PERSPECTIVE

One of my favorite cartoons is the perfect example of perspective. The person stranded on the island is thrilled to see an approaching boat. The person in the boat is thrilled to finally reach land.

Our understanding of

politics

lifestyle

family life

workplace

even church,

depends on our perspective.

Do you see(k) land/safety or a boat/escaping?

The Pearl

Me - It looks like a genuine pearl. It's so cute, I want it. How much does it cost?
Him - Cute? I would never call it "cute". And yes, it's genuine.

Me - OK, it's beautiful. So?
Him - It's not cheap. In fact it's costly.

Me - But how much?
Him - I told you, it's very expensive.

Me - Do you think I could buy it?
Him - It costs everything you have, no more, no less. And anybody can buy it.

Me - I'll buy it.
Him - What do you have? Let's write it down.

Me - Oh, don't worry, I have $100,000 in my saving account. 
Him - Good, $100,000. What else?

Me - What else? I have nothing more. That's all I have.  
Him - Have you nothing more?

Me - Well, I have some dollars here in my pocket, but...
Him - How much?

Me - Let me find them. So, thirty, forty, fifty, eighty, one hundred, one hundred twenty... one hundred twenty dollars and 75 cents.
Him - That's fine. What else do you have? 

Me - I have nothing else. That's all. I swear to...

Him - Stop! Don't ever do that. Ever.

Me - Do what?

Him - Swear. Never mind. Where do you live?

Me - I live in my house.
Him - The house, too.

Me - You mean I must live in the shed?
Him - Have you a shed too? That too. What else?

Me - Do you mean that I must live in my car then?
Him - Have you a car?

Me - A little SUV and and old pick-up truck.
Him - Both become mine. Both cars. What else? 

Me - You keep saying "what else, what else"...  You've got my house, the shed, the cars, all my money, everything!
Him - What else?

Me - See what I mean?
Him - Are you alone in the world?

Me- No, I have a wife and two children.
Him - Your wife and children too.

Me - Wow, wait a minute here, this is like enslav... 
Him - I told you, everything you have. What else?

Me - I have nothing else, I am left alone now. 
Him - Oh, you too! Everything becomes mine - family, house, money, cars... everything. And yourself too. 

Me - ...

Him - Now you can use all those things here but don't forget they are mine, as are you. When I will ask you of the things you use, you must be ready to give them back because I am the owner. But for now keep them along with the pearl. Deal?

Covido Ergo Zoom

Would I Be Gathering if...

Would I Be Gathering if I Were Not a Pastor?

Most churches across the country which are open are running anywhere from 35-50% of the Sabbath morning attendance that they were a year ago. They’ve been gutted. What has surprised us pastors the most, I think, are not the pockets of elderly and vulnerable who have not returned. What has caught us off-guard is that for every person who hasn’t yet returned there is likely a unique reason for not yet returning. So, I have to ask a question for myself.

If I were not a pastor, would I be attending an in-person service Sabbath morning? Why would I come?

·  To hear the preaching of the Word? I can do that online.

· To join in corporate worship? I sing and pray anyways with my family. Does that count?

·  To be around other believers? 6 ft of social distancing makes it difficult to do much more than a wave and a “how you doing?” mumble. I can just as easily engage through a text message.

·  To exercise my spiritual gift? I can join a Sabbath school class on Zoom. I can send encouraging messages through Facebook (I’m doing it anyways). Do I need the Sabbath morning hour(s) to drive back and forth to exercise that gift? Can’t I serve and support the mission without being physically present in that church?

What is there at the physical gathering that I cannot do at home? On-site Church worship isn’t the same, I agree. But why do I need to show up whenever it’s a hotbed of controversy?

For some people, wearing a mask is a symbol of being a leftist or a fraidy-cat who doesn’t have faith. For others, not wearing a mask is a symbol of being a right-wing conspiracy theorist who cares more about themselves than other people. I’d argue few people fit either description, but still, the question remains. Why bother coming when your mere presence will offend somebody?

 

Because there is no such thing as mere presence. There is something which the generations preceding me understood that I believe has been almost lost today. And that is the power of being there part of the live happening (I didn’t find a better word). There are two areas here where our generation has swung the pendulum too far in an opposite direction.

 

1. First, in regards to the importance of a gathered body. I think there was an overemphasis in the past on the church building itself. One of my greatest pet peeves was when someone would here a teen say one of those banned words and the response would be, “hey, you cannot say that here in God’s house”. (By the way, I think that’s a misunderstanding, mixing up the temple – the real one is in heaven acc to Hebrews 9 - and the synagogue, which is the template for the NT Church services). BUT, we responded with a complete deemphasis of the sacred gathering. Now I understand that there is something special about the local gathering of the body of Christ. There is something to sacred space where God’s Word is opened and the Good News is preached.

 

2. Secondly, there were families wrecked years ago by patriarchs/ matriarchs who felt they and eventually their entire family had to be physically in the church building every time the doors were opened. There developed a somewhat legalistic checking of boxes on church attendance. BUT, we responded with a complete deemphasis of the power of personal presence. There is something powerful about you being there.

 

I can’t seem to keep Bonhoeffer’s “Life Together” on my shelves during this season. I keep pulling it down and reading it. The longer we find ourselves with our communities ever transforming due to COVID-19, the more I’m finding depth in his words. Consider this:

 

“The prisoner, the sick person, the Christian in exile sees in the companionship of a fellow Christian a physical sign of the gracious presence of the triune God. Visitor and visited in loneliness recognize in each other the Christ who is present in the body; they receive and meet each other as one meets the Lord, in reverence, humility, and joy. They receive each other’s benedictions as the benediction of the Lord Jesus Christ”. (page 10)

 

What Bonhoeffer is alluding to here is the fact that each believer is in union with Christ and has the Spirit of God residing within. You are blessed and you are a blessing for others when you are attending.

 

So… So this is my answer as to why, even if I weren’t a pastor and didn’t have any particular job to do as elder, deacon, Sabbath School teacher etc., I would still show up on Sabbath morning as long as I was able. It is because I believe the Bible promise from Colossians 1:27 – Christ in you (PLURAL) the hope of glory, and I believe the only together we can experience it.

 

And so, and please hear me well, I want to show up because to not do so would be to diminish Christ and rob Him from the worship He is entitled to. I know some could read that and say, “what about those who cannot attend?! You are making them feel horrible for something which they cannot control.” This is my response.

 

Whether it be because of a personal problem or health concerns, my aim here is to give words to the very pain which you feel. I’m sharing why we mourn with you that you cannot gather with us. Fellowship with other believers is a precious gift. You know this deeply and it’s why you ache, and toss and turn, and feel as if something deeply important is missing in your life. It’s because it is.

 

COVID-19 has given all of us an opportunity to mourn with our shut-ins. It has widened that number and opened our eyes to the value of in-person gathering. And the deep mourning which accompanies no longer being able to gather.

But this is also why I feel a deep conviction, as long as I am able, to gather with the body of Christ no matter what. To not gather, to consider it optional, would be like valuing the comfort of drinking my hot tea dressed in my Teddy Bears jammies from TJ Maxx, over the blood-bought community of the living God. 

Oh Pastor, it's not 100% safe! I hear you. Talk to Jesus about it. And while reading the Great Commission from Matthew 28, read one more time Jesus' promise granted to those who "Go ye" in contrast to those "Don't go ye yet", And the promise is this: "For I am with you always, to the very end of the age". Which in God's prophetical time is tomorrow. 

Happy Sabbath!

Why We Must Gather

Why We Must Gather

If we thought closing was difficult, reopening is proving to be even harder.

So much of our understanding of what is church is at odds with our current reality. Our style of church has been built on being a place that makes people feel welcome and loved. They can even belong before they believe.

We do what we do for the sake of reaching people who don’t know Christ with the Gospel. This is coupled with the Adventist foundation that still prioritizes time for studying the Bible in small groups gathered together - the Sabbath School, and the collective worship with music, prayers, sermon and call to dedication. Eventually followed by potluck with or without the traditional haystacks. 

It’s hard to make people feel welcome when we have to take their temperature before they walk in the door (in some places this is a big deal). Amid the pandemic, there can be no handshakes or hugs, no hanging out in the lobby. There are no warm smiles, since they’re hidden behind masks. We can’t sit with people who are alone, since they have to be six feet from everyone else.

There is no circle of prayers around someone requesting it. We no longer pass the offering plate as an act of worship or loiter in the sanctuary after services. Even singing is now regarded as questionable.

These jarring realities are forcing us to ask what all this is for. Have these practices become the essence of our faith? If they are not, why should we bother getting together at all?

This is a difficult time - not just churches, but for all industries and individuals. Every routine and relationship has been upended. Every family has been affected. Every nation has changed. Ours included.

It is the greatest disruption we have faced in our lifetimes, and there’s no sign of it letting up, an unexpected appendix to the time-of-the-end crisis. As the Church, we are blessed with the responsibility of being a place of hope and healing. But in this strange environment, where nothing can be as we have known it, why are we going to such great lengths just to gather?

Here are some of the reasons why, when it’s safe to do so, coming together for church still matters:

1. We come together to practice our faith. Many people remain hesitant to venture out, especially to unfamiliar places. That means this is not a time where we are seeing high numbers of visitors.

Perhaps the Church has become so visitor-driven, we have forgotten about the importance of the gathering of believers. We come together to do the things that strengthen us — to hear the preaching of the Word, to receive Communion together, to say the words of the creeds and songs that remind us of what we believe.

Our time together inspires us to live out our faith as a beacon of hope in a discouraged world. This is part of our freedom of religion; this is part of the practice of our faith. We don’t do it because it’s well-produced, or even well-attended. We do it as an act of worship to God.

2. We come together to be in His presence. I don’t mind leading worship on Zoom or FB. I have done it multiple times every week since we shut down in March. But there is still something powerful about coming together in person, in His presence. Jesus said, “Where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Mat. 18:20). This is true even if we are spread out all over the room. The gathering...

I looked out this past Sabbath and saw a couple of our faithful members wiping tears from their eyes as we sang the words "As we come to you in prayer"... The sheer act of being together in His presence brings a special kind of joy and strength to weary hearts. As Christians, the experience in His presence cannot be separated from the practice of our faith. 

3. We come together to see lives changed. When I worked in construction, I regularly invited my co-workers to our church. Some of them came and visited, and some even became a part of the church (in one case even after I left the place). I still doing the same thing, inviting people to come to church, although with less success because people expect to do it as a pastor.

I did some Bible studies during the week and they were people who always seemed interested, but never attending the church. Sending messages, phone calls, even small gifts, trying to compensate for the handicap that I cannot go visit them in person during this pandemic. But when we reopened, two of them came in person for the first time, mask and all. What a joy seeing them again.

I thought of Revelation 12:11: “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony.” Seeing these people there in person was a powerful encouragement to me to overcome. 

4. We come together to express our gratitude to God. More than anything, I hope this season is teaching us gratitude for what we do have: the people we love and hope to see the coming of Jesus together. Our praise takes on new meaning when we lift it up in the face of adversity.

Let’s look beyond the physical world and grab hold of the spiritual strength that comes from worshipping God together. Whatever the future holds, we can trust the One who holds the future.

As Romans 9:37-39 says, “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

"Shall We Gather at the River?"https://sdahymnals.com/Hymnal/432-Shall-We-Gather-at-the-River 

Yes, but before that, we must gather together as the Remnant - the Church of those "keeping the commandments of God and having the Faith of Jesus". Come!

(thank you Kristi Northup)

The Contemplative Pastor (1)

In my job description as pastor, I’m expected to solve problems. Wherever two or three are gathered together, problems develop. Egos are bruised, procedures get snarled, arrangements become confused, plans go awry. Temperaments dash. 

There are logistic problems, marriage problems, work problems, child problems, committee problems, financial problems, emotional problems. Someone has to interpret, explain, read the lines, read between the lines, read the small prints. That someone is the pastor, of course because he knows that people are emotional beings. He also suppose to work out plans, develop better procedures, organize, and administer. Most pastors like to do this. It is satisfying to help make the rough places smooth.

The difficulty is that problems arrive in such a constant flow that problem solving becomes full-time work. Because it is useful and the pastor ordinarily does it well, we fail to see that the pastoral vocation has been subverted. Gabriel Marcel wrote that life is not so much a problem to be solved as a mystery to be explored. That is certainly the biblical stance: life is not something we manage to hammer together and keep in repair by our pastoral wits; it is an unfathomable gift. We are immersed in mysteries: incredible love, confounding evil, the creation, the cross, grace, God.

The secularized mind is terrorized by mysteries. Thus it makes lists, labels people, assigns roles, and solves problems. But a solved life is a reduced life. These tightly buttoned-up people never take great faith risks or make convincing love talk. They deny or ignore the mysteries and diminish human existence to what can be managed, controlled, and fixed.

We live in a cult of experts who explain and solve. The vast technological apparatus around us gives the impression that there is a tool for everything if we can only afford it. Pastors cast in the role of spiritual technologists are hard put to keep that role from absorbing everything else since they are so many things that need to be and can be fixed.

But there are things, wrote Marianne Moore, that are important beyond all this fiddle. The old-time guide of souls asserts the priority of the "beyond" over "this fiddle." Who is available for this work other than pastors? They supposed to be super-qualified and under-paid, ready to embrace this infinite task of maxi/mini/stry.

If pastors become accomplices in treating every child as a problem to be figured out, every spouse as a problem to be dealt with, every clash of wills in Bible Class or committee as a problem to be adjudicated, we abdicate our most important work, which is directing worship in the traffic, discovering the presence of the cross in the paradoxes and chaos between Sabbaths, calling attention to the "splendor in the ordinary". 

And, most of all, teaching a life of prayer to our friends and companions in the pilgrimage.

(thank you Mr. Peterson)

The Blind Elephant of Relativism

Social media addicts are more apt to believe that no religion is the truth. This feeling is often illustrated by the favorite parable of college professors: the parable of the six blind men and the elephant.

This is where each blind man feels a different part of the elephant and therefore reaches a different conclusion about the object in front of him.

·       One grabs the tusk and says, “This is a spear.”

·       Another feels the trunk and says, “This is a snake.”

·       The one hugging the leg claims, “This is a tree.”

·       The blind man holding the tail thinks, “I have a rope.”

·       The one feeling the ear believes, “This is a fan.”

·       And the one leaning on the elephant’s side is certain, “This is a wall.”

These blind men are said to represent world religions because they each come to a different conclusion about what they are sensing. Like each blind man, we are told, no one religion has the truth. No one religion has the complete box top. Religions are simply different paths up the same mountain.

This, of course, greatly appeals to the minds used to cute but shallow Instagram slogan. In post-Pandemic America, truth in religion is considered an oxymoron. There is no truth in religion, we are told. It’s all a matter of taste or opinion. You like chocolate, I like vanilla. You like Christianity, I like Islam. If Buddhism works for you, then it’s true for you. Besides, you ought not judge me for my beliefs. Just wear your face mask - a psychological symbol of egalitarianism beyond the necessary physical protection.

The other problem with truth in religion is that some pieces of life seem to defy explanation - they don’t appear to fit any religious box top. These include the existence of evil and the silence of God in the face of that evil. These are especially powerful objections to anyone claiming that an all-powerful (theistic) God exists.

Many skeptics and atheists argue that if one true, powerful God actually exists, then he would intervene to clear up all the confusion. After all, if God is really out there, then why does he seem to hide himself? Why doesn’t he just show up to debunk the false religions and end all the controversy? Why doesn’t he intervene to stop all the evil in the world, including all the religious wars that are such a black mark on his name? And why does he allow bad things to happen to good people? 

These are difficult questions for anyone claiming that their theistic religion is true. (Hart, David Bentley, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and Its Fashinable Enemies . Yale University Press. p.67) Nevertheless, Christianity is the only major faith built entirely around a single historical claim. It is, however, a claim quite unlike any other ever made, as any perceptive and scrupulous historian must recognize. Certainly it bears no resemblance to the vague fantasies of witless enthusiasts or to the cunning machinations of opportunistic charlatans. 

It is the report of men and women who had suffered the devastating defeat of their beloved master’s death, but who in a very short time were proclaiming an immediate experience of his living presence beyond the tomb, and who were, it seems, willing to suffer privation, imprisonment, torture, and death rather than deny that experience. 

And it is the report of a man, Saul of Tarsus, who had never known Jesus before the crucifixion, and who had once persecuted Jesus’s followers, but who also believed that he had experienced the risen Christ, with such shattering power that he too preferred death to apostasy. 

And it is the report of countless others who have believed that they also—in a quite irreducibly personal way—have known the risen Christ. Add me too here...