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

This Is Not Where I Belong by Tami Cinquemani

This has been a hard week.  Watching helplessly as tragedy and sadness fall on those around you is frustrating and difficult.  The events in Boston, Central Texas, and China and the death of a church member leave so many questions unanswered.

What was in the mind(s) of the individual(s) who made a choice and took the steps to cause injury and death in what should have been a celebration of endurance and commitment in Boston?  Where is the sense or the purpose in such an act?

And why would the wife of a devoted husband and mother of a young family take her last breath after fighting for years against a disease that refused to allow her the joy and satisfaction of raising her three small children to adulthood?  Where is the sense or the purpose in such a loss?

I read comments on news reports from Boston thanking God for his protection, care, or providence in keeping loved ones safe.  And I wonder if, in making these remarks, people even consider that, if it was God’s choice, God’s decision, God’s plan that THEIR loved one was saved, wouldn’t it also be true that it was God’s choice, decision, and plan that others suffered devastating loss?

How do I, as a Christian, navigate this dichotomy? For me personally, I have come to the conclusion that sometimes there are no answers.  We may want to see things as part of some great plan, but sometimes there’s just chaos.  It is in those times that I need to take inventory of the things of which I am sure. 

I am sure a God of unsurpassed power and limitless perfection created all things.  I am sure sin, suffering, and death were not God’s intention.  I am sure that God has been misunderstood and misrepresented throughout the ages, and that is why Jesus, who is fully God, became a man so we could finally see God clearly represented.  I am sure Jesus shows me a God of unconditional love, unreserved acceptance, and absolute grace.  I am sure that, because of Jesus, one day every person who longs to spend eternity with this God will have their heart’s desire.  Finally, I am extremely sure that I am not the intellectual, physical, or spiritual equivalent of God and, therefore, cannot fully comprehend all things.  However, I do understand that life in this world is not the way it was meant to be and is not the way it will always be, but this is the way things are right now.

Sometimes it feels like I'm watching from the outside.

Sometimes it feels like I'm breathing, but am I alive?

I won't keep searching for answers that aren't here to find.

So when the walls come falling down on me,

And when I'm lost in the current of a raging sea,

I have this blessed assurance holding me.

All I know is I'm not home yet;

This is not where I belong.

Take this world and give me Jesus.

This is not where I belong.*

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” 

I believe these words from Jeremiah 29:11 are God’s plan – and His promise.  I believe that God mourns with us because what He created as perfection and beauty has been taken over by heartbreak and ugliness.  I believe that Jesus is my brother, my friend, my Savior, and my God.  I believe that my faith right now is like “looking through a glass darkly,” but some day it will all be made clear.  I realize some may see this as blind faith, a Pollyanna worldview, and naïve ignorance.  I only hope and pray that my time on this broken planet will prove just the opposite – that my faith is bold, my worldview is hopeful, and my reason is born from a solid relationship with a holy and merciful God. So I will live in this world, and I will embrace those who walk it with me and the journey set before me, but I know we were all created for so much more.

Take this world and give me Jesus.  This is not where I belong.

Tami Cinquemani

*Where I Belong,Building 429, lyrics

A Family That Plays Together by Chad Hess

This past weekend was our annual church retreat.  This is one of my favorite weekends of the year.  It’s a great opportunity to meet new people and develop relationships with our fellow church members.  It's also just a whole lot of fun!  The Saturday night program is my favorite because it's all about having fun and laughing. 

Laughter is a very important part of relationships.  In any great friendship, there are certainly those times where you have the deep intimate conversations.  But there are also lots of times where you are just hanging out and having fun.  As Christians, I think the deep intimate conversations with God are sometimes easier than hanging out and having fun with him.  We know that prayer and worship are spiritual experiences, but we sometimes think of having fun and laughing as "secular" and not spiritual. 

If we really believe that God is always with us, then there is never an activity we do in which God is not present.  But that doesn't mean our life should only be hymns and meditation; we can and should have fun with God.  Let’s not forget it was Jesus who refreshed the wine supply to keep the party going.  For me, our church retreat is a great example of this.

As a dad who works full time, I only get a few hours with my kids each day, and most of that is spent in meals and getting ready for bed.  My favorite "leisure activity" with my kids is tickling them and wrestling with them.  According to my oldest son, this is often his favorite part of the day as well.  I can't explain it, but laughter is a very powerful way of bonding a relationship.  I love the times when I can laugh and have fun with God – particularly when I can do it with my whole church family.

Chad Hess

Building a Legacy of Faith by Francini Reis

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." Matthew 7:7. 

On February 18, Presidents Day, the kids were off school, and I took them to the mall to play and do some shopping. We met my husband, Andre, for lunch and while talking, we heard thunderstorms. I immediately remembered that UPS had left important packages outside of our door, and I had forgotten to bring them inside. 

I prayed to God and told Him that I would love to take the kids to play on the play area even though the packages were unprotected. The spirit impressed me that it would be fine.  Even though the sky seemed ready for a big storm, I went to the play area very confident that God was leading us.

The kids played for about an hour, and then I felt impressed as if God was calling, “It's time to go!”  I got the kids and started heading to the car. On the way, my daughter, Chloe, got distracted with another toy and asked me if she could play there a little bit. Exiting the mall, my other daughter, Pam, asked me to buy her a pretzel. By this time, I was distracted and sort of going my own way and doing my own thing without seeking God’s direction. 

I got in line to buy Pam the pretzel while Chloe and Mckayla, my youngest, played. Suddenly, I remembered my earlier conversational prayer with God about keeping the packages dry. I called the kids, renewed my focus, and on the way to the car, noticed that the clouds were heavy and dark. I loaded the girls and double stroller in the car, and as soon as I started the car, the downpour began. I got desperate and started driving faster.  I looked at Pam and started to doubt God. Why God? Why are you allowing this to happen to me? No!! I can't have this rain right now. Couldn't you wait a little longer?? My disconnection from God brought on my doubts that he was really there and would care for my needs.

Pam, my oldest girl, noticed what was going on and gave me a disappointed look.  Immediately, I changed my attitude. I remembered God's promise about having the faith of a mustard seed and his promise that I could cast all my care on him because he cares for me.  My spirit calmed.  I stopped trying to pass the other cars in front of me to try to move faster. I felt peace.  I told Pam and Chloe that we were only seven minutes away from our house, but that our God was bigger than the heavy rain falling outside. Everything we have is really God’s, and if he wants to keep his packages dry, he can.  He calmed the winds and waves on Galilee, and he can protect his packages.

I prayed, reminding God to take care of the boxes. Though I don’t always get a sense of God’s answers right away, this time I did.  I sensed that God had already answered it. I told my girls that I believed the boxes would be safe and dry even though the rain was pouring out that way. When we were only one block away from our house, we noticed that the ground was not wet at all. I started thanking God for His care. 

The girls were amazed when they saw that God had answered our prayers. Amazed because we don’t always see the answers, and sometimes there seems to be no answer, but this time they saw the rain, they knew about the prayer, and the packages were dry. They looked at each other and said, “Wow! God is really powerful, and He does love us very much.” Maybe not an earth-shaking evidence, but in this small way, God evidenced himself to us that day.

What are we modeling for our kids?  Is God distant and uninvolved, or do we model bringing him into even the small details of life?  How do we teach and model faith that God is part of our lives and not create presumption that he will rescue every situation?  I don’t know exactly, but I do know that talking about faith, praying with our kids, and teaching them to take their concerns to God is part of what God wants from us as parents. He wants us to pass our faith to our kids.

Wednesday, last week I lost my cell phone and a friend’s mom was helping me to locate it, when this friend said: “You have to pray more! Do you remember when you told us in chapel that when we lose something we can pray?” Wow! He remembered it. Do we always find the lost item we pray about?  Of course not, but we want our children to be in a conversational relationship with God so he is included in their world.  

Whether a bowling ball goes in the right direction isn’t solving world hunger, or all the injustice of the world. But when Chloe, my 5-year-old daughter, was fearful about bowling with the Pathfinders (a scout-type group at our church), how great that she would think, in that moment of inadequacy, of praying, talking to God in her childlike way, that God would help her throw the ball in the right direction!

Every family will approach faith and prayer in their own family context; the important thing is to build a legacy of faith and God connection to pass onto the kids around us.  I want my kids and all those I serve to feel God close to them. I want them to experience God in their lives in every aspect of it. I want them to know that God cares for and loves every single one of us. 

"If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.  Ask and you will receive.”  Matthew 7:11,7

Francini Reis

The Golden Fortress (A Parable) by John Monday

There was once a band of artisans, craftsmen, and philosophers who lived together in peace and joy with their King.  One day their King told them about the many principalities where greed and selfishness ruled in the hearts of men.  The good citizens were aghast at the thought of such depravity.

The King explained that, while the many peoples had once been a part of a single kingdom, most had completely forgotten their origins, or the memory had become so distant and remote that it was considered no more than a myth.  As they sat at the King’s feet, he told them that he was going to reconcile the principalities and that they were to be his emissaries.

As the King prepared to send his subjects to the distant lands, he gave them a new name.  He said, “You are to go to the principalities of the world and give your knowledge, your skill, your love, and even your life to the people.  While you are to serve everywhere and live together with the people of every land, you are citizens of this Kingdom and will never call any other place home.  For that reason you will be called Nomad, a traveler far from home, with goodwill toward all and malice toward none.”  And the Nomads began their journey.

After many days, they began to see an endless line of people leaving a city.  The fleeing people were poor, dirty, and increasingly afraid.  One group stopped the Nomads and told them to turn and flee, that the city was filled with death.  The Nomads continued, undaunted. 

On their first view of the city wall, some began to falter.  The city was big, ominous, and intimidating.  The walls they saw before them were dark and dirty, crudely built by clumsy hands, nothing like the shining and beautiful city of their King. 

When they entered the city, death was everywhere.  A plague had struck the city, and bodies were piled in the streets.  The citizens didn’t understand how the plague started, how it spread, or how to stop it.  They had become so scared that parents would abandon their own children at the first symptom of the plague.  Those who were able left the city, while the rest suffered.

Remembering the words of their King, the Nomads entered.  They cared for the sick, buried the dead, and loved the city in the name of their King.  Soon enough, the plague began to abate, and the prince of the city lauded the Nomads, their selfless sacrifice, and all they had done in service to his people.  The Nomads explained their purpose, and many in the city began to follow the Nomad way. 

As the Nomads continued to spread, they never found a city with the beauty, culture, or intellect of their home.  Many cities welcomed them, many rejected them.  Some gave them responsibility, and others made them slaves.  While the Nomads served everywhere they went, they always longed for their home and an escape from the crassness of the people they encountered.

After many years, they found a city that offered incredible freedom and autonomy.  They were welcomed as advisors but soon became leaders.  They began to rebuild the city according to the fading memory of their true Kingdom.  The bricks they cut for the city walls were finer than any they’d encountered since leaving the presence of the King.  The walls were so purely refined that the city itself began to look like a golden crown on the top of a mountain.

Soon there were few in the city that didn’t call themselves Nomads.  Many Nomads who had dispersed to the corners of the Earth began to reassemble in this city.  While the Nomads always welcomed people into their city, those that did not adopt the Nomad way, or found themselves unable to rise to the level of the Nomad craftsmen, or speak the peculiar jargon of the Nomad philosophers, quietly fell out of grace, felt out of place, and left the city.

Villages of tents sprang up around the city filled with those that were not capable of living the Nomadic way.  The Nomads would lower the bridge from their gleaming walls and send ministers to the villages daily.  They committed resources and continued to invite all those capable of upholding the Nomad way to live in the city.

Their city became their refuge and their protection.  Inside the walls, their children were safe from the influences of the tent people.  The creations of their hands were not corrupted by the untrained and untalented, and they were able to keep the ways of the Nomad pure and undefiled by those outside their walls.

One day as they lowered the gate, they saw a great procession on the horizon.  So vast was the approaching army that their dust obscured the sun.  At long last when they saw the true King approaching their walls, their gates were thrown open, and soldiers were sent out to clear the tents from the path of the King.

The King entered the city to the shouts of the citizens, but they slowly began to realize that there was no celebration.  They looked up to see a silently weeping King standing in their midst.  The Prince of the city asked the King why he was crying, and he said, “I’m searching for my people!”  The prince, terrified at his words, fell at his feet and said, “Oh King! It’s us, the Nomads you sent away.  We’ve kept pure your truths and protected your ways in the midst of ignorant and barbaric people.”

The King turned and said, “I sent a people to bring the good news of reconciliation to the poor and sick, the clumsy and the ignorant, the frightened and the homeless.  To give their lives in service and love.” 

“My people are there,” he said as he pointed to the tent villages surrounding the city.  The King turned, left the city of the Nomads, and gathered a new people from the tents and villages.  His army swelled as he left the plains of the great Nomad city, never to return again.

John Monday