MV Spring 2019

By Ed Barnett

One of the most important parts of a local church is its board. To rightfully represent your church, the board should be made up of board members who rightfully represent your church family. You should have a board which represents both the men and women on it. The board should also represent the diversity that you have in your church culturally. It should reflect the generational diversity of its membership as well.

We are all concerned about many of our parishioners leaving our congregations. We single out young church members not being attracted to what was once their faith community. Frankly speaking, how can they be attracted to the church and its life when they are ignored, and little time and effort is spent on recognizing them as fully-fledged church members. Are they recognized for the talents and skills they have? How much time is spent listening to their needs and interests?

Even though I will just make one point at this juncture, let me plainly ask a question: Does your local church board include young people? After all, they are church members themselves, and their faith community will benefit from their enthusiasm, imagination, and creativity. We often hear that young people are the future of the church. Perhaps they are, but they are also church members now. How do you involve them in the affairs of your faith community?

The more diverse your board, the more likely you will be to get a good cross-culture of ideas that can only help the board and church grow.

All too often, the board spends most of its time just looking at financial issues. That should be only one small part of what a church board does. Obviously, boards need to look at finances. You should have an up-to-date accurate financial statement each time you have a board meeting. However, the main focus of the board should be the overall ministry of the local church.

The Church Manual defines a menu of the local church board functions in these words: “Every church must have a functioning board whose members have been elected during a church business meeting. Its chief concern is having an active discipleship plan in place, which includes both the spiritual nurture of the church and the work of planning and fostering evangelism.

Included in church board responsibilities are:
An active discipleship plan.
Evangelism in all of its phases.
Spiritual nurturing and mentoring of members. l Maintenance of doctrinal purity.
Upholding of Christian standards.
Recommending changes in church membership. l Oversight of church finances.
Protection and care of church properties.
Coordination of church departments.”

The Gospel Commission of Jesus tells us that making disciples, which includes baptizing and teaching, is the primary function of the church (Matt. 28:18-20). It is, therefore, also the primary function of the board, which serves as the chief committee of the church.

“When the board devotes its first interests and highest energies to involving every member in proclaiming the good news and making disciples, most problems are alleviated or prevented, and a strong, positive influence is felt in the spiritual life and growth of members” (Revised 2015, p. 129).

We hire pastors to grow healthy churches, but every elder and board member ought to realize that theirs is a similar responsibility. It is the job of the church to grow God’s kingdom in the communities where we live.

Another item I want to throw in for free: Meetings of church boards should be planned ahead of time, with the agenda and minutes of a previous meeting sent out ahead of the meeting. That way, you can see if the church is following up on the business that has been voted on.

A vital aspect for board meetings is to always keep them under two hours unless something really out of the norm has to be cared for. When I pastored Denver South Church, which was a thousand-member church with a sizable board, we usually began our deliberations at 7:00 p.m. and were done by 8:30 p.m. or 9:00 p.m. at the latest. The chairperson must keep things moving and the agenda ought to be well prepared and well thought out.

It is an honor and a privilege to be selected to your local church board. It should be something that you look forward to because you are doing the work of the Lord. A board is only as strong as the members who are on it.

It’s my prayer that God will divinely direct and influence each church board in the one hundred and thirty-three churches in the Rocky Mountain Conference! We have a job to do and that is to take Jesus to everyone in our territory.

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

By Ron Price

Aristotle was one smart dude. One of his most famous quotes is, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then is not an act, but a habit.” In more modern times, Steven Covey became famous for his Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. Though each of these gentlemen wrote from a secular perspective, I believe we Christians can still learn from what they had to say. Forming beneficial habits requires some degree of discipline in the near term, but the long-range payoff is outstanding.

Sometime back, I began to wonder what the Seven Habits of Highly Effective Christians might be. I’ll give you my version here but invite you to come up with your own.

Habit one: Go through life with a positive outlook.

Yes, I realize this world can be a dark place and that we all experience negative and hurtful events at times. But, as followers of Jesus Christ, we have every right, and I might say “duty,” to be joyful and optimistic about how all things will turn out. In 1 Peter 1:6 we read, “So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you must endure many trials for a little while.” So rather than overdosing on the nightly news, why not do as Paul counsels in Phil. 4:8 and, “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”

Habit two: Live each day with an active faith.

I firmly believe that God is real, and that Jesus Christ is exactly Who He claimed to be. I accept the Bible as my true roadmap through life. That being said, what excuse do I have for not living out what I believe on a regular basis? To do so, I must be careful about the thoughts I allow to fester in my mind and “take them captive to the mind of Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5), and I must go through life each day armed with the full armor of God (see Ephesians 6: 10-18).

Habit three: Know, understand and apply Biblical instruction. One of my favorites texts is Romans 12:1,2, where we are admonished to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” I like to think of the Bible as The Owner’s Manual for Life. While I do not consult my vehicle owner’s manual as often as I should, the negative consequences of not applying Bible lessons to life are far more consequential.

Habit four: Pray without ceasing (1 Thess. 5:17).
At first glance this might seem to be a humanly impossible objective. It would be difficult, to say the least, to go through our daily regimens with our eyes closed and on bended knee. But I don’t think that’s what we are being told to do. Rather, we are to be in a continual attitude of prayer and connection with our Heavenly Father. Our prayer life should be more than just prayer at meal times and upon awakening or going to bed. While I believe it is beneficial to have specific times to spend with God in purposeful prayer, I also believe we can, and should, be in continual communion with Him throughout the day, seeking His wisdom, guidance, and marching orders.

Habit five: Be loving and others centered. Christ gave us His life; we are to give Him ours. Perhaps the best way we can serve God is to serve His children who live among us. As the old Pathfinder song goes, “We are His Hands . . .” If we focus only on ourselves, we will, among all people, be the most miserable. As we focus on being vessels for Him to fill with His love, grace, mercy, etc., to overflow to others, we will indeed find true joy in life.

Habit six: Be active in fellowship. The writer of Hebrews instructs us to “. . . not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of His return is drawing near” (10:25). I believe this means more than just regular church attendance each Sabbath. We, as followers of and believers in our Lord Jesus Christ, are to truly care for one another as a ministering body and church family.

Habit seven: Be rooted and grounded in your true identity. Having been saved by the shed blood of Jesus and by accepting His death and resurrection as our own, we are entitled to live as victors. We may know the Truth and the Truth will set us free (John 8:32). We need not grovel as low-life and worthless sinners, but we may claim, and rejoice in, our identity as saints whose citizenship is already in Heaven (see Col. 3:1-4).

In conclusion, I again challenge you to come up with your own personal list of seven habits that you believe God would want you to live out on a regular basis. As you seek to form and implement those habits, please be sure to remember that love and the Holy Spirit must be your driving forces, or all your efforts will prove futile.

–Ron Price is a member of the RMC executive committee from Farmington, New Mexico. Email him at: [email protected]

By Reinder Bruinsma

Seventh-day Adventists have often referred to themselves as a “peculiar people.” Just the other day, I noted that Ellen White wrote about Daniel as a “peculiar person.” (Signs of the Times, Nov. 4, 1899). Then I looked for other places where she used this word and found quite a few. She spoke, for instance, of several other Old Testament heroes as belonging to God’s “peculiar people” (Prophets and Kings, p. 148). In the fifth volume of her Testimonies for the Church, she writes: “Seventh-day Adventists have been chosen as a peculiar people, separate from the world.” The expression “God’s peculiar people” is perhaps less common today among Adventists, but it is still being used quite widely. First of all, we should note that the word “peculiar” has a number of different meanings. When something is strange or uncommon we refer to it as “peculiar.” But the word often has a rather negative and unpleasant connotation, and is more or less synonymous with “weird” or “bizarre.” And there are many people who feel that Adventists are indeed “peculiar” in that sense. (I must admit that I also know a few rather weird Adventists.)

In spite of all the public relations efforts of our church, Seventh-day Adventists are still, for many people around us, a rather unknown group. Often we find that, if people do know something about us, they mention things we do not believe in and things that we do not do, rather than the main points of our message and the positive things that Adventists do, in fact, do. Adventists, many websites contend, are weird. They do not eat pork or shrimp, they do not drink alcohol, they give ten percent of their money to their church, they keep Saturday as their Sunday, and they have a prophet. Such a group must be really weird!

When I grew up in a small place some twenty miles north of Amsterdam, our family was the only Adventist family in our village and we were quite “weird” in the eyes of the Christian Reformed and the Catholic people around us. In my class in secondary school, it was considered quite weird that I did not come to school on Saturdays (as was still common at that time in the Netherlands).

God’s special possession

The origin of the expression “God’s peculiar people” is found in two New Testament texts. The King James Version of Titus 2:14 reads: “[Christ] gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” And in 1 Peter 2:9, the apostle Peter reminds his readers, “Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people . . .”

In these Bible verses the word “peculiar” definitely does not have the connotation of “weird” or “bizarre.” This becomes crystal clear when we consult more recent Bible translations. The Greek term that the seventeenth century translators rendered as “peculiar” means “possessing, possession, property.” The New International Version of the Titus 2:14 translates it as “a people that are his very own,” and in 1 Peter 2:9 as “God’s special possession.”

How wonderful is it to know that those who have chosen to follow the Lord Jesus Christ are “God’s very own” and “God’s special possession!” This is fully in line with 1 John 3:1: “See what great love the Father has lavished upon us that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” Of course, Adventists should never claim that they are the only ones that are called “children of God.” But all of us must make sure that we belong in that category, and we may have the assurance that we do, if we in all sincerity choose to follow Christ.

Our Christian calling does not imply that we should become “weird,” and that we should live in pious isolation from society, even though in Adventist parlance we live in Babylon! When Jeremiah addressed his fellow Jews, who were living in ancient Babylon, he was adamant that they should live normal lives and do all they could to be a blessing to the society of which they were part (see Jer. 29:4-9). And that is what we are called to do in our Babylon of the twenty-first century.

Being special

Being “God’s very own” should not make us peculiar in the sense of being “strange,” but this assurance should constantly remind us that we are special. This certainty anchors our identity. In today’s world, many people experience an identity crisis and wonder who they are. Those who are “God’s very own” may also have all kinds of questions about themselves, but there is this one grand, underlying certitude that we know where we ultimately “belong.”

Being “God’s very own” gives us a clear sense of purpose. I feel inspired by the way in which the recently deceased Eugene Peterson paraphrased 1 Peter 2:9 in The Message, and by how he captured the meaning so well: “But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do His work and speak out for Him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference He made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted” (italics mine).

As God’s instruments we have a mission to make this “day-and-night” difference in our own lives and in the lives of others around us. This means that we must, as Peterson puts it, tell others of how being “God’s very own” has made us different people. This not only means that as Seventh-day Adventists we have a distinct message that can help people find Christ and can help others who already have some knowledge of what it means to belong to Him enrich their sense of belonging and their Christian experience. But being “special” must also transform how we live. It must translate into a life that is inspired by the values and norms of the Kingdom of God that is awaiting us in the future but that, in a very definite sense, is also already within us (Luke 17:21). Above all, those who belong to God must reflect the love of God and must model the love and tolerance that was exemplified in the life of our Lord.

Open letters

In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul used the metaphor of a “letter” to summarize what living as a Christian is all about: “You are a letter from Christ, . . . written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God” (2 Cor. 3:3). In other words, a Christian life is special in the sense that it clearly communicates something of who and what God is.

When people look at us, they must not see a weird or bizarre person, but they must see something special in us. We are reminded of what happened in Jerusalem when Peter and John witnessed fearlessly of their faith. Though they were “unschooled and ordinary” men, the people “were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus” (Acts 4:13). That awareness of the glorious fact that we are “God’s special possession” will make us different. People will take note that we, like Peter and John, have been with Jesus. A former generation would probably have said that this makes us “peculiar,” but we should perhaps simply say that it makes us very “special” indeed.

Reinder Bruinsma has served the Adventist Church in publishing, education, and church administration on three continents. He still maintains a busy schedule of preaching, teaching, and writing. He writes from the Netherlands where he lives with his wife Aafje. His two latest books are Facing Doubt: A Book for Adventist Believers “on the Margins” and In All Humility: Saying “No” to Last Generation Theology. Email him at: [email protected]

By Barry Casey

Theologian Stanley Hauerwas once said that the test of a church is in the kind of people it produces. Based on that stringent criterion, most churches would fail the test. Hauerwas was not grandstanding nor was he unduly harsh. The churches in Revelation come in for more criticism than he leveled. But, thanks be to God, we are also forgiven, encouraged, and inspired continually to follow Christ more faith- fully and reflect God’s love in the world. Nevertheless, whenever I rev up to criticize the church or Christianity in general, I remember Hauerwas’ warning. The church is what we make of it, but we often fall far short of what it could be.

Some years ago, I decided I needed to get back to basics. I had been raised an Adventist and then had chosen to become one. I had been raised a Christian and then chosen to become one. I had been a teacher of theology, a youth pastor, and had led evangelistic meetings in England, Wales, Canada, and California. But I knew that if I didn’t redefine Adventism for myself, in a form that had feet and could walk, I could no longer remain an Adventist.

Where to begin? I started with the name: Seventh-day Adventist. What could be more basic than that? It became clear to me that the ideas of the Sabbath and the Second Advent contained a complete and profound philosophy of life. The Sabbath and the Second Advent, to follow French Christian existentialist philosopher Gabriel Marcel’s thoughts, are mysteries, not problems. Problems have solutions and are outside us.

Mysteries have depths that can only be plumbed from within. To work with mysteries is to be changed and charged with spiritual energy. So, I want to look more closely at the lovely mystery of the Sabbath—and leave the Second Advent for the future.

I’d like to outline a personal theology of the Sabbath: first, as it relates to hope and suffering, and second, as it bears directly on resistance to evil and the transformation of suffering.

The Sabbath and hope

The Sabbath and hope share several characteristics essential for resistance to evil and the healing of suffering. The Sabbath is a gift from God to humans and thus has an element of grace about it; hope is a need intrinsic to human nature, the satisfaction of which comes most fruitfully from God as a gift of grace.

The Sabbath experience and hope are both future directed and point us beyond ourselves to the transcendent and the eschatological. While it is clear in the Old Testament that the Sabbath looks back to God’s initial creative activity, it is also clear that the Jews were asked to observe the Sabbath because it prefigured the ideal society of the future.1 Further, the weekly Sabbaths pointed forward to the sabbatical year in which fundamental relationships between humans, and between humans and nature, were to be restored. Debts were to be cancelled and the land to lie fallow so the minerals in the earth could be replenished.2 The sabbatical year, in turn, pointed forward to the great Year of Jubilee, the fiftieth year, in which land was to be returned to its original owners, all debts wiped out, and slaves set free. It was this eschatological symbol to which Jesus appealed in his inaugural sermon (Luke 4:18), in which he declared the messianic Sabbath to have begun.

The Sabbath, like hope itself, is an occasion for an opening up to oneself, to others and to God; it is the quintessential experience of communion. As a day of rest (but not inactivity) the Sabbath functions as a time to step back from common pursuits and discover ourselves anew. It opens us to communion with God as we realize we are created in God’s image.

The Sabbath as rest and peace

Both Jewish and Christian observance of the Sabbath is as a day of rest and peace. The Genesis account of creation indicates that the Sabbath is the time when God finished working and “refreshed Himself” (Ex. 31:17, NEB). In this rest God did not simply stop activity but enjoyed the works of His hands. This rest was thus an expression of joy and celebration of that which God had made.

In a similar manner, we are to rest on the Sabbath to allow ourselves perspective on what we are and what we shall become. Against the compulsive fear that we shall suffer if we are not working, the Sabbath is a reassurance that the world will not come to a halt because we do not produce seven days a week.

The Sabbath and creativity

As the Sabbath commemorates God’s creative work, so it may commemorate our own creativity. At the completion of the week, we offer up to God our work in God’s name. We turn these efforts over to God in the hope that sincere works done to restore healing and promote justice will have a liberating effect.

The Sabbath also affirms us as beings created in the image of God, as social beings from the beginning. The Sabbath brings us into a community where we may open up to each other and provide nurture and support in resistance to despair and cynicism.

The Sabbath and liberation

The Sabbath is also the assurance of God’s willingness to infuse present history with the work of liberation. The Sabbath as a sign of God’s activity in history is a call to cooperate with God in liberation to undo the works of evil.

The Sabbath also reminds us of the struggle and conflict in achieving liberation. But as the remembrance of the long- ago deliverance of the Exodus, it becomes the basis of hope in the present. The Sabbath as a symbol of God’s liberating activity is a dangerous memory.

For us, the Sabbath is a symbol of hope over suffering which draws individuals into solidarity. Such a community can become the flashpoint of justice and liberation in its sphere. The Sabbath calls us to trust and to make ourselves available to others in communion and service. As a living memorial to creation, the Sabbath gives us a framework for our identity as humans and calls us to co-creatorship for the works of justice and peace. As a dangerous memory of suffering and hope, the Sabbath calls us to remember our captivity so that we might continue the work of liberation.

But true hope is realistic about evil. The cost of hope, like the cost of discipleship, lies in learning to live with Sabbath as a sign of God’s activity in history is a call to cooperate with God in liberation to undo the works of evil.

The Sabbath also reminds us of the struggle and conflict in achieving liberation. But as the remembrance of the long-ago deliverance of the Exodus, it becomes the basis of hope in the present. The Sabbath as a symbol of God’s liberating activity is a dangerous memory.

For us, the Sabbath is a symbol of hope over suffering which draws individuals into solidarity. Such a community can become the flashpoint of justice and liberation in its sphere. The Sabbath calls us to trust and to make ourselves available to others in communion and service. As a living memorial to creation, the Sabbath gives us a framework for our identity as humans and calls us to co-creatorship for the works of justice and peace. As a dangerous memory of suffering and hope, the Sabbath calls us to remember our captivity so that we might continue the work of liberation.

But true hope is realistic about evil. The cost of hope, like the cost of discipleship, lies in learning to live with ambiguity and with suffering. We do not seek suffering; it comes to us unbidden. And the process of hope confirms the necessity of hope, if for no other reason than hope refuses to admit defeat and thus survives. As long as there is a protest, however faint, against the systems of evil, they are vulnerable.

I believe the Sabbath experience can give people courage and hope. But since there is always a risk to faith in resisting evil and transforming suffering, there is no unequivocal assurance of victory. Yet, the Sabbath is our invitation to hopeful journeying.

–Barry Casey taught religion, philosophy, and communications for 37 years at universities in Maryland and Washington, D.C. He is now retired and writing in Burtonsville, Maryland. More of the author’s writing can be found on his blog, Dante’s Woods. Email him at: [email protected]

References

1. Dresner, Samuel H. The Sabbath (New York: The Burning Bush Press, 1970), pp. 63-64. 2. Edwards, Tilden. Sabbath Time: Understanding and Practice for Contemporary Christians (New York: Seabury Press, 1982), p. 13.

By David Sedlacek

Parents, teachers, youth leaders, chaplains, pastors, and others in positions of leadership often must hear the painful accounts of those to whom they minister. Isaiah 63:9 tells us that in all of our suffering, God also suffers. We are never absent from His tender, compassionate care. God feels what we feel and suffers our pain with us.

As His representatives here on earth, we too are called upon to empathize, that is feel, with the children, youth, adults, and older persons in our families, churches, and communities. If your heart is open to them, their pain will affect you. I was recently asked by students in the seminary where I teach how I process the pain from the stories I hear when counseling students and others with whom I work. Here are some things that I have learned.

First, I must have a vibrant personal relationship with God. It begins in the morning with my personal time talking with and listening to God. This connection continues throughout the day no matter what I am doing, whether it is teaching, counseling, preaching, or even doing very mundane things such as washing dishes, driving to work, or doing the laundry.

Before I begin a therapeutic task such as reading a student story or listening to a client, I intentionally pray, asking for God’s presence and guidance to see what He sees and hear what He hears and to be guided by the Holy Spirit in my feelings and responses. What this does is keeps me connected with God always.

Second, I recognize that I am not the healer, but God is. This allows me to not carry the burdens of others myself. My job is to facilitate a connection between the person I am ministering to and God. It is easy to say those words, but many of us struggle to fully understand how to be such a conduit of healing.

Some of us have taken on the role in our families and professions of “fixers” or “healers.” We have chosen professions such as nursing, medicine, social work, psychology or teaching, sometimes to work out our own pain as well as to minister to others. If we consciously or unconsciously see ourselves in one of these roles, then we will tend to carry the burdens of others in an unhealthy, codependent way. We may even work harder at their recovery than they do.

If we carry these burdens alone, they will certainly crush us. The Bible tells us, “Cast your burdens upon the Lord and He will sustain you” (Psalm 55:22). When we say, “Lord, this is too much for me. Here, I give the pain and hurt of this person to you,” then the Lord lifts the burden and carries it with us. Even though we continue to love and care for the person, we know that this person is in God’s arms of care. There are several methods of inner healing prayer that specifically connect the person with God that are beyond the scope of this article.

Third, it is important to engage in daily self-care. In addition to a vibrant, personal prayer life, physical, emotional, and relational health are essential to caregiver survival. A healthy diet, sufficient rest, and daily exercise help us to be at our best when working with others. Ellen White reminds us that there is an intimate connection between the body and the mind.

Knowing yourself and how you process stress is essential to healthy caregiving. Taking a walk, spending time in nature, talking with God, working out in the gym all have their place. Unhealthy eating to medicate the pain we carry from others or taking the pain out on others are unhealthy coping mechanisms that some people fall into.

Fourth, being in touch with our own feelings and processing the pain of our own past is also a part of self-care. If a person has not processed their own pain, they will be likely to project their own issues onto the person they are working with. However, if they have dealt with their own

issues, they will use their healing journey as a way of identifying with the person and being a source of comfort to them. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, “God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others.” Many of us have been told that it is not OK for us to have feelings. Poor emotional health (not being in touch with one’s feelings or being emotionally reactive) makes it difficult to empathize in a healthy way. We will relate primarily from a cognitive position rather than an integrated position of both mind and heart.

Being healthy socially means that a helper has good communication and conflict resolution skills and that they can listen well. However, it also means that they know when to ask for help themselves. In addition to the Lord, it is good to have a small group of people with whom you can process the difficult things that you have heard from others. I personally have a small accountability group that I have come to trust. I also attend a Journey to Wholeness 12-step group that meets at our church weekly. These groups provide an avenue for me to share and debrief my feelings at times.

Finally, when expressing their feelings, ministry leaders would do well to express them as specifically as possible. For example, rather than saying, “I feel bad,” a more specific feeling would be preferable, such as, “I feel inadequate.” Understand your limitations.

Don’t blame others, shame yourself, control others, or withdraw. Recognize these tendencies in yourself. Be aware of emotional flooding when too much has come at you too quickly. This often leads to emotional shutdown. Learn to step back and observe yourself during your interactions.  Ask yourself why you are responding the way you are. Is your response well thought out or more emotionally reactive?

Being a well-differentiated, emotionally and spiritually mature helper makes one a much more effective tool in the hands of God.

–David Sedlacek, PhD, LMSW, CFLE, is professor of family ministry and discipleship and director of the MA in youth and young adult ministry program at the Seventh-day Adventist Theological Seminary at Andrews University in Berrien Springs, Michigan. Email him at: [email protected]

By Nathan Brown

Within the Galilean town of Nazareth, the small but abrupt hill of Mount Tabor is the “traditional” site of the Transfiguration—if by “traditional” we mean it might or might not be the actual place that it happened, but it is the place identified as part of the pilgrim circuit of the Holy Land established and popularized in the fourth century by St. Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine.* At the eastern end of the Valley of Jezreel, Mount Tabor is mentioned a few times through the Bible, including being the vantage point from which the prophet Deborah and Barak led the Israelite army against the oppressing armies of Canaanite King Jabin (see Judges 4).

Having recently looked over this distinct hilltop while visiting Nazareth, my mind went to this place and the story of what might have happened there when I was asked about the completeness or otherwise of the Seventh-day Adventist faith project. Of course, Adventism is as complete as “It is finished” (John 19:30**) and as incomplete as “the Good News about the Kingdom will be preached throughout the whole world, so that all nations will hear it; and then the end will come” (Matthew 24:14). The church is as complete as the great “I am” and as incomplete as the Great Commission. As has often been said of the Kingdom of Heaven, it is “already” and “not yet.” But the story of the transfiguration of Jesus draws these realities out in the remarkable experience and fumbling responses of the disciples Peter, James, and John.

Confronted with the alarmingly bright display of the divinity of Jesus, accompanied by the mind-boggling appearance of Moses and Elijah—the two Hebrew heroes who personified the law and the prophets of the Old Testament scriptures—Peter offered a curiously human suggestion: “Lord, it’s wonderful for us to be here! If you want, I’ll make three shelters as memorials—one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4).

Given God’s overwhelming response to Peter’s meager idea, it seems ironic that the hilltop considered a possible site for this historic event is marked today by two main churches and two smaller chapels. But such is the pattern across the “holy lands.” Wherever there is a possible biblical site, churches, chapels, and shrines—and their ubiquitous gift stores—abound.

The most contested of these are about 60 miles to the south, around the Old City of Jerusalem, particularly the two locations that claim to have been where Jesus was crucified, buried, and resurrected, even though the entire point of the story is that He isn’t there. Jesus’ instruction to His first evangelists—the women He met at the tomb that Sunday morning—was to turn their backs on the empty tomb, not to make it a holy place, but rather to go and tell what had happened and to share their story of this discovery.

Yet there is something innately human that wants to enshrine, memorialize, explain, and defend our experiences and stories of faith and the divine, both in our physical architecture and our theological structures. With successive generations and layers of history, these structures tend to become increasingly elaborate, rigid, and dearly held.

But, in the story of the transfiguration, God seemed to shrug off these merely human inventions—in a way that was both awesome and terrifying. Ignoring Peter’s temptation to human-sized building, the voice of God pointed these perpetually awkward disciples to His “dearly loved Son” (Matt. 17:5)—and to His words. Then Jesus’ immediate words to them were the biblical refrain, “Don’t be afraid” (verse 7). And the culmination of this revelation and affirmation of the divinity among them? “When they looked up, Moses and Elijah were gone, and they saw only Jesus” (verse 8).

When we have Jesus and hear His words of courage and assurance, our faith is complete. This is the testimony of all the Bible’s laws, prophets, apostles, and epistles. And this has been the experience of countless followers of Jesus since that night on the mountain top. When they have encountered Jesus and listened to Him, they have found that He is enough. This was the impulse of Paul in his declaration to the Corinthian church: “For I decided that while I was with you I would forget everything except Jesus Christ, the one who was crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2).

But this was not the end of the story. Part of God brushing aside Peter’s earnest building plans was to reject his enthusiasm for this mountain top as a “wonderful” place for them to stay. Instead, Jesus led them back down the mountain. The gospels writers recorded a little of their conversation along the way, explaining something of what they had just seen, but the focus soon shifted to the large crowd waiting for them at the foot of the mountain (see verse 14) and the ministry that was yet to be done among the people there.

As glorious as our mountain-top experiences might be, the teaching and model of Jesus is that our faith must always be more about serving and bringing healing to the crowds in the valley than the time alone on the mountain top. As such, our project of faith is incomplete. While ever there are people in need of hope, healing, liberation and restoration, we are led back down to the valley.

Throughout the Bible, our God eschewed holy sites, even holy and high-sounding ideas, in favor of humble and holy service by and to seemingly unholy people (see, for example, Isa. 58). This is what Jesus was about, the Son who brought great joy to His Father and who taught His disciples to do the same. While His people throughout history have often lived out the service and healing commands of Jesus, it has been patchy at best. And in our Adventist experience we have not had either a robust theology or consistent practice of doing justice and loving mercy as key to our humble walk with our God (see Micah 6:8).

In Jesus, we are made whole and, in following Jesus, we embrace an unfinished and not-yet-completely understood task that works to heal all the brokenness of our world and its people—in anticipation of and until He makes all things new (see Revelation 21:5).

–Nathan Brown is a writer and editor at Signs Publishing in Warburton, Victoria, Australia. His forthcoming book, Of Falafels and Following Jesus, tells more of his stories and reflections from a trip to Jordan, Israel, and the Palestinian Territories. Email him at: [email protected]

*Reading the description of a “high mountain” (Matt. 17:1), the surrounding stories in the gospel accounts and the geography of northern Israel suggests Mount Hermon as a more likely location—but it’s about 60 miles further north, straddling the borders of Israel, Lebanon, and Syria, meaning it’s a difficult place for tourists and pilgrims to visit.

**Bible quotations are from the New Living Translation.

By Dick Stenbakken

The title seems like an oxymoron, but sadly it has often become a reality in nations, families, and organizations. “How,” you might ask, “could tyranny ever be not only accepted, but become a virtue?” The two seem to be direct opposites and would logically rule each other out. Think for a moment. We all value freedom and predictability/consistency. In order to have consistency and predictability–thus safety–we need guidance and rules. Otherwise there is chaos. That’s why we have speed limits, rules and regulations, and curfews for our kids.

When chaos is thought to be in full throttle, a parent, CEO, or even religious leader feels the necessity to step in, define the rules, and enforce them as a way to bring order. If the “chaos” continues, the leader resorts to naming, blaming, shaming, and punishing in order to take control.

The levers of control may be seized so strongly that the “cure” leads to tyrannical control, which the leader often sees as a virtue. “After all,” they reason, “if I did not step in and resolve the issues, it would be a total disaster; therefore, what I am doing is a high virtue. My control saves the nation/family/organization. I am acting in the best interest of those I lead, and I should be given unquestioned obedience because I am the (parent, leader, pastor, head elder, etc.).”

In the blink of an eye, tyranny has become a virtue, and those who disobey require and invite naming, blaming, shaming, and punishment. Power becomes abusive rather than conducive to growth and mature discussion.

Think Inquisition, or Saddam Hussein. Tyrannical rule can, indeed, bring consistent predictability. But the price is high. Freedoms evaporate. Oh, yes, there is a level of freedom, but it comes with the mantra of, “My way or the highway.”

When tyranny is in play, there will be abuse, but the abuser sees it as rational control. Think of an abusive marriage where one spouse takes tyrannical control. The abused spouse has no rights, no choices. “I don’t care what you think! You will do it the way I tell you or else,” becomes the rule of the household. The abuser justifies their naming, blaming, shaming, and punishment.

Think of an abusive parent/child relationship. Parents can be tyrannically abusive to their own children. “This is for your own good. This hurts me more than it hurts you,” is heard often. Parenting slips into child abuse. Tyranny has become a virtue in the mind of the abuser. The other side of that coin is when the roles are reversed and the child has control over the parent; control that becomes brutal. It is called elder abuse.

The same dynamics are operable in a religious or secular organization. Abusive leaders allow no discussion, no variance, no accommodation. “My way or the highway” is both a taunt and a reality.

My careers have taken me to assignments from doing thousands of hours of family and individual therapy with people of all backgrounds to leadership positions as varied as a pastor of a district of small, scattered congregations to assignments at the Pentagon and the World Headquarters of the Seventh-day-Adventist Church. Unfortunately, I have encountered people who have believed that their tyrannical style of leading is, indeed, a virtue. I have, by my profession and training, dealt with the shattered, broken, and hurting results of that kind of leadership.

Along the way, I have also seen another kind of leader- ship that produces much better results. I have worked with leaders, parents, and couples who, above all else, worked to build positive bonds and relationships with others in an atmosphere of respect where differing opinions were freely expressed and discussed, and chaos was avoided as people were developed, matured. As a result, unity was built.

That is the pattern Jesus used with His imperfect disciples. Rather than naming, blaming, shaming, and punishing them, He matured them through building relationships with them. It wasn’t instant or easy, but it was effective. The result was a freely chosen loyalty where the disciples became willing to die for Him. They were not forced into that, but through His mentoring, they freely chose allegiance and loyalty over self (Think of your relationship with your kids or grandchildren, and what you would do, or are doing, for them.)

During my military career, I worked closely with many generals. At that rank, they have enormous authority and power. One I worked for was a total tyrant. He publicly named, blamed, shamed, and threatened to punish officers under him. After one particularly rough staff meeting, a full expressed and discussed, and chaos was avoided as people were developed, matured. As a result, unity was built.

That is the pattern Jesus used with His imperfect disciples. Rather than naming, blaming, shaming, and punishing them, He matured them through building relationships with them. It wasn’t instant or easy, but it was effective. The result was a freely chosen loyalty where the disciples became willing to die for Him. They were not forced into that, but through His mentoring, they freely chose allegiance and loyalty over self (Think of your relationship with your kids or grandchildren, and what you would do, or are doing, for them.)

During my military career, I worked closely with many generals. At that rank, they have enormous authority and power. One I worked for was a total tyrant. He publicly named, blamed, shamed, and threatened to punish officers under him. After one particularly rough staff meeting, a full

The general came in, told us to sit down, cleared his throat, and said, “Well, you are probably wondering what I have to say about events over the weekend. Here’s my take: we have trained our troops well. The guy did not drive off the road, and the MP got out of the way. We have a good maintenance program, the blankety-blank thing didn’t break down. Our ammunition security is solid; he had no ammunition on board. The command responded well, having a truck ready to load and bring the tank back to us within ten minutes of his running out of gas. Overall, we did well. Things like this happen. Let’s just not do it again. Now, let’s get the morning briefing started.” That was it.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. No one was named, blamed, shamed, or punished. Our collective appreciation and loyalty to him went up many notches on the spot. I know that if he had called me in the middle of the night and said we were going to deploy and he wanted me to come as his chaplain, but heavy casualties were expected and I could accept or refuse his request, I would have chosen to follow him in a heartbeat. True, he could order me to be there, but I would have volunteered because of my deep respect for him and his leadership style. He cared about people more than regulations.

What is your need to have total power and control, to have the last word? Which of the two generals mentioned are you like? What kind of leader do you appreciate? More importantly, what kind of leader, pastor, parishioner, parent, or spouse are you?

Top-down, heavy-handed tyranny is never a virtue. It carries its own seeds of self-destruction. Jesus had it right. He, and we, are leaders and followers–in any realm–based on love and relationship.

Those are, indeed, virtues.

–Dick Stenbakken served as a pastor, U.S. Army chaplain, and director of Adventist Chaplaincy Ministries at the General Conference. He uses his experience and five graduate degrees to teach, preach, write, and do first- person presentations at venues from the U.S. Senate and the Pentagon to small churches and schools. His website is: www.biblefaces.com. Email him at: [email protected]

By Kiefer Dooley

“Home is where the heart is.”
“There is no place like home.”
“Home sweet home.”

Chances are, you’ve heard at least one of the preceding  clichés about “home.”

For many people, the idea of “home” carries with it feelings of warmth, belonging, safety, security, purpose, and identity. For others, it’s a place of heartache, broken dreams, and longing.

Whether you’re a person who has a great “home” experience and feel that it holds true to the ideal, or you have experienced “home” as a painful, disorganized, and chaotic environment, it’s important to realize that our human view is skewed and does not offer a true picture of what home really is.

Regardless of our experience, as humans, we are all living under the shadow of a lie.

Do you remember the story of the Prodigal Son, told in Luke 15? I’m sure you do. Jesus tells us about a young man, who from all outward appearances, has a fantastic home. But he’s not satisfied. For the Prodigal Son, home is boring. He’d rather trade safety and security for fleeting, inward-focused “adventures.” Fast forward through all manner of partying and licentious living and the young man finds himself longing for what was just a short time earlier his uninteresting home. As he planned his disgraceful return, the son rehearsed a speech and prepared to list out, from A to Z, every last transgression he had made against his Father.

The flaw in the young man’s thinking is a mistake that we often make today. Missing the point. He had relegated home to simply being a place, thinking, “If only I could be a servant in the walls of my Father’s estate.” With this language of walls and beams, the son is excluding the most powerful aspect of what makes our houses homes. He’s leaving out love.

All the while, the Father is overflowing with love. He sees his lost son not as coming home in disgrace, but just coming home! As the son approaches, the Father runs to meet him. He’s not counting transgressions. He’s not waiting to list out the tiny details of the son’s wrongs, or even the blatant acts of disrespect and sin. In fact, we see the Father run to the gate to protect the son from religious leaders who were waiting to do just that. The leaders at the gate saw through the same human eyes as the son. They watched a disheveled, pig-slop covered list of sins, a living embodiment of the broken law, trudge broken toward the Father’s house. The Father only saw His son.

This year, the RMC Youth Ministries Department is going to focus on embracing the idea of being at home with Jesus. It’s a radical idea that we take for granted—a love so unique and all-encompassing.

You see, as humans, we have a difficult time comprehending the true beauty of finding our home in the embrace of Jesus. We are displaced. We struggle to even imagine what being at home with Jesus looks like. We paint our own lies over the lies of the devil. We degrade the value of the Father’s gift by gritting our teeth and trying to measure up. We fight against love, asking for a place at the servant’s table while rehearsing a list of our transgressions—completely missing the fact that in the grandeur of His monumental love, Jesus has prepared for us a party beyond our wildest dreams!

–Kiefer Dooley is RMC youth ministries director. Email him at: [email protected]

By Jessyka Dooley

If you fall within the 64 percent of Americans who own an Apple product, you have most likely been prompted on your phone or computer to update the software. Usually, you are given the option to “Install Now” or “Later.” If you’re anything like me, you probably click the “Later” button more times than you would like to admit. A good majority of the work I do is on my phone or computer and I consider it a huge inconvenience to wait a few minutes for an update and the restarting of my device. Eventually, Apple caught on to my tricks and when I clicked “Later” it started updating anyway.

From the naked eye of an everyday Apple user, I don’t always see the need for these software updates. Although I know a handful of them will just slow my phone or computer down, pushing me to get the shiny new version, I also know that these updates are fixing bugs and creating a better user experience for me. Regardless of their purpose, updates are just a part of owning an iPhone or Mac.

Much like technology, as churches and individuals, we face the question of “Install Now” or “Later” with all of life’s various updates. The world is constantly updating how it eats, shops, drives, communicates, and runs. Some updates are small, almost unnoticeable, and others can be felt on a grand scale. Like it or not, you have faced, are facing, and will face updates. Offices are constantly updating; more files are in folders on computers than stored in physical file cabinets. Our homes are constantly being updated; appliances are being replaced and electric mixers have replaced wooden spoons. Our fashion is constantly being updated; every decade looks back at the previous one with laughter. Our churches are constantly being updated—or are they?

Have we truly been updating, or have we just been put- ting it off for later . . . later . . . later . . . until we are forced to be reactive and update because there is no other choice? Change is scary. Change is inconvenient. Change is powerful. Avoiding change does not make it stop; it only stops you.

When I look at the changes that have been taking place in the world around us, I find myself looking forward with both excitement and fear—excitement for all the possibilities that are now available, streamlined because of these constant “updates,” and fearful because of the “updates” that are seemingly imposing on our safety. As we become less comfortable sending our kids into places of education, walking into buildings where we worship, and even attending a con- cert, we must ask ourselves the question: Are we updating?

Our churches cannot hit the “Remind Me Later” button when it comes to safety in our kids divisions. Yes, your church may feel like home, and yes, many members feel like family. Unfortunately, places that feel safe are also the most vulnerable. So how do we make these spaces feel safe and be safe simultaneously? We must update.

A few things to think about as you look at your kids divisions in your church:

1. Is your space safe? Are the doors and windows secure? Could someone just waltz right into any of your kids rooms? Is there anything in your space that could cause harm?
2. Is your process safe? Are your kids being checked in and out by an adult? Could just anyone pick them up? Can they leave by themselves to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water? Do you have a “hall monitor?” There are great programs that help check kids in and out safely and efficiently (See: https://planning.center/check-ins/ and https://www.kidcheck.com ).
3. Are your people safe? Have all of your volunteers gone through Verified Volunteers and been background checked? Do all of your volunteers create a healthy safe place for every kid to learn more about Jesus?

Among these three, there are many more practical and easy ways to update the safety of your kids ministry. We can no longer avoid the desperate need to create not only a safe physical space, but a safe spiritual space for our kids to learn and grow in the love of Jesus! When Jesus called the little children to Him, He was calling them to a safe place. When we invite kids to our churches, are we calling them to that same safety?

Don’t wait for someone else to take the lead; update now!

Jessyka Dooley is RMC assistant youth ministries director. Email her at: [email protected]

By Doug Inglish

Jesus told a story about two men who walked into the temple to pray (Luke 18:10-14). One of them was quite proud of his life. He did all the right things, and he was happy to recite them in his prayer (just to make sure God was aware of his rigorously righteous life): fasting, prayer, and offerings. In order to drive home the point so God would fully grasp just how good he was, he listed some particularly heinous sins that he was not committing, and then contrasted himself with the other man who came to pray, an obvious sinner based on his occupation as a tax collector.

The lesson of the humble publican who bowed his head and poured out his confession, asking God to have mercy on him, is a powerful one. When we see the two men through the eyes of Jesus we can understand how important it is to humble ourselves and be more charitable in our estimation of others. We are all sinners, and justification is found in confession.

But it’s hard to really internalize that lesson. It’s not easy to be generous like the first man and remain humble like the second man. When we make donations, the devil whispers in our ear telling us that our giving makes us better people than the ones who will benefit from our generosity.

If we were to take the same parable and retell it in our time and place, it might come out something like this:

Two people went into church one Sabbath. As the offering plate passed by, a decent and faithful man dropped his envelope in while thinking, “I am so glad that my business is doing well enough for me to be generous, so I can help people like that sad case down at the end of the pew. I pray that she can find victory over her vices. I’d pay her rent for the month if she wouldn’t just use the money she saved on drugs. That would probably do more harm than good.” When the plate came by the struggling addict to whom he referred, tears slid down her face as she slipped in what she had left so she couldn’t spend it on drugs. She lifted up a silent prayer begging for forgiveness and asking to make it through just one more day of sobriety without landing out on the street. And God ignored the boasts of the comfortable sinner while the prayers of the distressed and penitent sinner touched His heart.

The majority who read this will more easily identify with the life situation of the businessman than with the addict. But Jesus told us that no matter our circumstances, our life choices, or even our generosity, we should identify more with the attitude of the addict than the businessman.

It is impossible to have a truly grateful heart without humility. If we don’t understand that we stand on an equal footing before God with those whom we help through our offerings, then our offerings are not coming from a grateful heart. Humility comes before gratitude.

I am glad that I have the means to pay my bills. I am glad that I don’t struggle with addictions. And I’m glad that Jesus died for me just as much as for anyone. It’s when I feel that kinship with all humanity that my offerings can come from a grateful heart.

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