My Singular Intention

I'm spending the week at a condo on the beach.  It’s our annual family beach trip when we take the week off to rest, relax, and decompress in the sun and waves.  There’s no agenda, no schedule, no work, no pressure, no distraction from the simple intention of reconnecting and celebrating the love we share for each other . . . and the beach.

Part of what makes this such a wonderful experience is the planning and preparation done in advance.  We spent untold hours searching for a condo that would accommodate our growing family, give us a front row seat on the ocean, and offer comfort and quality while staying within our budget.  We wrote out menus and grocery lists, packed swimsuits and games, put holds on mail and newspaper delivery, and lined up redundancy plans for work responsibilities.  We thought ahead for what games, movies, and sport equipment we wanted to include.  My daughter even cancelled the Facebook App on her phone, determined to take a break from even this distraction.

The addition of Adelyn, our six-month-old granddaughter, into the mix has called for some new considerations.  Each of us sport outfits complimented by spit-up, we’re more quiet when she’s napping, and we know any excursions taking place outside the condo need to be planned before her 7:00 pm bedtime.  All of these adjustments are happily accommodated with respect and consideration for each family member. Our singular intention is to be available in every way for the overall experience.

I doubt my family is unique in how we plan for a vacation.  Most people reading this blog will be nodding their heads, remembering their own trips. 

Then the Lord told Moses, “Go down and prepare the people for my arrival. Consecrate them today and tomorrow, and have them wash their clothing. Be sure they are ready on the third day, for on that day the Lord will come down on Mount Sinai as all the people watch.   Exodus 19:10-11

When the Lord invited the Israelites to meet with him at Mount Sinai, he instructed Moses that the people were to take three days to prepare.  Three days of planning, preparing, and intentional activities so they could be fully immersed in the experience – fully present in the moment.  God’s invitation required—and deserved—this.

We are invited on a weekly basis to meet with God.  His invitation is as real and important today as it was over 3000 years ago to a group of ancient Hebrew wanderers.  

Do I put the same kind of time and energy into meeting my God—the Creator of the universe, the Savior of my soul, the Provider of my very existence—that I do in meeting my family for a week at the beach?  Is my aim for quality time as determined?  Am I as careful to respect and consider the experience of the rest of those around me?  Is my singular intention to accept God’s invitation and be available in every way for the overall experience?

If not, why not?  What practices can I incorporate in my life to make that change?  How do I move from looking at my weekly corporate worship experience as more than a routine task to check off my list and become fully immersed in the sacred moment?

Tami Cinquemani

I Forgive You, Jesus by Tami Cinquemani

“Auntie, do you eat the chicken?”

“Yes, Honey, I eat the chicken.”

Heartbroken, my friend’s little niece’s lip trembled as she put on a brave smile, “That’s okay if you eat the chicken, Auntie.  I love you anyway.”

Ashley was four years old at the time.  Having been raised a vegetarian, her parents had been teaching her that she should not judge people if they ate meat.  This was very difficult for a young child with a tender and sensitive heart for all living creatures.

Finding out her favorite aunt “ate the chicken,” however, paled in comparison to when she discovered that Jesus “ate the fish.” Again, with brave determination to follow her parents’ counsel and not judge someone because of their diet, in her prayer before bed that night she said, “I forgive you, Jesus, for eating the fish.”

When my friend told me this story, I laughed.  It’s a precious story – because the heart of this little girl is so pure and so innocent that this was her sincere response to trying to get her mind around Jesus doing something that just seemed so inconceivable. Ah, children!  They say the darndest things, don’t they?

But wait a minute – don’t we do the same thing?  We may not be so bold as to come out and say it, but don’t we sometimes believe Jesus did the wrong thing? Isn’t it unimaginable to us that he did things like drink wine, party with sinners, slack off on Sabbath observance, fail to condemn homosexuals, obsess about serving the poor, and offer what seems to be pretty “cheap” grace?

How do I get my mind around Jesus telling me to “go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37) when what he did seems so inconceivable?  Maybe, like Ashley, I need to grow in my understanding of who Jesus is before I fully comprehend the perfect example he left for me to follow.

Tami Cinquemani

One Of "Those" Weekends by Greg Creek

This weekend was one of “those” weekends. As a minister, “those” weekends come around more often than not. They’re the weekends where events coalesce to form a perfect storm. The events spill from one to the next, sometimes overlapping until the day ends in a sudden halt where I’m so tired the bed sounds incredible, and so wired I have to unwind before I can go.

Lest anyone think I’m complaining, please know these weekends are amazing – especially this time of year. As a youth pastor, these end-of-year events aren’t typically meetings or planning sessions. These events are the culmination of a year or multiple years’ work. They are a showcase of talent or a sendoff into the next exciting journey in life.

Friday night I found myself celebrating the lives of nine high school students. The journeys they have been on are quite astounding and, hearing of their plans for next year, I can’t wait for updates. But it wasn’t just those nine students and their families.  People from the larger church body were present as well. I was able to hear funny and inspiring stories about these students. I was given access to years of memories and laughs by people readily willing to share with me.

Saturday, I spent the morning hanging out with my church, playing a piano made out of bananas. Crazy sounding, I know, but totally awesome and fun.

The afternoon, I shifted gears to celebrate the retirement of a teacher who has been in the profession for 39 years, most of them at one school. As more and more people kept pouring into the school to celebrate this man’s career, it was amazing to see all the lives that had been impacted by this educator. I was again allowed entry into a remarkable place of stories, recollections, and terrible yearbook photos.

In a few hours, I was rapt in awe as two of my students performed their end-of-year recital and then celebrated with a graduating high school senior.

This is my job, or at least the profound side of it. I am allowed entry into the accomplishments, joys, and successes of my students. This weekend was one of “those” weekends . . . and it was awesome!

Greg Creek

Shabbat Shalom by Richard Hickam

Shabbat Shalom were the words that greeting me over and over as I entered Oveh Shalom Congregation in Maitland on Friday night. I had met with Cantor Robuck (the musical leader of the congregation) a week earlier, and he told me about this once-a-month Friday evening celebration to welcome the Sabbath with a live band.

Adventists often feel a special kinship to Jews, as being the Christian heirs to the Sabbath. It’s kind of like having a distant rock star relative who was big in the 70s.

When I saw the Cantor, he was bringing out a basket of personalized egg shakers with the words “Friday Night Chai (Live)” engraved on them. He let me know to feel free to shake it anytime I felt like it during the music.

Promptly at 7:30 p.m., the music began and didn't let up for an hour except for intermittent scripture readings. We followed the numbers the Cantor gave us in the worship book to sing; of course, the big challenge was the pages going backwards and the words largely being in Hebrew. He provided modern accompaniment stylings interspersed with traditional Jewish melodies. Most of the music was upbeat, lively, and joyful in nature. The egg shakers were busy during those tunes. There were also contrasting, contemplative numbers that were reflective and somber.

I have a good friend, Andy Nash, who is a writer and educator.  Andy wrote a book entitled Growing Up Adventist and regularly engages in the media with thoughts about the past and future of our denomination.  Andy recently made a trip with his daughters to the Holy Land.  Friday night reminded me of Andy’s description of welcoming in the Sabbath in Jerusalem, with children dancing and it being very celebratory. Andy had voiced to me his wish that we could have more of that sentiment in our own Friday night get togethers.

My take-aways from this experience?  The sign on the door that asked that we not use our phones in the service, and hence, the congregation was much more engaged. Another noticeable difference was the closeness of all the families. Finally, I learned several great things from my neighbors, but I wouldn’t have learned anything if I wouldn’t have gotten out of my routine and comfort zone and tried something new.

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. When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them. Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. 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!

Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.  Roman 12:10-18

Our recent “Messy Church” series has challenged us to embrace the diversity of generational, cultural, and stylistic variety in our church family during worship.  It’s an even messier, albeit more beautiful,  table when we move beyond our family into the neighborhood around us.

Richard Hickam

An Acquired Taste by John Monday

I like coffee. Well, that’s not really fair. I love coffee. I don’t like Starbucks or Seattle's Best, and I don’t like Mocha, Latte, French Vanilla, Santa’s Blend, Cappuccino or any of those frou-frou corruptions of coffee. I like coffee - plain, straight, black, bitter, Folgers coffee. But I’d have to admit it’s an acquired taste.

I can’t imagine that anyone who tastes straight black coffee for the first time likes it. Like many things in life - beer, cigarettes, whisky, broccoli, mushrooms, liver - if you want to enjoy coffee, you’ve got to commit to it. But once you’ve acquired the taste . . . Oh! How pleasant it is.

There’s a synagogue near our home that we pass on our way to church. As we passed it this weekend, the congregants entering in their traditional black coats and hats inspired my son to start telling me about traditional Jewish Sabbath restrictions. He explained to me that many of them even had to limit the number of steps they take on Sabbath. I agreed and further explained that some traditional Jews wouldn’t drive a car because that could be interpreted as a violation of the prohibition against building a fire on the Sabbath.

In an effort to help him understand that there are many cultures and that we should be careful about judging others, I started telling him that Jews aren’t the only ones that restrict some activities on their Holy day. In addition to spending time with God, “There are some Christians who hold that it’s okay to wade on the Holy day but not to swim. I explained that some will cross-country ski but not go sledding, while others would think it acceptable to walk but not to run.

As I was warming to the topic and trying to help him understand that we all may have some traditions that look odd to others, he stopped me. He appeared physically nauseated, looked straight at me and said, “That’s stupid. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I realized in that moment that he hadn’t acquired the taste.

Legalism is bitter, and when first introduced to the pallet will rarely produce a positive reaction. But placed in the right environment, encouraged with cultural support, and endorsed by Elders in the community, the taste will be acquired. And once you’ve acquired the taste, you’ll be as committed to it as I am to coffee or the alcoholic is to his next bottle.

But there’s another way. A way that is sweet from the first bite. A way that doesn’t require any “acquired taste” because we’ve longed for it all our lives. A way that brings life and hope, joy and forgiveness. That way is Grace, and it belongs to Christ.

So, I think I’m content with my son’s reaction for the moment. While I want him to think generously about the traditions and observances of others, I hope that he chooses the sweet and not the bitter. I hope that he opts for the Grace that will give eternal satisfaction to his soul, rather than the conventions of men. I pray that he never acquires a taste for legalism.

John Monday

The Sabbath Truth by John Monday

When I decided to ask my wife to marry me, I began a crash course on diamonds. I thought my proposal might stand a better chance if accompanied by the most beautiful ring I could find. Fortunately, it worked. I quickly learned that there are four C’s you need to know when buying a diamond: Cut, Clarity, Color, and Carat weight.

If you’ve ever looked carefully at a diamond, you’ll notice that there are dozens of flat surfaces on the stone. In fact, there are between 50 and 60 flat surfaces on most diamonds. These surfaces are the diamond’s cuts, or facets, and the proper angling, size, and depth of the facets are what give the diamond its brilliance.

The top surface on any diamond is called the “table.” While diamonds may be impressive from many angles, they are specifically designed and cut to be viewed through the table. The goal when cutting the diamond is to have light enter through the table and then be reflected back through the table by the many facets. The better a diamond is cut, the more light will be reflected back through the table, and the more brilliant the diamond will appear.

I believe that God’s truth is much like a diamond. God’s truth is multi-faceted and may be appreciated from many angles, but when we turn ourselves to view it through the table cut we begin to see the beautiful brilliance that God intends.

If you travel in Christian circles, you’ll surely hear someone make reference to “God’s Truth,” or to “The Truth,” or in our denomination, “The Sabbath Truth.” When I hear the term invoked, I always wonder, what is “THE Sabbath Truth” that they are viewing all other Sabbath Truth through?

There are certainly many facets to Sabbath truth. There is the physical benefit we receive by unplugging and taking a rest. There is the relational benefit we receive by taking time to engage with our family, our friends, and our God. There is the spiritual benefit we receive by setting time aside to study and pray – just to name a few. But what is “The Sabbath Truth?”

It often seems that the truth that all other truth is being viewed through is correctness about the day, and there is really very little historical or biblical doubt as to the correct day. But is that the correct facet to view all other Sabbath Truth through? or have we perhaps tipped the diamond to view it through the facet that is unique to us rather than the one God intended to be primary?

While considering Sabbath, I found that the last mention of Sabbath in the Bible is in Hebrews, Chapter 4. The author makes an eloquent and logical argument that Christ is our Sabbath rest. He explains that any who enter into Christ have rest, and those that do not enter into Christ do not have Sabbath rest. The Bible then abruptly drops the topic of Sabbath, giving us the proverbial last word.

I believe that Hebrews is clear and intentional in its message, and I am convinced that those who believe in Christ have Sabbath rest. Christ is the primary cut, the table top of the diamond, The Sabbath Truth. I’m compelled to view all Sabbath truth through faith in Christ. I’ve no doubt that there are some flaws in the way I view God’s truth, but as long as I can keep looking through the right prism, from the right angle – through Christ – I can begin to see the brilliance of God’s beauty and find Sabbath unity with all who find their rest in Christ.

John Monday

Workin' It Out by John Monday

Yesterday our church family decided to forgo our normal worship service in lieu of serving our community. We gathered together, prepared for service in 16 different places, dispersed throughout the city, served and then returned to share our experiences. I’ve never been happier with or more proud of our church than I was that day.

We volunteered at the Track Shack 5K Reindeer Run at Sea World, at the Hemophilia Foundation Holiday Walk at Lake Eola, and at the Orlando Children’s Church. At least three different groups went caroling at Florida Hospital while children and their parents visited 170 cancer and NICU patients, bringing them bags filled with blessings. We wrote letters to military personnel, tilled gardens at a local school and cleaned carpets at a community center. Four hundred plus members of the Florida Hospital Church served the city, and if we’re not careful we could actually be deluded into thinking that we did a good thing.

As Christians, we are convinced that our salvation, our redemption, our future, our life, our eternity, our very existence is completely dependant on Christ. We hold that our actions, our deeds or misdeeds, our morality or lack there of, is as filthy rags in the presence of a Holy God. It’s the distinguishing doctrine of Christianity. We are not capable of doing any good thing.

It's not to hard to get most Christians to agree that we don’t do anything to affect our own salvation, but we can be quickly tempted to believe that our actions have an eternal effect on others. It’s sort of crazy; we think that, while our good works do nothing for our own salvation, without our efforts others will never be saved.

So what's the point? Why get up at 5:00 am and pass out water to runners? Why pack bags with books and snacks and deliver them to cancer patients? Why clean carpets for people we’ll never see or know?

I began to understand the value of our service the first time my four-year-old son helped me wash my car. His help cost me time and resulted in a worse job than I’d have done alone, but the thrill of having a son that wants to help his father is hard to explain, and the value to the son is incalculable.

God, in his infinite grace, has allowed us to help him in his work - but remember, when we serve others, it’s not an act of our graciousness. Our service is an act of God's grace to us. I’ve no doubt that God could more efficiently complete his work without me, and I’m certain that Christ will accomplish what he has intended to accomplish. But yesterday he let me and four hundred of my friends help, and I’m as proud and happy as a four-year-old washing his Daddy’s hub caps.

I want to do it again - how about you?

John Monday

Dangerous Worship by Tami Cinquemani

I recently had a minor surgical procedure that required me to go under general anesthesia. After the procedure, my husband brought me home, and I crawled back in bed to sleep. Later in the day when I was feeling up to visitors, my best friend, Nicole, dropped by to see me. I love my relationship with Nicole – we “get” each other, and our friendship is incredibly easy. When Nicole stopped by, I knew there were no expectations. If I wanted to talk, she’d talk. If I fell asleep, she’d be just fine. If I got tired and just wanted to be alone, I could tell her without fear of hurting her feelings. Nicole is a truly amazing friend.

I was told to take it easy for a couple of days after my surgery, so that weekend I participated in an online worship experience. I spent Saturday and Sunday mornings “church hopping”. You can get a real bird’s eye view of a church service on the Internet. It was during a camera shot of a woman flipping through a bulletin while mouthing the words to a song of praise that it hit me. The magnitude of the moment was completely lost.

People are before their God to offer worship to Him, and they’re shuffling papers, texting, yawning, and checking their watches. And this is common regardless of denomination, worship style, or day of worship. Unfortunately, this is common in my church . . . and sadly, this is common in me. It’s not possible that we are truly realizing the fact that we are coming before our Creator – our Savior – our Alpha and Omega – and that He is actually meeting with us so we can offer Him our heartfelt and selfless worship and beg to be changed into new creatures. Have we come to consider a worship service no differently than I viewed time with Nicole after my surgery? Do we seek an “easy” God who has no expectations of us and doesn’t care if we are distracted or even fall asleep during the time He set aside to be with us?

In his book, The Dangerous Act of Worship, Mark Labberton writes, “If we are committed to protecting who and what we are now, then our greatest need and greatest danger will be in meeting God. Of course, this is also our only hope. This is the wake-up call we may not want, but it alone leads us to new life. Becoming new will complicate our lives. Whether in the power of the whirlwind or in the still small voice of the Spirit, meeting God is no small incident.”

I need to understand and experience authentic worship because I don’t want to remain who and what I am now. I want a complicated new life. And I don’t ever want to walk into a worship experience again thinking of it as a “small incident”. In every opportunity I have to worship God, I want it to be the most important, challenging and life-changing privilege of my existence.

Tami Cinquemani

Sabbath Blog Gone Off Track by Jeff Cinquemani

Whenever I am scheduled to preach, my thoughts during the week preceding the sermon are heightened, to say the least, towards anything that might pertain to the topic being covered. This last weekend, I gave the last sermon in our Sabbath series with a talk entitled “How Fun Can Holy Be?” I think that is why I got caught up in an internet blog focused on the Sabbath. I’m really not sure why, but while I was “Googling” I hit one of the links, and it put me smack-dab in the middle of this Sabbath blog string. So I just began reading the entries. Some were just comments, some were responses to the comments, and some were accusations criticizing others for their opinions either way.

As I kept reading down, page after page, seeing how the conversations almost took on a life of their own, I started to wonder: What question or comment started all of this? Being the “gaming” guy that I am (my wife says I can make a game out of anything), I decided to try and guess what the original post was by looking at the evidence before me. I read them all, from the first entry all the way to the most recent blog. I came up with what I thought were the top three possibilities: 1. What activities do you think God condones on the Sabbath, and what is true reverence? 2. Is there scriptural evidence that the Sabbath was God’s day for us to enjoy and have fun? 3. How “far” can couples “go” on the Sabbath?

As confident as I was about my guesses, I couldn’t have been more wrong. After all the reading, I finally couldn’t wait any longer. I had to see the “results” to my little game. The original blog entry was apparently from a new believer that wrote into a Sabbath Keepers Blog. It read as follows: “I am so very excited about my new found love affair with Christ and the day he’s set aside for me and him to be enjoy our “date”.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to read many of them all over again. How could it have gone so far off track so quickly? I had to respond. I wanted someone to say, “I’m so glad for you!” But unfortunately, I was not a member of the blogsite so it never got posted.

I decided to go ahead and write my sermon, but this week I may join that blogsite!

Jeff Cinquemani