From Where You Are to Where You Want to Be by David Achata

Most people have a big dream. However, as time passes, that dream can seem unattainable. Imagine this: Tonight you go to sleep. Tomorrow when you wake up, everything is going to be exactly how you want it to be. What does your life look like? Think it over. Well, that’s your dream. How do you feel now?

Now, it’s fine to dream, but the next question to ask is: What’s it going to take to get you from where you’re at to the dream you just dreamed? How you wrestle with that question will determine what becomes of your dream.

In Luke 18 we have the story of a rich young man. He had a dream. He wanted eternal life. So he got up his courage and approached Jesus and asked, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 18:18) The two of them then engaged in a little conversation about what the young man had done to move toward his dream. Turns out he’d tried pretty hard, but Jesus said it wasn’t enough. Yet still, Jesus saw the greatest obstacle keeping the man from his dream. Jesus said, “You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (18:22) The story ends with the young man going away sad because he wasn’t willing to give it all for the sake of the dream.

Here’s an interesting thing I noticed about this story—the young man comes wanting to know how to get eternal life (his dream), yet Jesus tells him that he needs to be a disciple (God’s dream), which would eventually get him eternal life.

What’s the point? To get that dream requires a big, uncomfortable step of some sort.

Are you willing to take that step? Are you willing to give everything for the dream?

Take courage today, my friend: “What is impossible with men is possible with God.” (18:27)

David Achata

A Home Divided by Tami Cinquemani

Today is a high day in the Cinquemani home. Not since 1941 have the Chicago Bears met the Green Bay Packers in a playoff game. I am a native Chicagoan, and you can take the girl out of Chicago, but you can’t take Chicago out of the girl. My husband, Jeff, on the other hand, is from Wisconsin, where the Green Bay Packers have sold out every football game in Lambeau Field since 1960. He is an unapologetic Cheesehead. Family and friends from both sides of the field will join us for the game.

We are a home divided, and Jeff and I have both received emails and Facebook notes offering strategies to manage and survive the anticipated battle. We think it’s pretty sweet that there’s so much concern, but we’re actually looking forward to a great time – regardless of the outcome of the game.

Though beliefs, culture, history, and heritage have formed very strong biases in our loyalties, there’s an understanding that something greater draws us together than separates us. Besides – let’s face it – we like the fact that we’re not all on the same side because it makes the game so much more interesting. Do I want my team to win? Sure I do. But that doesn’t mean I need to disrespect my opponent. Nor does it mean I need to carry a grudge or make someone else’s life miserable if I lose.

We get to make these kinds of decisions all the time in life. Whether it is in the realm of religion, politics, sports, or a myriad of other forums, we should be able to celebrate our own views and philosophies without demonizing someone else’s. We should be able to coexist peacefully and respectfully in a world of diversity.

So, today we’ll be feasting on kolacky and hot wings (Chicago favorites) as well as kringle and cheese (Wisconsin staples), and at the end of the day, it will either be the Bears or the Packers who go on to fight for the Vince Lombardi trophy. Either way, it’s going to be a great Superbowl because either my team succeeds, or the team of those I care about does. That’s what I call a “good time had by all” . . . and a win/win situation!

Tami Cinquemani

Silent Support by Chad Hess

Last week, my one-year-old son was cutting three of his molars. He felt miserable! One night I was trying to put him down, but he was having a hard time falling asleep because his teeth hurt, and the medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. I lay down with him on the floor, and he started to relax. He kept opening his eyes to make sure I was still there. He never said anything, and neither did I. There was nothing I could say to take the pain away, but he was comforted knowing that I was there with him.

There is something very comforting about the presence of loved ones, even if words are not spoken. When a loved one dies, there are no words that can be said, but just the presence of others is comforting. Over 25,000 people came out to the memorial service in Tucson this week, not to offer words of wisdom, but to show their support through their presence.

Maybe it’s because I’m a guy who is always busy doing something, but it can feel odd and uncomfortable to just sit there. I feel like I’m not “doing anything”. But I have learned that sitting in silent support is sometimes the best thing I could do. There is a part of the story of Job that is often missed. When Job’s three friends came to see him, the first thing they did was “they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” (Job 2:13). After this is when the three friends opened their mouths, and it didn’t go so well! This story reminds me that sometimes my silent support can be the most helpful thing I can do and can be more eloquent than any speech or advice I could give.

Chad Hess

This is Only a Test by John Monday

When I was in school, I tested well. This is not to say I was always a good student. I just seemed to intuitively understand test structures. I augmented my testing skills by researching test techniques and patterns. On multiple-choice test (my personal favorite) the most frequent answer is C, and the second most frequent answer is B.

I learned that, even if you don’t know the answer, you can almost always rule out at least one or two of the choices. You can further enhance your chances by knowing your instructors verbal patterns. When they say something untrue, they’ll say it one way; when they say something true, they’ll say it another way. Those patterns can be applied to the tests they create. I became convinced that, if a class grade were based entirely on tests, I could get a solid B without studying the subject matter.

Last week I spent some time talking to a new friend who is struggling with some of the religious doctrines she’s held since childhood. For the first time she is asking hard questions of her faith, and she’s wondering: What’s true? and What’s important?

Of course, these kinds of questions rarely just pop up. They usually start with a crisis that sets our beliefs on a collision course with our life, or with a friend that believes differently and seems to have well-reasoned explanations for their belief. Maybe it’s a religious formula that doesn’t seem to be working. Wherever it starts, I’m pretty sure that true faith must pass through crisis.

So, as we discussed the events that sparked the questions in her life, the conversation seemed to keep circling back to one particular doctrine – a doctrine that, while not totally unique to our denomination, is somewhat unusual and has come to hold special end-time significance. While the doctrine may differ from one denomination to another, the fact that we hold a unique doctrine that seems to separate us from everyone else is by no means unique.

Many faith communities have some doctrine that is different and gains special significance, and no matter how much we spoke we kept coming back to this one. We discussed how Christ is the author and finisher of our salvation. We talked about our total inability to do anything to affect our redemption. We agreed that true unity can only be found in Christ, and we discussed how doctrines can be used to bind Christians together or to pull Christians apart.

After much exasperation, the heart of the matter finally came out when she said, more than asked, “but what if that really is the test at the end of time?” . . . the test.

What if her fears are realized and this doctrine is the test? Have I studied enough? Can I grit my teeth and push through with a B? Will I pass? What about all those that studied for a different test.

Finally, I realized the answer to this test is the same as every other test of faith. If this is indeed the test, then I fail. That’s it. If there is some special formula that must be adhered to in order to be saved, then I either have messed it up, or I surely will. If my salvation is dependant on my ability to pass any test, no matter how simple or complex, then I’m in trouble.

We are saved by faith and faith alone in Christ and Christ alone. There are no other choices. And if we’re operating in a “just in case mode” by saying, “I believe that Christ will save me, but I’m going to be ready for the test just in case,” then we’re doomed. Christ is clear; we either depend completely on him, or we don’t depend on him at all. He’s funny that way.

I’m firmly convinced that there is a test, and on the day the scores are read, I get to use the ultimate cheat. I can either get credit for my test or I can get credit for his. I know my choice.

So go forth, live free, have a little fun, don’t worry so much . . . the fix is in.

John Monday

When Will We Ever Learn? by Andy McDonald

As we were approaching the New Year of 2011, I received a special supplement to the Signs of the Times magazine in the mail. The title of this piece is, “2012 Doomsday or Distraction?” What is it about our human nature that makes us sure we can predict the future, determine the date for the end of the world, or predict the exact day of Jesus’ return? I received this literature to encourage me to have our church order thousands of these pieces to distribute or sponsor mailing them to our whole zip code.

I’m not any kind of last day’s expert, but I found the pamphlet pretty well done . . . and painfully incomplete. The topic about date-setting for the return of Jesus or the end of the world provided a near perfect opportunity to humbly use our denomination’s experience as a warning to others not to take the same path.

You see, the Seventh-day Adventist movement was born following the “great disappointment” of the group from which we came. Many of our early pioneers had been sucked into the date-setting that ended with the “great disappointment” when Jesus did not return to our earth on October 22, 1844.

To think that Seventh-day Adventist editors of “Signs” would fail to include, if not highlight in this document, our own experience is some kind of spiritual blindness. It reminds me of what it would be like for an alcoholic to write about the evils of alcohol but fail to share his/her own experience.

This gross, intentional omission, in my opinion, only further erodes trust in our denomination. In contrast, imagine how much confidence building careful self-disclosure would have created –“Take a lesson from us – we've been there, done that. We know the fallacy of date setting – don't make the same mistake or be sucked in by it."

But no! On page 10 of this pamphlet is a long list of failed dates when Jesus was predicted to return or the world was to end, and 1844 is conspicuously absent! For me, that makes the entire piece disingenuous and an embarrassment to me and the denomination I love and serve. I have written the Signs editors but have yet to hear from them. Here’s a portion of what I said:

“Next time, and regularly in Signs of the Times magazine, PLEASE don't hide truth and write in a self-promoting, self-flattering way. Our failures are as valid as all those other failed dates, and we can learn from them and use them to help others not fail where we did. Do better work next time, and I'd recommend either adding truth to this piece or pulling it. Otherwise, it only stands to do harm to our movement when our critics, who know our history, see the blaring omission in our telling of the story.”

As Henri Nouwen writes so poignantly, “We are wounded healers.” But if we pretend not to be wounded, if we present ourselves as having it all together – without error – we deny the world the opportunity to learn from our wounds. Setting dates for the world to end and Jesus to return is a bad idea. We know this from personal experience and maybe, just maybe, if we are transparent, we can help others not miss what Jesus said, “No one knows the day and the hour except the Father,” and, “At an unexpected hour the Son of Man will come.” (Matthew 24:36; Luke 12:40)

Andy McDonald