10 Jan

LISTENING TOGETHER, BETTER

By Nathan Brown — I have a strained relationship with the local church of which I am a member. There have been various factors, but a key moment was a sermon from the then-head elder of the church warning the congregation about “dangerous ideas” that were “creeping” into the church, specifically focusing on a project that I was working with at the time.

After experiencing a renewal of my own faith at events organized as part of this project, I had become part of the group organizing similar events in Australia, had spoken at some of those events and even helped publish1 a book in collaboration with project leaders. My support and contributions to this project were open and obvious. Now, together with my fellow church members, I was being warned in serious tones about the dangers and deceptions therein.

Of course, the earnest elder had watched some videos online, “researched” some websites and perhaps even purchased copies of various books addressing these dangers. Later, he would host one of these US-based authors on a speaking tour in Melbourne, so this author could repeat these warnings with still greater “expertise” and urgency. But the one simple thing this local church leader did not do was ask me about it, either before or since.

It would not have been difficult. He knows me. We used to politely greet each other at church and still occasionally in the main street of our small community. My office is directly across the street from the church building. Some of the material he was referencing even mentioned me as a minor contributor to this project. What would a simple question have cost him? Except perhaps the invalidation of his personal “project” and his projected sermon topic.

It was a pattern that was repeated among others of my friends in their local churches around that time and since, on a variety of matters and topics. It seems we are more inclined to believe something posted on social media, an online video or some conspiracy-mongering from the other side of the world than we are to have a conversation with someone who might answer our questions and concerns in our own communities and congregations.

And I have seen this pattern repeated amid the many and varied ideas around the coronavirus pandemic and vaccinations. From my days at a university student, I have now been friends with several medical doctors for almost three decades. We went to school together, shared Pathfindering adventures, then shared accommodation during university days and studied together—and since then I have remained friends and followed their careers as they have worked through the arduous processes of becoming fully qualified, gaining specializations, and working terribly long hours. Some are leaders in their respective states’ medical and hospital systems.

They have been sources of good and reliable information as I have negotiated the pandemic personally, but also professionally as a writer and part of the management team at our church publishing house. But I have also had opportunities to listen to them as they have expressed their heartbreak, frustration and discouragement as conspiracy thinking and anti-vaccination sentiments have infected their church families, networks, and communities—including “people I really like and respect,” as one friend put it.

As health professionals working tirelessly to combat the traumatic disease effects of the pandemic, these attitudes have been an additional and profound challenge, to their work but also to their relationship with their faith. The resistance to the common practices of public health, together with the focus on individual “freedom” rather than community wellbeing, particularly among people of faith, “seems so counter to everything I was raised with and believe,” said a doctor–friend who regularly works with seriously ill COVID-19 patients.

In short, we need to listen more to the experts and experienced in their respective fields who are members of our faith communities. This is the model of church Paul championed: “Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function . . . and we all belong to each other” (Romans 12:4, 5).2 I am not a doctor and prefer not to have to make sense of complex medical questions with my limited knowledge, which is why I appreciate being friends and fellow believers with some very good and smart people who are.

As a church, we need to give more space and attention to the professionals among us. In the right context and with sufficient politeness and notice, they will usually be willing to respond to genuine questions and concerns we might have. And as we listen, we might learn to trust them a little more. In turn, this will also be an opportunity to support them as they wrestle with difficult issues and work through hard experiences in their working lives.

Our world is complex, and it is a Christian imperative to be discerning. We are to “hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good” (Romans 12:9b)—and this is more effective when we seek to do it together, particularly respecting those who have trained insights and expertise to offer. As such, it is remarkable—and lamentable—that we are more inclined to believe a YouTube “preacher” than someone we have worshiped with for years. Perhaps it is revelatory of the shallow relationships many of us have with our fellow church members, so maybe we need to begin with asking those questions and seeking to grow together, so that we not “just pretend to love others. Really love them” (Romans 12:9a).

This is also the safeguard against the false or pseudo-community we find online and in social media channels. Those who peddle the “secret information” that creates so much of this angst and tension, even in our church communities, are not our friends. Nor are the social-media algorithms that push them at us. For those so inclined to question and seek alternative “insights” no matter how speculative, it is surprising that their suspicion does not seem

to include their preferred information sources, “expert,” “preacher” or “ministry.” Some do it for influence, some for-profits and donations, some simply to cause mischief and sow division in our churches and societies.

For example, a recent study found that 19 of the 20 most-followed Christian pages on Facebook were run by Eastern European troll farms, spreading Christian-ish sounding content either for profit or to cause social tension.3 Similarly, the Center for Countering Digital Hate has found that two-thirds of the anti-vaccination content on social media comes from just 12 people, a group of “for-profit anti-vaxxers” dubbed the “Disinformation Dozen.” 4 None of these information sources are on our side, they are small groups of people trying to cause trouble and profit from it. Then their disinformation is shared and re-shared by all kinds of people and for all kinds of reasons, including various preachers who decorate the same information with a few misquoted Bible verses and so build their “ministry” followers and donations.

This is where we encounter real people, build real relationships, and humbly share how we seek to live well in our complex world. “Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!” (Romans 12:16).

My experience with the elder in my local church was contrasted by another experience with an elder in the church in which I grew up, where my mother is still a member and thus where I am an occasional visitor. Confronted by the same anti-project material that my local church elder was drawing upon, my hometown elder noticed my name and contacted me to make a time to talk when we next crossed paths. Because he knew me a little, he assumed that I would not be part of something that was trying to lead the church astray or tear it apart.

When we sat down, he had both books—and one I had helped published and the other warning of the “great deception”—and seemed to have spent some time with both. He seemed genuinely perplexed by the contradictions between the two, not merely arguing two sides of the same discussion but talking about two quite different things.

Based on his actual research, his genuine questions, and his concern to find a greater understanding, we had a good conversation. I don’t think I recruited him—after all, that’s not what I was trying to do—but I think I did answer some of his questions. We still have quite a few differences of perspective and even beliefs, but we prayed together that day and we have worked together on occasional projects since.

The complexities and confusion of our world constantly tempt us toward shortcuts and simple answers, part of which is the temptation to listening to a single view that fits and feeds our assumptions and fears. But our faith calls us to live and listen differently and together: “Love each other with genuine affection and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble and keep on praying” (Romans 12:10–12).

–Nathan Brown is a writer and editor at Signs Publishing near Melbourne, Australia. His Christmas devotional book Advent: Hearing the Good News in the Story of Jesus’ Birth is great for seasonal reading and gifting. Email him at: [email protected]

1 For the One: Voices from the One Project (edited by Nathan Brown with Alex Bryan and Japhet De Oliveira): https://adventistbookcenter.com/for-the-one.html

2 Bible quotations are from the New Living Translation.

3 https://www.relevantmagazine.com/culture/tech-gaming/almost-all-of- facebooks-top-christian-pages-are-run-by-foreign-troll-farms/

4 “Pandemic Profiteers: The Business of Anti-vaxx”: https://www.counter-hate.com/_files/ugd/f4d9b9_13cbbbef105e459285ff21e94ec34157.pdf

10 Jan

KNOWING THE TRUTH IS NICE, BUT NOT ENOUGH

By Dick Stenbakken — Picture two terrorists speeding across the bleak, dusty landscape trailing a vortex of dust. Suddenly they see a strange aircraft pop up over the horizon. The alert driver sees it first and asks his companion, “What is that strange-looking thing?”

His companion squints through the dusty windshield, concentrating on the small spot just above the horizon. “Oh, that is the A-10 Thunderbolt, sometimes called the Warthog,” he replies. “Warthog? That is a most strange name. So, what do you know about it?” the curious driver asks. “Oh, I know very much about it,” the passenger replies excitedly. “Tell me more,” the driver pleads.

“Well, the plane is built around a massive 30 mm seven-barrel cannon that can fire between 2,100 and 4,200 rounds per minute. It can carry 16,000 pounds of bombs, including anti-armor missiles, cluster bombs, and sidewinder missiles. The pilot is protected by titanium wrap-around armor and the plane can fly even though badly damaged.”

“True? That is really true?” asks the awestruck driver. “Yes, verifiably and actually true, but there is even more,” the passenger replies.

Suddenly the plane seems to be way closer and closing fast on the vehicle and its occupants.

“What are those smoke streaks headed toward us from the plane?” inquires the driver. “Oh. Those are two missiles he has fired.”

“Awesome! Quips the driver. I am glad you know so much about that plane. You have taught me much my friend! I am now enlightened, better informed, and….” The sentence is never finished as the vehicle and terrorists are erased in a blinding flash.

The passenger knew the truth, right down to many details. He was accurate, articulate, and knowledgeable. He was even excited to share the truth about the airplane to an inquisitive friend. However, even though he was dead-on accurate, the truth was only informative. It did not promote any prompt changes, nor did it provide safety.

Unless truth prompts changes, it is merely esoteric information and cerebral data displaying the understanding of the person sharing truth in all of its details. Truth does not function in a vacuum. It must lead to practical application leading to meaningful action. Truth is more than esoteric understanding, as good as that may be. Without application to life and life’s varying challenges, truth can be like a beautiful Christmas tree decoration that is pretty, or even fascinating but has no impact on changing my life.

Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life…. (John 14:6).” When He said that, the ears of the Jewish listeners began to tingle, because the phrase “I AM,” was the formal name of YHWH, the Supreme God of the universe. Jesus identified Himself as both the ultimate Truth, and as God incarnate. They got it. It was as obvious as a Warthog bearing down on you out of the blue.

Even Jesus’ statement of ultimate truth was in vain unless it led to belief, acceptance, and action. It is no different for us today.

It is too easy to mouth the phrase, “We have the truth!” The immediate (often inner) response is, “So what?” Has that truth made a change in my life, my thinking, my actions? Perhaps a more thoughtful, and humbly prayerful statement might be, “The truth has me.” The latter statement is pregnant with potentially life-changing actions and relationships. Truth applied is what changes people, deepens relationships, builds trust, and works the works of God. Truth applied puts sandals on cerebral assent.

So how do we know “truth” amid the clamor of vying voices saying they alone are true?

Go back to the statement of Jesus in John 14:6. Link it with how He stated, “I AM….” He laid the foundation of the rest of His statement on His relationship with His Father. That ongoing relationship was key to His work and to His being. He said, “Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the miracles themselves (John14:11). “I and the Father are one. (John 10:30). He said again, “…I am in the Father and…the Father is in me (John 14:10). For Jesus, truth is embedded in an ongoing relationship with the Father; it is not some sterile, stand-alone metaphysical proof-text proposition or formula.

The greatest agony Jesus suffered was not from the Roman whip or nails. It was the rasping, gasping cry out of the darkness He could not see beyond when he cried out, “My God! My God! Why have You forsaken Me!” (Matthew 27:46). His emotions told him (as did Satan) that the relationship with the Father was eternally severed. But truth is not based on emotions. Truth is built on a knowing that responds beyond the most crushing emotions. As He was dying, Jesus clung to the truth that his Father had not forsaken him, even in the darkest despair. That is why Jesus could close His life with the trusting words, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46). That’s truth applied under the most excruciating circumstances.

Jesus knew and demonstrated that truth is not merely subjective. It is based on eternal objectivity that does not change. There is no such thing as, “Well that may be your truth, but it isn’t my truth.” Something is either incontrovertibly and forever true, or it is not.

Would you trust a builder who used a rubber ruler to construct your house? You know, the kind of ruler fishermen sometimes use, where the fish gets larger with every telling. If the builder purchased his lumber by stretching the ruler (to save himself money) when purchasing, then contracted the ruler when building your home, you would have an irreparable mess. As for me and my house, I want a solid steel, unchanging, precise ruler, and an honest builder. Nothing less.

So, how does one know truth from untruth? Jesus set the stage by his relationship with the Father. He knew that God was and is Creator, Sustainer, Protector, Guide, All-Knowing, All-Powerful, Ever Present, Just Judge, Compassionate Listener, and much, much more. Knowing those aspects of God’s character in an ongoing, real relationship allowed Jesus to be Who he was/is as demonstrated in how he lived and what he did. The same will be true of those who build a living, vibrant, ongoing relationship with the Person of God, not just knowing details about Him. Jesus said to some who claim to have done great things in his name, “Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Depart from me, you evil doers!’”

Reflect on those last devastating words: “I never knew you,” and the corollary painful truth, “You never knew Me.” The Greek word for “know” (ginosko) describes an intimate knowledge and relationship way beyond a mere cerebral recognition. To truly know God, and His Son Jesus, is to have a living, ongoing, thriving, life changing relationship with Him. That relationship is the objective yardstick to determine what is, and is not, true. That relational aspect will change everything in life, death, and eternity.

In some ways, the old saying, “It’s not what you know, but who you know,” adds clarity. To know Jesus, and the Father, to have a living relationship with them, changes my life’s direction. That relationship with both is what defines life.

And that’s the truth.

–Dick Stenbakken, Ed.D., retired Army Chaplain (Col.), served as director of Adventist Chaplaincy Services at the General Conference and North American Division. With his wife Ardis, he lives in Loveland, Colorado. Email him at: [email protected]

10 Jan

THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR

By Rajmund Dabrowski — My vivid memory about my grandmother Janina is her frequently repeated story about “accepting the truth” using a variation of expressions, including “learning the truth,” “knowing the truth,” “believing the truth,” “living the truth,” or “joining the true church.” She meant to express her discovery that seriously embracing Christianity (and the Adventist faith) made a difference in her life. It was more than knowing it. It was living out the truth she discovered and embraced. I recall her telling a conversion story and how she joined a new church.

One day, she came back from her church full of tears. There was no news from the hospital. She would have to check the next day to see if her husband, Jan, had survived surgery. Would her prayers bring healing to their home? But what was the meaning of the voice she heard? After all, she was praying to St. Anthony. He was a patron saint who was often invoked in prayers for restoring health, requesting help for those in distress or sorrow.

The voice she heard had asked, “Why are you praying to a clay figurine? Pray to Jesus. He lives and heals.”

She was stunned and returned home in tears. What was the meaning of the message? “I wanted my husband to be well. I wanted him home and at work as I could not imagine being left alone with four young children,” she explained. There was a knock on her door. The gentleman outside introduced himself and invited her to join a Bible study at a local Adventist church. But there was more.

Why are you crying, he asked?

Her story unfolded about her husband being in the hospital. Would he survive a generally incurable disease? If only he had listened to his doctors. Her faith prompted her to plead for a miracle from St. Anthony who was to intervene. The visitor assured her that Jesus changes all. They prayed together.

My grandfather lived not only through the WWII years but several years past his hospital surgery. And he left me with a memory of him as he carried me in his arms. This was my grandmother’s first encounter with truth as presented in the Word, but also her first encounter with Jesus.

Grandma Janina was a staunch believer. She often described her faith as a walking-with-Jesus experience. It was an experience of sharing him with others. As I listened to her prayers, I noted that she has things to say to Jesus. She told Him to return as He promised in her lifetime. And as she was in her final days, she told me that she learned that it wasn’t what she wanted Him to do, but that He has a better plan to fulfill. Knowing the truth means learning to hang out in the places daily where our Lord has promised to meet us. We will then gain clarity of what He meant when He said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free!” (John 8:32). In the words of Prince Tripp, “Without clarity [about] what Jesus means by ‘the truth,’ we will never know true freedom. Through a daily connection with his Word, we will not only gain knowledge but will encounter the living Truth to which it faithfully points.”

Such was my grandmother’s experience with our church. And she was ready for the return of her Lord

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