Pulling Away the Veneer by John Monday

One morning as I walked into the church I saw Chris standing in the lobby. Chris is often in the lobby as I walk in, but this time he wasn’t alone. As he approached he introduced me to Neal, and it became clear that this was going to take more of my time than I was willing to spend.

Despite my frustration, I took a few minutes to listen to Neal. As it turns out, Neal had been released from the hospital ED the day before where he had been treated for an infection in his leg, a sight I had no desire to see but was shown anyway. A few days before that, he had been released from the Orange County jail where he spent 39 days for a minor offence. Prior to going to jail, Neal spent a couple weeks at the Orlando Union Rescue Mission. All of his clothes were left at the mission when he was arrested, and had since been given away. He was at the Rescue Mission because his employer went out of business and was unable to pay his employees. But that is far from the beginning of Neal’s story.

Neal was a high school football star in Alabama. As a senior, he was a team leader, an object of the local paper’s sports writer, and heavily recruited by colleges across the South. He had an offer of a full scholarship at the University of Alabama and was poised to live out his dream when he suffered a broken neck during a game. While the injury didn’t leave him incapacitated for life, it did leave him in the hospital for several months and unable to play football. When he got out of the hospital, his senior year had passed him by, there was no high school diploma, there were no scholarship offers, and he had developed a drug dependency. His drug dependency would dominate the next ten years of his life, sending him into a spiral that led to alcohol, cocaine, crack, and eventually to Orlando.

To be fair, he didn’t come straight to Orlando from his drug dependency. He had been clean for the better part of a year in Alabama. As sobriety replaced drug dependency, Neal began to realize what he had lost and just how little he had. He had no money, no skills, no education, no prospects, and he had burned the bridge of every relationship in his life. So after a stint in rehab, he came to Orlando. His goal was to prove his sincerity and his ability to pull himself up then return to Alabama with a bit of dignity and begin rebuilding relationships - a goal that clearly had not come to fruition.

As he was speaking to me, his goals had been reduced to just one: He wanted to go home. He had been in touch with a pastor from his youth who had put him in touch with a local junk yard manager that was willing to give him a part time, minimum wage job back home. His only possession was a Home Depot store credit card worth $74.00, a possession he would happily sell. He had tried for days to sell the card but was unable to get anyone to talk to him in the Home Depot parking lot. It was, in fact, this effort to sell his store credit card that landed him in jail. You see, people don’t like to be approached in the Home Depot parking lot by big, homeless men, and Home Depot doesn’t like it either.

I’ll admit that I was moved by Neal. After I went with him to the Orlando Union Rescue Mission where I verified that he had, in fact, been a exemplary tenant and his possessions had been given away days before; and I talked to the pastor in Alabama that helped him find a job; and I verified that the Home Depot store credit card was worth $74.37, then I agreed to buy him a bus ticket to Dothan Alabama for $79.00. He, of course, gave me the Home Depot card resulting in a net loss of $4.63

So what? So what is the point of this rambling? What was my take-away from the time I spent with Neal?

As I considered Neal, the single thought that kept coming to my mind was that for days he couldn’t sell that card in the Home Depot parking lot. But the problem is not only the people in the Home Depot parking lot, it’s me too. Why was I so reticent to spend any of my precious time with Neal? Why do I avoid spending time that way with people like him? My time isn’t actually that valuable. Allow me to propose a possible answer.

When I considered Neal long enough, I was struck less by our differences than by our similarities. I began to wonder, what would have to happen in my life to place me in his position? The answer is surprisingly little. But for one missed tackle in one game 12 years ago and Neal might be every kids Hero. How many of my opportunities would have to be taken away before I fail? How much of my ability? What if I had less diligent parents who were less committed to equipping me for life? What if I had a sudden accident resulting in a loss of mental or physical acuity? What if my employer, my friends, and my family lost all confidence in me?

What if there is a something more sinister? What if I capitulated to my base impulses? What if the social boundaries that guide my behavior were no longer able to contain me? What if the Relationships that compel me to behave and provide no longer held sway in my life? How much of my life is a veneer that, if ripped away, would reveal a man very much in need, a man very much like Neal.

You see, Neal is just like us without the veneer. Neal, and those like him, are walking reminders that we’re not OK. We have little tolerance for Neal because to look at him is to see ourselves. So much of our lives are houses of cards that crumble under the slightest weight. To engage with Neal fully is to be confronted with the depravity that lurks beneath the surface of our lives.

The reality of our condition is so offensive that many of us refuse to acknowledge it. Whether we consciously avoid it or subconsciously ignore it, it is there, waiting to overwhelm us. But this is precisely where authentic Christianity begins. Not in serving people like Neal, but in realizing that we are just like Neal. This is the point where Christ meets us and the only point at which Christ can change us . . . can save us.

Neal knows, and is absolutely clear, that he cannot accomplish anything. He has no self-inflated ego; in fact he has no ego at all. This is the first work of God in the life of a Christian. We must have the veneer ripped away and see ourselves for who and what we are: utterly and totally degenerate creatures capable of no good thing. Upon realizing our depravity, we must acknowledge it and surrender it to Christ. If we view it as something that we work on by ourselves or even together with Christ, then we have inflated ourselves, denigrated Christ, and rejected his work of redemption in our souls. Our salvation is wholly and completely a work of Christ. The new creation that we become is wholly and completely a work of Christ, and to turn myself wholly over to another, even if the other is God, cuts against every thing in my nature, my sinful nature, the nature just under the veneer.

Maybe that’s the reason Neal couldn’t sell that store card.

Racism in the Church? by Tami Cinquemani

I fell in love with Jesus in a church of 24 members – all brand new Christians who had recently made a decision that turned their worlds upside down. Our church was filled to capacity every Saturday – mostly with members of other churches who had heard about this church of brand new Christians on fire with a first-love experience. We were a unique bunch. A sampling of ages, backgrounds, cultures and ethnicity. This was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life and my first view of what I thought heaven would be like.

I grew up on the South Side of Chicago (me and “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” for all you Jim Croce fans!). I was a child of the Sixties, and I had a front row seat in displays of racial tension. I hated every second of it. This fact only made me love my new church and my new faith even more. I was a member of a church that didn’t distinguish on the basis of race. We were all God’s children, and we were one big family . . . or so I thought.

You can only imagine my disbelief when I found out months after my conversion that my church had a separate conference and church structure based solely on race. I was outraged, I was embarrassed, and I was heartbroken. The years that have passed since I became aware of this travesty have done nothing to alleviate any of these feelings. In fact, they have only increased.

I understand the reason for this structure’s initial purpose, and I believe organizing a “Black” conference during a time when, sadly, even the Seventh-day Adventist church treated African Americans with bigotry and prejudice was necessary. However, this is no longer the case. Current conference structure embraces racial diversity, and leaders of all nationalities strongly desire working together. I also understand it won’t be easy restructuring with the intention of integrating conferences, but it needs to be done.

How can we, as Christians who believe that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28) allow this to continue? Our relevance to the young people in our church as well as our community at large depends on our church making some drastic changes in order for us to truly become ONE in Christ Jesus. There is no room for this kind of division along racial lines. It is unbiblical, unchristian, and just plain wrong.

Tami Cinquemani

To Botox or Not to Botox - That is the Question! by Tami Cinquemani

Just recently a very good friend of mine asked me if I would ever consider getting Botox treatments. My first thought (after asking myself if, perhaps, I hadn’t applied enough foundation that morning) was ABSOLUTELY NOT! Of course, this response was triggered by terrifying visions of tiny little needles invading my sensitive facial area. I related to my friend the experience I had with the technician who gave me the one and only facial I ever experienced. This strong and determined woman with the physique, temperament, and accent of a Gestapo agent declared forcefully while pointing to various areas of my face, “Botox! Botox! Vaxing! Vaxing! Botox! Peeeeel! Botox! Zen you vill be beeeauutiful!” This facial was not turning out to be the relaxing experience I had anticipated.

My friend and I continued our conversation, discussing the pros and cons of advanced efforts to maintain a youthful appearance as we grew older. We marveled at the paralyzed faces of current actresses whose overdone Botox injections allow for limited facial expression. We chuckled about the artificial fullness of collagen-injected smiles. We discussed everything from augmentation, to liposuction, to face lifts. And we decided we’ll probably just do our best to grow old gracefully . . . and naturally.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about putting time and effort into looking my best. I spend more hours than I like in the gym. I keep a fairly updated wardrobe (albeit strategically selected from clearance racks). I generally don’t walk out my front door without “putting my face on,” and my mantra is, “The greyer I get, the blonder I’ll be.” I’m happy to stop there.

I have friends and acquaintances, however, who have gone the route of Botox and the like. My response to them? You go girl! I know there are those who would think all these efforts are based in vanity and not something a real Christian woman would do. Though some would argue, the Bible’s only caution on this topic is toward modesty in appearance. I think that leaves the whole issue between God and the person making the decisions.

H.M.S. Richards, a pioneer of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, was once asked his opinion of women wearing make-up. I love his response: “If the barn needs paint, paint it!” My thought is, if the barn needs a spackling job or a new door, that should be up to the barn-owner as well.

Tami Cinquemani

The Adventist Sub-Culture by Chad Hess

My life has been entrenched in Adventist sub-culture. I attended Adventist schools from first grade through college. I’ve lived in the dorm, I’ve gone vegetarian, I sold books door-to-door, and I’ve worked at summer camp. In fact, in the 13 years that I’ve worked, I’ve only had one job that was not at an Adventist institution. In that job, I realized how very different I was from my coworkers who were not Christian. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Their lifestyle of drinking and partying held no appeal for me whatsoever. We lived in two completely different worlds.

One of the primary purposes of the church is to “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). But how can you build a relationship with someone if you have nothing in common with them? During the times in my life when I have been most entrenched in Adventist sub-culture, I even found it uncomfortable to relate to Christians of other denominations. They didn’t understand academy life. They didn’t understand the religious phrases that I threw around (and I couldn’t explain the phrases either). Differences of belief would crop up in the most innocent of places. And that was just with other Christians! How can I fulfill the great commission of making disciples of non-Christians when I can barely interact with other Christians who are only a little different than I am?

Last week, I read for class The First Apology of Justin Martyr. It was a defense of Christianity written to the Roman emperor in the second century AD. In the letter, Justin repeatedly used Greek philosophy and Roman mythology to defend Christian beliefs and build a bridge toward belief in Jesus. Paul used a similar approach in Acts 17 with the Athenians. He stretched himself to find common ground to begin their conversation and even quoted from their poets to prove his points.

If you, like me, were “born and bred” Adventist, how much do you know about life outside of Adventism? What interests do you share with the non-Christians around you? How much interaction do you have with non-Christians?

Chad Hess