a member of the Biblical Research Committee who met with Dr. Ford at the Glacier View Conference confirmed that he had no idea whatsoever what the prophecy pointed to.)

I was irritated at the sleight of hand perpetrated by declaring something false but not presenting anything as truth, but something even bigger was at work. Deep from within me, a true believer, a Seventh-day Adventist who know what we believed and fully embraced it, rose up to declare that this was heresy.

Until that point, this had been my father’s religion. I only thought it was mine as well. It was when I examined it for myself, not as a class assignment but on my own and for my own reasons, that inertia was replaced by choice. I’m not here to keep peace in the family, or because I don’t know where else to be, or any other reason but that I choose this because I believe this.

So many of you know exactly what I mean because you also came to a point, whether raised in the church or having learned of it after childhood, where you made a conscious choice to belong. It’s good to reflect, from time to time, that you do have choices, and that this what you continue to choose.

But let’s not focus on what we have done to the exclusion of what He has done. Because, as the title of this piece indicates, it is not just informed choice that makes a genuine Seventh-day Adventist. We only have that choice because of the grace of God.

It was His grace that I grew up in a family that believed in God. It was His grace that they taught me to believe in the Bible as the source of Truth. It was His grace that the Holy Spirit spoke to me as I learned what the Bible stated, gently saying, This is the way; walk in it (Isaiah 30:21, NIV). It was by His grace that I was able to see error. Even the freedom to make a choice for myself is fully dependent upon the grace of God.

Your journey is likely quite different, so looking back you will no doubt find grace in other ways than what I received. But The grace has been there for each of us, so that we are not here only by choice, but because God has opened the way.

But there is more to my religion than the grace I received and the choice I made to believe. Grace and choice change everything, and I see that in my church.

So many times, I have seen the love of Jesus shine through people whose lives have been transformed. True, I have seen some of the most un-Christlike behavior in people who share the same beliefs, but whose hearts have not been touched by the grace that God offers. I suppose that is to be expected, because if the devil did not make every effort to infiltrate us then he would be doing a poor job indeed. Examples abound. But there are also examples of kindness, patience, humility, service, and piety, you will find those in abundance as well.

Sometimes it takes an outsider to remind us of what a blessing our church is. While a graduate student, I was driving a guest of the university to the airport. His job, on behalf of the U.S. government, was to make sure that aid to countries in South America actually did some concrete good. If we paid for a bridge to be built, he went to see if it was there. We were chatting about some topic I have forgotten when I mentioned my church in passing. He asked, with clear interest, what church I attended, and I told him. He repeated, very slowly and thoughtfully, “Seventh-day Adventist.”

Here it comes, I thought. What false impression was left on him by one of our graceless representatives? But it was out there, and I would put up with whatever followed, because by now this was truly my church, and I would take my lumps with her. But he surprised me.

“You people do a wonderful work. Everywhere I go I find Adventists doing important things to help people, and many times it is stuff no one else is willing to do. I am always honored to meet a Seventh-day Adventist.”

It is a really big deal that the fruit of the Spirit so lives in our people that we will do things that leave such an impression on an outside observer. It’s not always that dramatic, but the fruit is there. Sadly, there are also true stories of some egregious examples of falling far short of our high calling and doing damage to vulnerable people, for which I am sorry, but in spite of that the fruit still lives among us.

All the criticisms of leadership, diverted tithe, cutting words in the church lobby, and indifference of those who have inertia but no grace, cannot erase the evidence that our church is not just a set of beliefs. It is a denomination that endeavors to do important things that help people physically and spiritually. We do it in remote lands, in local cradle roll classes, in each other’s homes for game night, and in support of students who want to be in our schools. We do it in a thousand different ways because grace has fallen on us, and be believers so we become what our Father wants us to be.

How fortunate to belong.

Doug Inglish is the RMC vice president for administration. Email him at: [email protected]

23 Oct

THE TEMPORARY NATURE OF NORMAL

“This changes everything.”

Some forms of those words have been uttered countless times by people since creation when confronted with some mind-blowing development that redefined the known world. From the first writing to the latest artificial intelligence, our species has faced the realization that the current definition of normal has just been rendered inoperative.

I vividly recall the first time that I realized that everything had just changed. After watching a grainy live video of Neil Armstrong step onto the moon and declare, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” I went outside to look up at the moon in wonder. Day to day life might not be altered very much. Same house, same activities, same school. But the process of getting those men onto the alien surface of the moon would bring Teflon, Velcro, and satellite communications to the average consumer, as well as a shift in the balance of the Cold War that would lead to the end of the Soviet Union. I was aware of none of that at the time, but I did know that what we all thought of as normal was out the window.

You might think that the geopolitics of that change is the big picture, but, in reality, it’s not much more profound than the development of Velcro. Empires have risen and fallen since the Tower of Babel, and life goes on. Consequently, I think technological changes, even small ones, ultimately alter our lives more than the endless shifts in which army or culture is dominant at the time. No election has changed my life as much as the phone in my pocket that is more powerful than all the computers NASA had in 1969.

The really big picture is above human agencies. The unseen universe beyond our moon is aware that events on earth do indeed change everything, but those events are primarily beneath the notice of the vast majority of humanity, at least at the time it happens. Everything changed when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree. Everything changed when Jesus died on the cross. Everything changed when Martin Luther nailed his challenge to Rome on the door of the church in Wittenburg.

In the actual moment of those redefinitions of normal, very few noticed anything, though each eventually came to the attention of the whole world. In that same pattern, a little noticed event took place in 1818 that changed everything, but the process of coming to the attention of the whole world is not yet complete. I suspect that the universe beyond us was keenly aware that change was coming when William Miller’s eyes fell on Daniel 8:14: Unto two thousand and three hundred days; then shall the sanctuary be cleansed (KJV).

That was the beginning of the formation of the movement which would carry the message of Revelation 14:6-13 to the whole world. Seventh-day Adventists are a piece of the big picture, a proclamation that changes everything. We are here to reveal a new normal that the fall of empires, the rise of technology, or worldwide pandemics can never match.

Since this movement stepped onto the world stage, “normal” has shifted. It appears that Adventism is facing challenges that our parents and grandparents never imagined. I spent a significant amount of work time on things that I never saw coming as few as five years ago.

Consider the changes that the COVID lockdowns have had on the church. I drove nearly empty highways into the office, coordinating with others to minimize building occupancy, where I could only unmask at my desk with the door closed. I worried about how we could maintain a sense of community in churches that were not meeting at all, or, at best, had a handful of socially distanced worshipers broadcasting in the hope that many more at home were tuning in to the service. How long would this go on? Would we ever bounce back? How many would decide it was too easy to watch worship, and forever after, choose not to actively participate in worship? How many would not even do that much? It sure felt like everything had changed.

Don’t be too quick to say it all turned out fine. True, the fact that nearly every service is now live streamed is a blessing, as some who can’t attend now have more connection than before, and many are tuning in for the first time. Praise the Lord for all of that! But at some level, we must admit, we lost something along the way. Many became inactive, and some disassociated completely. To this day there are churches whose attendance has never equaled pre-pandemic numbers.

There are many other things that redefine normal in ways that affect the church, some to the benefit of our mission, and others that challenge our mission. For every advance in technology that provides a new way to share the Gospel, there are developments that seem to block our path. Truth has been reduced to a point of view, and many points of view once considered perfectly normal will now get you in trouble if you express them. It’s not just the humanities that are up for debate. The fundamental realities of biology, chemistry, and other sciences are proclaimed by the elites to be outdated and intolerable. How can we proclaim the truth of scripture to a world that declares even mathematics to be an artificial construct designed to subjugate unfavored groups? After all, if the formula 1+1=2 is debated, how do you assert that the Bible is reliable?

Welcome to Adventism in postnormal times. Where do we turn to for help in navigating the new reality?

The same place as always. Scripture. Let’s start with the Book of Jude.

In verse 7, Jude reminds us that tough times are nothing new, and there have always been people who will tell you that up is down, blue is red, and God can’t be trusted: Sodom and Gomorrah, and the cities around them in a similar manner to these, having given themselves over to sexual immorality and gone after strange flesh, are set forth as an example … (NKJV).

The author points out that in his own time, people were experiencing a new normal in the form of members who were causing dissension: For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation, ungodly men, who turn the grace of our God into lewdness and deny the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ (Verse 4).

Finally, he prophesies that at the end of time, the same troubles will be present: But you, beloved, remember the words which were spoken before by the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ: how they told you that there would be mockers in the last time who would walk according to their own ungodly lusts. These are sensual persons, who cause divisions, not having the Spirit (Verses 17-19).

Maybe our times, beset by mockers causing dissension, are not so postnormal as it feels. The same problems we face go back a long way. That’s good news because it gives us a model for navigating our challenges.

“Postnormal” may be a lot of things we never saw coming. It may be a world awash in astonishing technology and in denial of everything from the existence of God to the reality of gravity. It may be Christians who are so conformed to the world that they no longer care if the Bible supports their ideas. It may even be people who disbelieve many of our fundamental doctrines and would rather profoundly change who we are than to find a group more suited to their belief system.

But is any of that really new? Or is it more likely that Solomon was right when he said nothing is ever really new (Ecclesiastes 1:9). Even the technology that would have blown his mind is mostly just more efficient ways to travel, design, communicate, etc. But the real problems of a world gone mad (and churches not far behind) is older than Jude or Solomon.

That being the case, the way to relate to a postnormal world is still found in the Book of Jude:

But you, dear friends, must build each other up in your most holy faith, pray in the power of the Holy Spirit, and await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will bring you eternal life. In this way, you will keep yourselves safe in God’s love.

And you must show mercy to those whose faith is wavering. Rescue others by snatching them from the flames of judgment. Show mercy to still others, but do so with great caution, hating the sins that contaminate their lives (Jude 1:20-23, NLT).

That’s it. Stay faithful, show mercy, and hate the sin but not the sinner. It’s not easy, because it’s not normal. But it is how Jesus lived.

Doug Inglish is the RMC vice president for administration. Email him at: [email protected]   

 

03 Jul

MANAGING EXPECTATIONS

I had an acquaintance years ago who, upon being granted a driver’s license, received from his parents the gift of a car.

A new Car.

A new Chevy Monte Carlo, which in that era was a pretty sporty beast with plenty of power.

I, as it happened, was driving around an eight-year-old grandma car with over 100,000 miles on loan from by parents, which I had to share with my brother. And I was grateful for that.

My acquaintance was not grateful. He had dropped enough hints to his folks that he wanted a Firebird (sportier, more powerful, etc.), which they were capable of affording, and the Monte Carlo was a serious let-down. No matter how much better it was than what I had to meet my needs, he was miserable.

Lest you are tempted to think I offer up this comparison to extol my superior virtue even during my young adulthood, you have to understand why I was so grateful for that dependable but unexciting vehicle.

In preparation for serving as a task force dean in a boarding academy four states away, I bought my first car, and it was a sight worse than the one on loan to me that summer. But my dad, who could not afford to buy me any kind of car, switched vehicles with me while I and my brother worked at summer camp, so he could get the repairs needed before I left. And, even as a callow youth, I was aware that a dad like that was worth more than a solid gold Rolls Royce.

My friend had high, and unrealized, expectations. I had low expectations which were exceeded without me even asking. The reactions we each had were more the product of expectations than of the quality we had received. There’s a good lesson in that.

I have to admit, even in the matter of stewardship, the Bible can pump up our expectations quite a bit. Ask, and it will be given to you … (Luke 11:9). Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap (Luke 6:38). ... 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 (Malachi 3:10).

All well and good. I do not doubt any of those promises for one second. What I do doubt, however, is our ability to be clear on what is and what is not promised. I previously explored this topic in an article for our online publication, the NewsNuggets, and pointed out that we make a mistake assuming that the blessings are always in the form of financial increases. I don’t want to plow over that same territory again, but I think we can take some time to consider that, even when we receive financial blessings, we have to be realistic in our expectations.

I still don’t have a Monte Carlo. In fact, my current vehicle, like most of its predecessors, has more in common with the full-size Chevy my dad loaned me all those years ago than with the hot rod my friend was outright given. But here is the financial blessing: I don’t owe anything on it! I never owed anything on it because I bought it for cash. The non-financial blessings (though financial adjacent, perhaps) of my faithful stewardship, taught to me by God-fearing, frugal parents, include reasonable expectations of what I should be driving (new means “new to me”), careful planning to be able to pay cash, knowing someone who deals in salvage vehicles, and probably others I haven’t realized yet.

In particular, I want to focus on the matter of managed expectations. Because yes, the Bible that holds out all these too-good-to-be-true promises, also talks about expectations.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:11-13).

When I read that passage, I get the feeling that Paul wasn’t just managing expectations; he seems to have done away with them entirely. He didn’t expect anything out of life. Whatever came along, that was cool.

You could make an argument that Job had trouble managing his expectations. He expected that God should explain everything to him about why it all went so wrong. Which, since God never did actually explain that, maybe he was expecting too much in that regard. But at the same time, no matter how much he lost, his philosophical approach to total financial ruin is the legendary phrase, Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised (Job 1:21).

Moses could have had it all. Raised by his mother for the first few years, he was adopted into the royal family of Egypt, the most powerful nation on earth at the time, and trained in economics, warfare, philosophy, agriculture, architecture, and diplomacy. He was destined to rule. But ultimately, … when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter (Hebrews 11:24). He managed his expectations so well that he came to expect something entirely different, which was to lead his people out of the land that offered him everything. There were many bumps along the way, but he brought them there.

Paul was seemingly indifferent to financial circumstances. Job stayed grounded through gain, then loss, then gain. Moses turned his back on wealth in favor of something more permanent than even the pyramid that doubtless would have been his. What does all of that tell us about the blessings of learning to manage our financial expectations?

One of the most important mentors of my life, a man I still am in contact with, had a well-paying government job and three growing boys. When an offer that he did not seek came for him to be a Bible worker at literally a fourth of his salary, he was devastated, but knew that he was called. He and his wife sat their sons down and explained to them that daddy has an opportunity to serve the church, but it would mean giving up a lot. They wouldn’t get nice vacations, or as many meals out, or new clothes as often. The car would have to last longer, there would be fewer presents under the tree, and other things like that. When the truth was laid out, the youngest son simply asked, “But do you believe this is what God wants you to do?” When they responded that it was, he said, “Then do it.”

They did it. And it was a struggle. The bills were paid, but they were not always sure how. Bargains were discovered, help came from unexpected sources, creative meals were prepared with cost efficient ingredients. You probably know all the tricks they tried. And they prayed, and things worked out, but some days took a lot of faith to get through.

After about a year of living like this, during supper one evening, his middle son suddenly asked, “Hey, you remember when you guys told us that we were going to have to live with less after you took the new job?”

My friend had dreaded this moment, when the complaints would come out about how they didn’t know it would be this tough and was it too late to get the old job back, and who knows what else. So, he swallowed hard and said, “Yes, what about it?”

“When is that going to start?”

“Yeah, dad, when?” chimed in the other two.

All he and his wife could say was praise the Lord that their boys’ expectations were such that they didn’t even notice a change. Proof that people like Paul, Moses, and Job are still with us.

Faithful stewardship has many forms. Being generous to God’s work is only the most obvious form. Practicing some of the less obvious, such as managing expectations, comes with its own blessings.

Doug Inglish is RMC stewardship director. Email him at: [email protected]

26 Jun

BECAUSE HE GIVES

It’s a touchy subject. In our culture, it is considered impolite to ask people about their salary, their savings, or other matters of personal finance. Because it is, well, personal. It’s not anyone else’s business.

There are exceptions, of course. You discuss those matters with other people when you take out a loan, apply for a credit card, plan your estate, or set up a retirement account. We get past the awkwardness because it’s usually a discussion with a representative of an organization we chose to help us with a specific situation, instead of a close friend or relative. In fact, you might choose to get insurance from a relative stranger over working through your nephew the insurance agent specifically because you don’t want to disclose the value of your home to someone in the family.

Since the subject of me and my money is taboo for discussions with my friends and family, we get uncomfortable when the church wants to talk about stewardship. These are my friends, and some of them might even be actual family. Besides, I get along well with the pastor, so why meddle with that relationship by talking about my money?

Okay, I acknowledge all of that. But I do so in my capacity as the stewardship director of the Conference, who is responsible to talk about that touchy subject with people whom I consider to be friends. Friends who are involved in the same mission with me to tell the world about Jesus. And my responsibility to address this topic is not to the Conference who hired me to do it. It is, rather, to God who called me into ministry that I am responsible.

“Christ was an educator, and his ministers, who represent him, should be educators. When they neglect to teach the people their obligation to God in tithes and offerings, they neglect one important part of the work which their Master has left them to do … ” (Ellen G. White, Testimonies for the Church, Volume 5, p. 256).

So, there it is. My Master left me a work to do, and part of that work is educating people about tithes and offering. You know, stewardship. And not me only, but all who would bear the title of minister, whether employed as a full-time pastor or not, have this responsibility. If we represent him, we have an obligation to tell others the wonderful news that everyone who comes to Christ is called to be involved in the mission, and that part of that mission is accomplished by the joyful giving of those who are called.

I can’t imagine any of Christ’s followers who would say they don’t desire to be like Jesus. If we take His name by calling ourselves Christians, it is understood that we want to follow his example, do what he did, be like him. And what is at the core of who God is and what he is like, whether in the person of the Father, Son, or Holy Spirit?

“For God so loved the world that he GAVE … .”

The very nature of God involves giving. He gave us life, gave us a planet to inhabit, gave us his Son to redeem us. He continues to give us sustenance, relationships, hope. He will soon return to give us a way out of this mess we have made of all he has given.

God loves, so if you want to be like him, you must love. God forgives, so if you want to be like him, you must forgive. God is patient, so if you want to be like him, you must be patient. Whatever he is, if you want to be like him, you must also be that.

There is no denying that along with all of these and so many other attributes, God gives. It naturally follows then that if you want to be like him, you must give.

My fellow ministers in the various departments of the Rocky Mountain Conference take their responsibilities seriously, so we are putting out this issue of Mountain Views on that very touchy subject of money. It is our prayer that you can experience the joy of generosity in part so that we might all know that in giving, we become more like our Father. There are many reasons for us to give, but the best one I can think of is because he gives.

Doug Inglish is RMC stewardship director. Email him at: [email protected]

07 Mar

REFLECTING ON COMMON WORLDVIEW AND DIVIDED RESPONSES

I suppose it could be argued that there really is no such thing as a clearly defined, commonly held worldview that is embraced by an overwhelming majority of our members. Maybe in the strictest sense that is true, but I find that, generally, we do have a common worldview. Likely, other articles in this issue are going to address that more directly, but there are truths that we hold dear which inevitably inform our worldview enough to bring consensus on many issues.

For example, we believe there is both good (embodied in the persons of the Godhead) and evil (embodied in Satan and his fallen angels), and that this world is the battleground between them. I can’t imagine a Seventh-day Adventist who would disagree with that statement. That universally accepted concept shapes your worldview in a way that is common among not only other Adventists, but also those outside our faith community. Our worldview is similarly shaped by our belief in creationism, our rejection of eternal torment, our knowledge that loved ones who are deceased are not watching us, being active in our lives, or aware of our movements.

Often our common worldview is such that we have nearly identical reactions to situations. Most of us, if confronted with an evolutionary concept while watching a nature documentary, immediately recoil from the assertion, if only internally. Our concern over losing salvation is not due to a fear of burning forever. We would never entertain the idea of attending a séance. The worldviews that spring from the truth we know result in nearly all Adventists having nearly identical reactions to certain situations.

But …

… it’s not entirely universal. In fact, in some cases, we can have very different reactions that spring from a common viewpoint. I’m not just talking about the fact that some manage to live up to their desired reaction more than others. Our worldview calls on us to be good stewards of our personal finances, but people with equal incomes who support the church equally and have similar expenses don’t always have similar levels of savings. That’s not a matter of different reactions to the world view, that’s a matter of different levels of commitment to our shared value of saving. No, I’m talking about totally opposite behaviors as a reaction to a commonly held worldview.

Let me illustrate: as Adventists, we all believe that the earth was God’s gift to us, and that we have a responsibility to manage it wisely. This is based on the instructions God gave to the first couple when He placed them in dominion over earth. They were to take care of it, and it was to supply for their physical needs (see Genesis 2). We also believe that very soon, at the Second Coming of Christ, the earth will be destroyed (see Revelation 6). Those two truths lead to a worldview that says we are stewards of the earth, and the earth will be destroyed anyway.

I have witnessed very different reactions among my fellow Adventists to that worldview. On the one hand, some are very conscientious environmentalists. They donate to the cause, recycle, reduce their carbon footprint, and support measures to clean up our planet and deter further damage. The opposite reaction is found among those fatalistic folks who feel that such efforts can’t stop or even delay the inevitable. They are profoundly disinterested in what goes into landfills, they don’t adopt sections of roads, install solar panels, or save energy except as a personal economic benefit.

Most folks are not at either extreme end of the spectrum, but the majority of us pretty clearly lean one way or the other. And maybe you haven’t thought of it in terms of a reaction to your worldview of the earth as our current responsibility that faces inevitable destruction, but that is our worldview, and those reactions are both definitely found among our believers. The next time you dispose of a cardboard box in your usual fashion you probably, because I brought it to your attention, will be aware of how your choice is a reflection of your worldview.

The truth is, for all the nearly universal reactions we have to our common worldview, there is still a lot of room for people of good will to have very different reactions in certain circumstances, all still proceeding from that common worldview.

And it’s not always polar opposite choices we make. There are variations and layers and influencing factors. Since we agree that there is both good and evil, we develop a worldview that everyone is on one side or the other (fortunately our worldview there is free will, which means anyone can change sides). An extension of that worldview is the default assumption that politicians, no matter their stripe, land mostly on the same side of the line between good and evil, and I don’t need to tell you which side we assume. How does that worldview inform your choice when it comes to voting?

You might choose not to vote, and for a variety of reasons. You don’t want to be responsible for the inevitable evil that the eventual winner will perpetrate is certainly one I have heard many times. A lesser form would be that you don’t believe it makes any difference in the long run, but that too is a reaction to an Adventist worldview that the end times will unfold as God has foretold.

Or, with the same worldview, you can say that you have a responsibility to resist evil by voting for the person less likely to act in harmony with evil. My professor in graduate school referred to this as choosing the evil of two lessors and voting for his opponent. That may be the opposite of refusing to vote, but now a new layer gets added: which party? Again, Adventists of good will have different answers, and it’s not always one of the big two. Another layer is, do I vote for the party I mostly agree with, or pick the person I think will best lead us? Again, different Adventists will have different reactions, even though their very different choices all sprang from a common worldview: that there is evil in the world, and I am eligible to vote.

All of this is to say that while we can define a common worldview for ourselves, it doesn’t mean we are all going to do the same thing in every situation. And that is getting down to a core value that I pray we can all have as a common Adventist world view.

Tolerance.

There are people who share my worldview in this church whom I would trust with my life. I like to hang out with them, I like to discuss deep issues with them, I like to wash their feet on communion Sabbath. And yet, they don’t vote like me, treat the environment like me, or other things that are more than just matters of preference. The key to being friends with people like that is for both sides to follow the standard Jesus gave us in the Sermon on the Mount, namely, to judge not.

We need to get our heads around the idea that not every deeply held belief that I have, though it is informed by scripture and in harmony with my very Adventist world view, is a salvation issue that is going to condemn my fellow Adventists who conclude differently. I have to walk my path, keeping my eyes on Jesus, and letting Him be the judge.

I should be able to talk about those things with the people who disagree with me and still be friends, not lose my temper, and not condemn. I may not be able to see how their idea is in harmony with God’s ideal, but I need to be humble enough to believe that I don’t see it from God’s perspective. Maybe I’m right and that person is lost, and maybe I do have a responsibility to speak up for what I believe to be right. But there is a big difference between “I don’t agree with you, the Bible seems very clear on this” and “You are going to miss heaven if you don’t do as I do.”

And by the way, tolerance is not just for those who share my worldview but not all my practices. An Arab tradition (remember, Abraham was their father also) talks about a traveler whom the patriarch invited into his tent for a meal. When he did not give thanks to God for his meal, Abraham remonstrated with him about it. When the man indicated he was a worshiper of the sun, Abraham drove him away hungry.

That night God spoke to him in a dream and asked why he treated the man so poorly. “You heard him, Lord; how can I put up with such a man in my tent?”

The Lord replied, “I know all about him. I have put up with him in My world for forty years. Could you not tolerate him for one night?”

As I said, it’s a tradition, not a Bible story, so it’s not likely true. But there is truth in it, namely, that God is very tolerant of a lot of truly evil people. He is longsuffering, hoping that they will exercise their free will and come to His side. Driving away those who don’t practice things like we think they should is no way to bring them to repentance.

My Adventist worldview is something I cherish. It influences the choices I make, just as that same worldview influences you. If we can be tolerant of those within our worldview that make different choices, it’s good practice for reaching out to those who have different worldviews. May God grant us all tolerance of each other.

Douglas Inglish is the RMC vice president for administration. Email him at: [email protected]

21 Dec

IS IT WORTH IT?

Sometimes people do important things for reasons other than the obvious. I started wearing glasses in the third grade because my eyesight required it, but I have met people with 20/20 vision who wear them for reasons of fashion. That doesn’t work for me, or perhaps not you either, but let’s not judge.

So, is it possible to be a Seventh-day Adventist for reasons other than what would seem obvious? Sure. Some reasons I have heard are keeping the family together (relationships); I like the worship service/pastor/potluck (culture); I don’t know enough about any other religion (inertia).

None of those are particularly bad reasons, but I have to say that none of them would do the trick for me. Leaving would be a hard thing because it would disrupt my family and, yes, I would miss the potlucks. In my case it is also an employment matter, which, in some ways, is bigger than family or cultural concerns. But none of those factors have ever mattered enough to me to keep me in the faith. I think it is good sometimes to reflect on my honest and true reasons for being a Seventh-day Adventist, and I appreciate being asked to write this article, which takes me down that path once again.

This issue is all about things that strike at the heart of why I chose, and continue to choose, being a part of this denomination. It focuses on whether it matters on a practical level, apart from (but not necessarily unrelated to) whether I buy into our belief system. But that is where it begins: the simple fact that I believe our message, all 28 fundamental points of it, and neither my study of the Bible nor my study of other beliefs has shaken me on any of those points.

For me, and I hope for you as well, it is important that my justification for being a member goes beyond my acceptance of it as true, so that it has meaning in the here and now. Karl Marx famously referred to religion as the “opiate of the masses,” and by that he meant all religions, Christian or otherwise. He proposed that the promise of paradise induced people to tolerate suffering now, and, since he didn’t believe in any type of afterlife, he saw religion as nothing more than a way for one class to exploit another. What he observed was that for the vast majority, believing in something good tomorrow didn’t translate into better lives today.

Let me be clear that I am not a Marxist, beginning with my conviction that there is a God and there is a very real heaven. But he had a point that the promise of heaven, while it matters a great deal to me personally, doesn’t get me out of the toil and trouble during my threescore and ten and perhaps more (see Psalm 90:10). What does my faith, both as a Christian in the broad sense and as a practicing Seventh-day Adventist in the narrow sense, do for me now?

My answer is, Plenty. On one level, I have the culture: worship services I enjoy, a pastor I like, and potlucks. On a higher level, I have improved family relations and a career that has been meaningful to me. I have my cultural concepts challenged regularly had have been forced to adjust, and family relationships are always evolving, but my beliefs have provided structure and comfort even during those times of change.

On a still higher level, don’t discount the very real benefits that come from belief itself. Knowing truth brings peace because it gives me a lens for viewing world events, a promise of something better (Marx couldn’t understand it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real), and a sense of purpose.

Those things don’t come cheap. Adventism may be my heritage, but for it to really be mine, at some point I had to consciously choose it. That point came while I was in an Adventist college, fully believing that I was already an Adventist and would remain so. Then I got blindsided with a challenge that changed everything.

There is always some wind of doctrine blowing through the church that strikes at our fundamental beliefs on one or more points. In the early 1980s, it was Desmond Ford challenging our interpretation of Daniel, which spilled over into our Christology, understanding of salvation, and other key points of doctrine. Someone I thought of as a committed Christian invited me to join in that challenge to our prophetic understanding and presented material containing the arguments.

I am happy to say that, from the outset, the arguments looked weak and easily answered, and, subsequently, I have seen that our church answered those questions long before Dr. Ford was even born. From that experience forward, Adventism was not just what I had been taught. It was what I believed, down to my very core, in a way that approaches what Jesus defined when he said that to be worthy of him, we have to place our love for him, our faith in him, our belief in him, higher than family, work, or life itself (see Matthew 10:37-38).

All good and well to truly believe, and some might even say that would be enough. But there’s more! The most meaningful part of being a Seventh-day Adventist Christian, in the here and now of all this toil and trouble, is that it has been and continues to be a medium through which I know my Savior better and better. You may well achieve that in other belief systems, but not only does this one square with the scripture in ways that others do not, I have found that it presents Jesus clearer, more accurately, and more deeply than anything offered anywhere else.

That even includes my own personal study of the Bible. Passages that might have given me struggles are clearer due to the understanding brought to me by my denomination. For example, I would never have comprehended the prophecies of Daniel on my own. Scholars, not all of them from our faith tradition, have interpreted the various parts of it in a way that makes sense. And while there remains even within our church some debate over certain points of prophecy, the accepted parts fit together perfectly. I may have been confused on my own, but I see it clearly as explained by our church. By contrast, my study of how those parts are interpreted by other religions has left me unconvinced.

That goes for many passages beyond the prophetic parts of the Bible. Believe me, I have taken skeptical approaches to our beliefs, trying to see if I could knock any of them down. Not from a desire to turn my back on my religion, but rather like a plumber who checks for leaks after a repair. He doesn’t want to find any, but he has to be sure they aren’t there. I’ve checked for leaks in our beliefs, and I can’t find any. Through them I have a closer walk with Jesus, and that walk changes me.

Even when I am not aware of it. As a graduate student in a public university, I was not shy about who I was and what I believed. I can’t say I was actively proselytizing, but people knew, and questions were asked and answered. One day shortly before I was to graduate, some question arose about whether I had done all the requirements. It turns out I had, but, since the outcome was uncertain, the department chairman said he would look into it, then left the room.

As soon as he was out of earshot the administrative assistant went into a rant about how unfair this was to me, that I only followed the directions of my advisor, and they were responsible to get me through on time, and on like that. She ended by saying, “And you just take it all calmly, and I know why. Your faith works for you. I don’t get it, but it works for you.”

I didn’t know it was obvious. You may not know it’s obvious in your life. But this walk that we have with Jesus, enhanced as it is by knowing the Bible truths that we share, changes us.

Is it worth it? I can only answer for myself, and hope that it gives you something to think about, but, yes, absolutely, it is worth it. Here and now, during my threescore and ten, and hopefully more, amidst the toil and trouble. The truth that I know, the church that I serve, and the people I fellowship with give me a culture I love, belief that brings peace, and assurance of paradise. It helps me know Jesus better, and that makes me a better person than I can be on my own. All of it improves my life, and none of it comes from within me.

Karl Marx should have been so blessed.

Doug Inglish is RMC vice president for administration. Email him  at: [email protected]  

21 Oct

EDITORIAL: EVERYTHING CHANGES

I was picking up folding chairs with the head elder of a small church after a service. A very small church. I was a sponsor on a mission trip within the United States, and our group quadrupled the size of the congregation at services that morning. They also reduced the average age to about 70, all of whom treated the students like royalty and fed them a wonderful meal. The elder was now enthusiastically telling me about his church and the new pastor they would be welcoming soon.

“He’s young, which is a good thing because we are all getting older, and he believes we can do some successful evangelism here. I’m excited about it because we want to grow.”

Then he paused, and with a concerned look on his face, continued in a lower tone. “Well, the truth is, we do want to grow, but I want to make certain it’s the right kind of growth.”

I nodded in understanding. “In other words, you want to have more people, but you don’t want to change.”

His demeanor brightened. “Yes, that’s it exactly. We want to stay the same.”

“Well, you know, growth is change. The people who join a church are blessed with gifts of the Spirit, and God expects them to use those gifts. I imagine that many of them will have gifts that you may not have among your members right now, and they will allow you to do new ministries that a small group of retirees might not have the skills or energy to do. Things that can bless not only the church but the community. You can’t grow and expect to not change.”

His response almost floored me: “Then I don’t want to grow.”

To him, the great gospel commission was far less precious than the view from inside his cocoon. Dying off was preferable to passing the light on to another generation. To preserve his way of worship, he would deny others the truth that he claimed to treasure. But it was not his attitude that shocked me, only his transparency about it. I had encountered many people who felt the same way but were too cagey to admit it. At least he was honest.

Before I make a statement that should be obvious to everyone, let me lay down some markers: truth is eternal, the Bible is the only reliable source of spiritual truth, and I believe in the interpretation of the Scriptures as found in the 28 fundamental beliefs of the Seventh-day Adventist Church.

Now for the obvious statement: we don’t live in the same world as James and Ellen White. While the truth has not changed, the world has, and we must adapt to new realities that affect how Adventism is practiced in the changing world.

When I was a boy growing up in a small Indiana town in the 1960s, I loved going Ingathering. At first I rode in the car with my father, a reel-to-reel tape recorder on the seat beside him blaring the King’s Herald’s Christmas album through the giant loudspeaker strapped to the top of the Studebaker. When I got a little older, I would go door to door with my uncle, who eventually began to coach me on what to say and let me try it. Before I was off to academy, I was going to the doors alone trying to reach my goal without my parents chipping in.

They quit making Studebakers after 1966. You must go to a museum to see a reel-to-reel recorder. The King’s Herald’s musical style has changed. And in the few communities that have not legislated against door-to-door collections, it is not safe after dark to go to doors or open them to strangers, with or without a live choir in tow.

How can we re-imagine Adventism so that it stays relevant while remaining faithful to truth? If the problem is Ingathering, we can simply recognize that its time is over and move on. After all, not pounding on doors to ask for cash isn’t in violation of any of the 28. But it is more challenging to come up with answers to other changes in the world.

  • The response to public evangelism is growing weaker
  • Systematic, disinterested giving is becoming rare
  • Fewer members see the value of Adventist education
  • It is easier to watch worship from home than participate at church
  • The overhead of our schools, churches, and institutions are being driven higher by inflation, regulatory burdens, medical costs, and legal fees
  • Our colleges and universities are finding fewer and fewer students willing to take education or theology, resulting in critical shortages of essential workers to replace retiring baby boomers

We have no choice but to re-imagine Adventism. I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I am aware that new models must be explored for how we staff our schools and churches, how we spend our dollars, how we communicate our message, and how to appropriately praise God in a service that draws people in. If we don’t shake off our Laodicean tendency to cling to the familiar, then God will not be alone in spewing us out.

Already there are generations raised in the church who have decided that lukewarm is not good enough. They can’t relate to hymns about keeping the lower lights burning. They have, through no fault of their own, attention spans that are short enough to begin with, and shorter still when they must sit in motionless rows while someone talks. They can’t see a good reason why they are shut out of the decision-making process. And if they are frustrated enough to not hang around, why would we expect great success in attracting others from their generation who did not have the advantages of growing up in the church?

Change can be made without sacrificing truth. In fact, change is imperative. Without it, there is no growth. Which takes me back to my story of the elder who admitted what many others believe, but most will deny. Once I had recovered from his stunning declaration, a response popped into my mind.

“Well, you have that choice. You don’t have to change, and you don’t have to grow. But there are some words you need to remember, because you are going to need them someday. ‘I was afraid I would lose your money, so I hid it in the earth. Look, here is your money back’, “(Matthew 25:25, NLT)

Douglas Inglish is RMC vice president for administration. Email him at [email protected]

23 Mar

COMMENTARY: STABILITY

By Doug Inglish … For some of you, this might be new, but I’ve seen this before.

When I was a young driver, not really needing my own car, yet but finding it necessary to borrow one of the family cars from time to time, I had enough sense of responsibility to put some gas in the tank now and then. No big deal. So, by the time I did buy my first car, the habit of paying for my own fuel was well established.

Then everything changed. Or, I should say everything began changing on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times in a day. Every time I passed a gas station, a new and higher price was posted. One evening, I came in from the construction job I had that summer and told my dad, “I don’t know how I can afford to drive to work if gas hits fifty cents a gallon.”

Always a man of calm perspective, he replied, “There will come a day, and soon when you will wish it would hit fifty cents a gallon again.”

As usual, he was right. That day was very soon after, and every day since then for that matter.

Things eventually settled down, and for several decades inflation was at a more reasonable, manageable pace. In fact, a lot of items actually went down in price while going up in quality, such as electronics. Gas itself has been a more volatile ride, with the global market being affected by wars, labor issues, technological advances, and political disputes. When it went past a dollar, I never thought it would go back under, but it did for a time. Same thing at two dollars.

But now everything seems to be going up, and fast. You can read about it in the news or go see for yourself at any store. Inflation is soaring again like it was around the time I was filling the tank on my battered Chevy Impala. Not only at the gas pump. We are all paying more for food, energy, insurance, clothing, tires, and household goods. Inflation is even affecting me at work, where my ability to invite a gifted pastor to fill a position in one of our churches is frequently stymied by the cost of housing.

With this kind of instability, it’s hard to plan. Can the water heater last another couple of years, or should I get one before the price jumps? Can we afford a vacation? Is the price of used cars going to come back to earth before this one falls apart? Will a college degree be out of reach?

I am not an economist, and happily so, because I consider the field to be one of the black arts, like voodoo, witchcraft, and automatic transmission repair. But as I said in the beginning of this article, I have seen this before, and watching our country (and indeed, the world) go through it again, I think I can safely declare a very real economic principle: Stability is an illusion. It seems to be around for a while, but then everything goes haywire, and you get left wishing gas would hit fifty cents again. Or two dollars, or whatever. Soon enough, we may find ourselves longing for the good old days of five-dollar-a-gallon gas prices.

But we long for stability in life. We like to know where our next meal is coming from, for everyone to stop at red lights, and to not get hit with a pop quiz in our 7:30 class. The stress of watching prices rocket toward the stratosphere is just one more reminder that stability is not just an economic illusion; it’s a fleeting vapor that we chase in our jobs, our relationships, our health, and our golf game, if that’s your thing.

But God is stable. He’s the Rock upon which the church is built (Matthew 16:18), our shelter (Psalm 61:3), our fortress (Psalm 91:2), and the One Who hears when we cry out to Him (Psalm 55:17). When things go bad, God is good. He is dependable. Unchanging. Stable.

One bit of evidence of His stability is found, oddly enough, in economics. Inflation has had a profound effect over the last 4000 years, but I am returning the same tithe that Abraham did that long ago.

If you don’t think that’s a remarkable fact, consider sales tax rates. When I was a boy growing up in Indiana, the state sales tax was 2%. Today, it is 7%–more than a threefold increase. If God were only as stable as the legislature of that rather conservative state, our tithe rates would now be 35%, and yes, that’s before offerings. But the One Who is from everlasting to everlasting remains steady, never adjusting His rates because circumstances change.

I know that is a function of the fact that it’s not about revenue for Him (Micah 6:6-8), or about His needs (Psalm 50:12); it’s about recognizing His sovereignty (Psalm 24:1). Nevertheless, the fact that tithe has remained at a steady rate throughout its history is an indication, from the dark field of economics, that our God is stable. The kind of stable that lets me know, even when inflation is eating away at our security and foiling our attempts to plan ahead, that I can count on Him to keep me afloat.

I’ve seen this before. Tithe is my anchor in this storm because it is the assurance of God’s stability.

–Doug Inglish is RMC vice president for administration and stewardship director; photo by Rajmund Dabrowski

13 Jan

IT’S ALL ABOUT THE BLESSINGS

By Doug Inglish — I went to a public university for my graduate degree, which is not to say that I was surrounded by a crowd of atheistic, evolution-spewing hedonists whose every thought, word, and action was bent toward evil. That may describe a subsection of both students and professors I knew there, but far from all of them. Many were active in their churches, and overwhelmingly, they respected my beliefs. I am happy that I went to an Adventist college during a more formative period of my life, and I recognize that my deep involvement in the local church while in graduate school kept me grounded, but spending time with people of other faiths, as well as people of no faith, was a learning opportunity.

We who were serious about our faith recognized that same quality in others around us. We shared mutual academic interests with partyers, so we got along well with them, but we didn’t spend much extracurricular time with them.

Of course, one thing we all shared was relative poverty. Some had full-time jobs and only took a class or two at a time, but most of us were full-time students, mostly on graduate fellowships. The fellowship had minimal work requirements, so it was a great way to pay for your education. It just wasn’t a great way to pay the rent, which meant many grad students had side jobs.

One of the students I got along with best was a fellow Christian who worked as a waiter to help make ends meet. We were talking over an assignment one day and fell into a common topic; namely, how can you live on the $400 a month without either a working spouse, extra job, or trust fund? He told me how much he typically brought in waiting tables for an evening, then, almost as an afterthought, added, “Of course, that’s before tithe and taxes.”

Now, with my upbringing, tithing was normal. It’s not just what my family did; it’s what most active members did, what we heard in sermons and read about in church publication (yes, like this one), and learned about in Bible class at church school. I knew all about tithe, including the fact that Seventh-day Adventists are a minority among churches not just because we understand what it means, but because we even use the word at all. Most churches, despite the fact they depend on giving from their members for the overwhelming majority of their financial support, don’t talk about, let alone practice, true tithing. So, when my friend used the word, it caught my attention.

“Tithe? I didn’t know that Catholics tithed.” I realize now that there was very little tact in my observation, but in my defense, he had caught me completely off guard.

He smiled and declared, “We don’t. But I do.”

It was one of those moments when you know that someone else gets you. Really, really gets you. Both of us were struggling, but that didn’t keep either of us from tithing.

But digging deeper into the three sentences that I have here reported from the larger conversation, there is something else that strikes me about his faithfulness. He mentioned two things that took a bite out of his income. One of them, taxes, was something over which he had no control. The other, tithe, was entirely within his power to ignore. But he spoke of those reductions in income as if they were beyond question. In his mind, obviously, they were.

But why was tithe beyond question for him? I had a lifetime of exposure to cheerful givers who taught by word and deed that tithing is an expression of trust that brings peace and security. I had seen the blessings in my family growing up and had experienced them firsthand since establishing my own household. But his church, which has never been shy to impress upon its members their sacred duties, did not require tithing. How did he end up with the same attitude I had, in which robbing God was as unthinkable as living on Saturn?

I’m just going to have to live with not knowing the answer to how tithing became a way of life for him. I didn’t ask because it was enough for me at the time to enjoy the fact that here, in this secular environment, was somebody who got me on a really personal level. It was one more thing we had in common, and when you are as outnumbered as we were, that’s a pretty special thing to discover.

I don’t regret that Adventists teach stewardship. To do otherwise is, as Ellen White pointed out, to ignore “. . . a matter which involves a blessing or a curse…”  (Counsels on Stewardship, p. 106). But I also know that there is a danger that our faithful stewardship might be less about enjoying the blessings and more about avoiding the curses.

My Catholic friend from graduate school, whose education on the matter was almost certainly not as thorough as mine, didn’t grow up with his church teaching him anything about tithing, but somewhere along the way, he picked up an understanding of the blessings. And it was clear from the way he spoke those simple words, “But I do,” that the fear of a curse had nothing to do with his choice.

My prayer is that somewhere along the way, you, too, learn of the blessings and that your choice isn’t motivated by the fear of a curse. We, of all people, should know these things.

–Doug Inglish is RMC stewardship director; photo by iStock

07 Dec

COMMENTARY: GRATEFUL

By Doug Inglish … I know it’s after Thanksgiving, but I’m grateful that I have a job and that I love it, but it would have been nice to have had the time to do this article when it was requested. Instead, I got to hop around to several cities on the first stops of our Town Hall meetings, then to my brother’s house to spend time with my siblings, kids, and dad.

During that time, I had many opportunities to reflect on what made me thankful. Of course, you can guess what a lot of them are, and maybe those things are so common as to be cliché, but that doesn’t mean we should take them for granted.

I get along with my brothers, and my dad is still sharp at age 91, and my kids are active in church, and I’m closing in on 40 years of a continuing honeymoon, and I live indoors, eat plenty, and have good health. I think I can check all the boxes and say I am grateful for all of them.

But it wasn’t just my vacation time when I was able to reflect on blessings. In the days leading up to my time off, I was in many hotels and on a lot of airplanes, away from my wife and not getting good rest. Eating on the road usually means a lot of poor choices with limited options, which was undoubtedly a factor. Meetings ran long after sunset, and I had to get up early to get through security for a flight. Through it all, I was aware of some special blessings that are mine.

I work for the Rocky Mountain Conference, so those days on the road, I saw a lot of beautiful landscapes. I went to meetings with people who care enough about the church’s mission to show up and talk with us about it. We had lots of good stuff to share with them, like a strong financial picture, a newly organized church, some baptisms, and some ordinations.

And I spent those days with Mic Thurber and Darin Gottfried, men of sound judgment and exemplary character who love the Lord and are dedicated to making good decisions and doing the Lord’s will, and who are, by the way, delightful to be around. Already it is becoming evident that we consider it a privilege to share the journey with each other, and we look forward to seeing how the Lord is using our pastors, teachers, and lay leaders to spread the gospel. We may tremble at the thought of leading those terrific people, but we know that we are not alone. We have a healthy constituency, we have solid leadership on all our committees, we have each other, and we have the Lord as our guide. More than that, we cannot ask.

I hope that when you think about your place in God’s work, that you too are grateful for what He has given you to fulfill your role. I pray that you can say that your fellow elders, or Sabbath School teachers, or school board members are godly, dedicated people with whom you delight to work. I pray that you have a budget to accomplish what must be done. I pray that you see growth.

Yes, I was grateful during the holiday. Very, very grateful. But even the tiring trip before my vacation was full of opportunities to be aware of my blessings, which made my return to the office also a happy moment.

May each act of service that you do for the church’s mission likewise be a blessed experience.

–Doug Inglish is RMC vice president of administration and stewardship director; photo by Unsplash