I realize not everybody believes in “global warming.” And it isn’t the point of this blog to plunge into that academic and/or scientific debate. But the flurry of headlines this past week over our nation’s record temperature deserves some reflection. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has announced that 2012 was the hottest year on record for the United States. According to their calculations the average daily temperature in our nation last year was 55.3 degrees—which, as it turns out, is one degree higher than the previous record in 1998, and 3.2 degrees more than the average temperature of the 20th century. Apparently the rise of even one degree is startling, given that national averages usually rise or fall in tenths of a degree. Coupled with this headline is a report a week ago that snowfall this season is already lagging. According to climatologists, recovery from last year’s withering drought necessitates at least eight feet of snow this winter, with some estimates placing our snow need as high as 150+ inches. Will we get it? Fifty degrees this weekend doesn’t make this winter seem very promising! Even the mighty Mississippi River is protesting. Some officials are worried that because of the drop in river levels, barge traffic south of St. Louis could possibly be halted. The Army Corp of Engineers is dredging the river this winter to keep it passable for deep-keeled vessels. Then there’s all the talk last year about Antarctica and Greenland experiencing unprecedented ice sheet melting. But review the various studies posted over the last couple months and it’s clear scientists aren’t agreed on the magnitude of that loss, or even its causes. As these weather headlines come and go, I must confess that tucked away in the back of my mind is that apocalyptic description of an endtime earth in Revelation: “Then the fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and power was given to him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great heat” (Revelation 16:8-9). I’m certainly not suggesting that this spate of weather headlines is proof we are experiencing the fourth plague! But it is intriguing that an apocalyptic description of earth at the end of time is not one of a new spreading Ice Age, but rather a depiction of intensifying and destructive solar heat. All of which is simply a reminder that all of us earth children are truly dependent on the Lord of Nature for our daily sustenance and survival on this planet. Our nearest star and the seasons it regulates are under His omnipotent control. And when one day earth becomes the last battleground between the dark knight and the Morning Star, for His friends God promises: “The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night” (Psalm 121:6). So let the weather patterns continue to perplex meteorologists. Whatever 2013’s temperatures turn out to be, our hope and trust this New Year is in the One who used to walk on the storms when He was here.
Pastors' Blog
By Pioneer Pastors
I found CNN.com’s departing religion editor Dan Gilgoff’s observations this week insightful. His final blog before joining the National Geographic team lists “5 things I’ve learned” from his blogging on religion for CNN these last few years. Can we learn something from what he’s learned? (http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/12/31/my-take-5-things-i-learned-editing-the-belief-blog/): 1. “The faith/meaning angles off breaking news can yield meaningful, important stories.” He discusses the recent Connecticut school massacre. “Trying to make sense of seemingly senseless deaths and suffering is a fundamental human struggle.” And when he reported how people were struggling with the “Where was God?”, his blog elicited nearly 8,000 comments. The point? Irrespective of their religious persuasion (or the lack of it), people are eager to talk about belief and God and life’s meaning. Which means that you and I don’t have to hold back our convictions or conversations about faith and God, especially in a time of national tragedy. People want to talk—and that’s the right entre for your witness with stranger or neighbor. 2. “The explosion of people with no religion will be a huge story in this century, and the news media have only begun to explore its many implications.” As I noted here in a previous Fourth Watch blog, the religious “nones” are a growing slice of the American demographic—men, women, young adults who indicate “none” when surveyed about their religion. The church—and I’m thinking of my own congregation—cannot afford to hurry through the New Year assuming that everyone around it has an ear or a heart for God. More and more do not. What are we doing to connect with these who are building what Gilgoff calls “a post-religious existence.” 3. “Religion reporting shouldn’t be an inside game.” His point with this lesson is simply that an interest in the religion/faith angle of a story isn’t the curious domain for only the faithful. More and more political, social, even entertainment and sports stories are woven with the stuff of faith. Take, for example, the recent presidential campaign, which clearly bore the trappings of the candidates’ faith practice. To ignore the faith/religion angle to news events is to risk missing a defining DNA of the individuals or events. For those who believe, locating the faith nexus is another helpful entre in conversing with this generation about God. Look for the angles. 4. “The news media isn’t anti-religion.” While you and I may have concluded otherwise long ago, Gilgoff’s lesson deserves some reflection. His point is that news organizations like CNN are actually “fascinated by religion because it yields stories brimming with meaning, controversy and powerful characters.” Reporters and media outlets are not by definition anti-God or anti-religion (though there are plenty within their ranks who reflect that bias). Could it be that we will be open to fresh insights about the society Christ has called us to reach if we aren’t so quick to dismiss news and media commentators and commentaries as implicitly against God and religion. 5. “In the world of digital journalism, your voice matters more than ever.” Gilgoff ends his final religion blog with an appeal to his readers to voice their convictions. “With the proliferation of reader comments, social media and instantaneous metrics on what our audiences are clicking and how they’re responding, your choices and opinions are shaping our coverage more than ever.” Not a bad suggestion for Jesus’ third millennial disciples, is it? Gilgoff goes on, “Some of our best content from the last year was more about conversations happening around the news than about the news itself. We choose to do certain stories and skip others partly based on whether you’re engaged in those stories or not.” So as a believer don’t just blow away an urge to respond to a news event or a website/blog commentary. Your faith perspective in that collective cyberspace conversation could plant the seed that will germinate the quest for faith in reader far away. After all, who do you suppose created cyberspace in the first place? “You are My witnesses” (Isaiah 43:10).

On this day after December 21, 2012, the good news is we’re still here! Bands of New Agers, in particular, have been holding their collective breath as our civilization approached the fateful date: 4 Ahaw, 3 K’ank’in. That’s the date, the ancient long count Mayan calendars predicted, on which the sun would rise for the first time in 26,000 years at precisely the juncture of earth’s orbit with the giant inky rift in the Milky Way the Mayans called “Xibalba Be.” And at that moment of intersection (the winter solstice, 2012), the pent-up energy of the universe—having accumulated over a period of 13 baktuns (144,000-day cycles)—will discharge, these ancients calculated, and earth will face . . . . And frankly here the prophetic picture becomes murky with some Mayan authorities suggesting the predicted event to be an ushering into an age of glorious transformation, while others conclude the Mayans predicted a cataclysmic ending to this civilization. But irrespective of the various hypotheses, the reality is that you and are still here on this joyful Sabbath before Christmas. Which is no reason to belittle the ancient Mayans. According to a piece by Ed Dickerson in Signs of the Times magazine (December 2012), “the sophistication and complexity of the Mayan mathematics make their predictions difficult to ignore. Their mastery of mathematics—they were among the earliest to use the concept of zero—and their careful observation of celestial objects enabled them to construct calendars (17 in all) based on the movements of the sun, moon, several planets, and even ‘precession,’ the slight wobble in earth’s rotation that takes 25,800 years to complete!” (p 33) Two thousand years ago a band of Oriental sages—magi or wise men, as we remember them—engaged in their own celestial calculations. Pouring over the ancient script of the fourth book of Moses, they attempted to correlate the sudden appearance of a distant nighttime celestial body in their heavens with the prophecy of an early member of the magi named Balaam: “A Star shall come out of Jacob; a Scepter shall rise out of Israel” (Numbers 24:17). Believing the night phenomenon they were witnessing to be linked to this mysterious prophecy, these magi set out to follow that star in search of the promised King, with perhaps less mathematical calculus or precision than the even more ancient Mayans. The Mayans and the magi—ancient precursors to bands of men and women today who still search the night heavens and wonder what the dark future will bring. The dark night rises, but so does the Morning Star. “I wonder as I wander out under the sky,” the Appalachian carol sings, “why Jesus the Savior did come for to die.” (Haven’t we wondered the same?) “ . . . for poor, ornery creatures like you and like I.” (The carol knows us too well.) “. . . I wonder as I wander out under the sky.” No wonder we have nothing to fear for the future, except that we forget how God has come to us in the past. As you light a candle this Christmas Eve and ponder the mystery of this God-coming, may the flickering promise that He shall come again, this Christ Child King, invade your heart and your calendar with the very best gift of all: hope.

On Tuesday the Daily Beast website announced the latest Gallup poll findings with this headline, “Gallup Survey Finds a Majority of Americans Still Religious.” Based on 300,000 interviews the survey found that seven out of ten Americans consider themselves “moderate or very religious.” That’s 70% of this nation! The Gallup research “shows basically what American religion surveys always show: the country is overwhelmingly religious, with a very slowly increasing number of nonbelievers, and a slightly faster increase in ‘unbranded’ religious believers” (http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/12/04/gallup-survey-finds-a-majority-of-americans-still-religious.html). “Overwhelmingly religious”—is this cause for celebration? Frankly, I’m grateful for every American heart (or non-American, for that matter) that seeks to find solace and security, even salvation, in God and/or faith. Why wouldn’t that be reason to be grateful? Naturally, none of us knows each other’s soul, and so no one is in a position to determine how many of these seven out of 10 are genuinely entrusting their lives to the Divine (however their religion or faith understands and describes God). But stay with this thought for a moment. A globally influential nation with a strong majority populace that considers itself “moderate or very religious” would be amenable (or susceptible), would it not, to overtly religious appeals or persuasion? I.e., if God and faith are dominant in my worldview, an appeal to me to support or take certain action —if that appeal were based upon God and faith—would gain my attention and perhaps even guide my response. Most would agree that a nation with seven out of 10 of its citizens self-identifying as “moderate or very religious” is a society certainly open to religious appeal. And if that appeal were made by a respected individual or even institution, for 70% of Americans the appeal would be favorably weighted, I suppose. But lest you conclude that to be bad news, consider this. For the last semester we have revisited the biblical description of the apocalyptic endgame just before the return of Christ: “The Dark Night Rises,” “Three Angels, One Warning,” and now “The Morning Star Rises.” Two realities are clear—(1) the endgame will happen suddenly catching most earth inhabitants by surprise, and (2) the final showdown will devolve around worship, worship of the Creator or worship of a counterfeit image of the Divine. The good news is 70% of Americans may be very open to considering the religious appeal that the Creator and His “Three Angels” community of faith must make. Rather than assuming they will all be manipulated by a deceptive religious appeal, why not pray that in fact they will be favorably open to the divine appeal, “Come out of her My people” (Revelation 18:4)? So let the nay-sayers who are decrying a godless Christmas season cry on. You and I can instead pray on—on behalf of the 70% and the 100%—that the Christ who came that starry night long ago and who is yet to come one glorious Day soon—that He might grant to you and me the winsome appeal to reach out for Him, not only to the seven out of ten but to the ten out of ten! Why not?

I’m afraid I have to agree with the blogger who commented: “Black Friday—the most embarrassing day of the year for me as an American.” He then embedded in his blog someone’s video clip of shoppers in a real, live melee at Wal-Mart last Friday. Embarrassing? You be the judge (http://libertyblitzkrieg.com/). But perhaps even more embarrassing is the latest sales report from retailers. With businesses opening on Thanksgiving night (kudos to the financial genius who came up with that novel suggestion), the weekend total for US retail sales was $59.1 billion, up 13% from the year before. Because of our massive national indebtedness of $16+ trillion, I realize that the figure you just read may seem paltry in comparison. But look at that number again: $59.1 billion. Do you know how much that is? Who does?! And yet in a nation where 47 million of us now are having to subsist on food stamps, that’s how much Americans spent on their family, their friends and themselves. In just one weekend. “God bless America” indeed! Somebody I overheard this week quipped, “We ought to be celebrating these numbers—after all, sales like these keep Americans working.” Oh really? Do you seriously suppose that American shopping binges are the boon to an economy that is hopelessly in debt. In fact, I wonder how much of this $59.1 billion was purchased by plastic, boosting the already bulging bankrolls of credit card corporations. Keeping Americans employed? Get serious. Keeping Americans in debt may be the most transparent analysis. So how does the follower of Christ relate to obscene spending like the weekend past, and to the impoverished Americans who live all around us in this county? “Listen—I pay my taxes—there are entitlement programs to care for the needy—and besides, whose business is it how much money I decide to spent on Christmas!” Sounds like a third millennial Ebenezer Scrooge to me: “Are there not poor houses for people like these? Then send them there—I will not give one penny more.” Aren’t you glad God is no Scrooge? After all, what is the meaning of this season’s underlying (but awfully hard to hear above the din of the shoppers) narrative? Ever ponder Emily E. S. Elliott’s words in that carol we love to sing? Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown When Thou camest to earth for me; But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room For Thy holy nativity. Not just “a king” and “a crown”—the story of Christmas is the midnight-splitting pronouncement that The King and The Crown of a billion billion galaxies stripped Himself of throne and glory, and descended to this “dark, dirty” race to save us. And I remind you, we were hardly “on sale”—it was not a good buy—which is why no other buyer stepped forward. Which is also why Christmas and Calvary are forever now inseparable. For in the light that shines from the Face in the cradle, from the Face on the cross, we behold in undimmed splendor “the glory of self-sacrificing love” (Desire of Ages 19). Self-sacrificing love. Black Friday healed by Good Friday. It’s how your heart and mind can yet be healed this Christmas, this very day, right now. As the carol ends, “O come to my heart, Lord Jesus, there is room in my heart for Thee.”
Nathaniel Philbrick, in Mayflower, his acclaimed history of the Pilgrims, recounts how William Bradford, the intrepid leader of that courageous band of Puritans, years later described “that first morning in America.” Recalling with wonder their landing on the salty, windswept shores of Cape Cod Bay on November 15, 1620, Bradford wrote: “But here I cannot stay and make a pause and stand half amazed at this poor people’s present condition. . . . [T]hey had now no friends to welcome them nor inns to entertain or refresh their weather-beaten bodies; no houses or much less towns to repair to, to seek for succor. What could sustain them but the spirit of God and His Grace? May not and ought not the children of these fathers rightly say: ‘Our fathers were Englishmen which came over this great ocean, and were ready to perish in this wilderness; but they cried unto the Lord, and He heard their voice and looked on their adversity’” (46). His words are appropriate, not only because we celebrate the nearly four-century tradition of the Pilgrims’ thanksgiving this week. But in Bradford’s description—“they cried unto the Lord, and He heard their voice and looked on their adversity”—perhaps we also hear the faint hint of a day of adversity yet coming upon this land of the Pilgrims. Could the breath-taking speed with which this nation’s hourly economic headlines are unfolding or unraveling these last few weeks be a portent of what is yet to come? Could this land of the free have already seen her best days? Scribbled on the page of Revelation 13 in my Bible are these words written a century ago: “The Lord has done more for the United States than for any other country upon which the sun shines” (Ms 17, 1906). Hardly a prideful claim of superiority or grounds for national arrogance, this quiet observation simply declares a common truth that this country has enjoyed the uncommon blessings of Providence. And in the sunlight, how easy is the spirit of thanksgiving. But should the days turn dark and the supernal blessings wither away, what shall we be grateful for then? A year after their landing, the Pilgrims gathered for that first thanksgiving—half of their band already buried beneath the Massachusetts sod. Yet they gave thanks to God. And so must we—no matter the uncertain voyage that spreads before us, nationally or personally. The Almighty is still that. And in the darkest storm His mercy will yet triumph. Just look at Calvary. “Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever” (Psalm 136:1 NKJV).
All that’s left of the election on this morning after is a handful of janitors in Chicago and Boston, sweeping up the scattered confetti or packing it away for another day. I realize we live in a world where life pretty much is defined by winning and losing, the victors and the vanquished. But in all candor, wouldn’t it be glorious if we could come up with a way that would excise the sting of defeat from sports and politics and academics and business and church and relationships and life? You say—but that’s simply the way it is on this planet—you win some, you lose some. Perhaps. But “win-some” it isn’t, is it? And besides, who says we have to? After all in a land faraway and a time long ago there once was a Kingdom where there were no losers. Nobody suffered the sting of defeat or the agony of loss, simply because in that Kingdom the rules of the game were that there is no game. Life is simply a glorious opportunity to spend yourself for the sake and success of everyone else. And so because no one set out to win, nobody had to be a loser. From the throne on down, self-giving was the secret of their happiness and the modus operandi of their peace. But you know the story well—the tranquility of that peaceful and contented Kingdom was shattered the day someone made the dark decision that winning is really what matters most, winning at any cost. Which, of course, also meant losing at a very high cost—a cost so high that it eventually cost the Kingdom a lost planet and a dying King. But before He died, Jesus taught the secret of His Kingdom in those radical words, “‘Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and the gospel will save it’” (Mark 8:35 NIV). Given this fallen culture, the King describes life in terms of winning and losing. But did you notice, the way to win is to lose? For “‘whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all’” (Mark 10:43, 44). Gone now the sting of defeat, simply because you refuse to make winning your goal and you choose to make losing yourself in service to others your mission. Why, if every one of us chose to live by Christ’s radical credo, the confetti we’d be sweeping up would always be for someone else.
Does America have a future? Of course it does. But I fear for it. The presidential debate on Tuesday evening reveals a nation sharply divided, each candidate championing the cause of his political supporters. Class division, racial division, economic division, philosophical or ideological division—while it can be argued that every election exposes the divide in our nation, the reality is that this one seems ratcheted up exponentially, no small thanks to the incendiary fueling injected into our national conversation by 24/7 "real time" internet commentary. Consider the potential fall-out from either election outcome. Were the President to be reelected, the hostility of the political right in this nation could threaten governmental gridlock before which the past four years would pale in comparison. Were the President to be defeated, the bitter outcry of the political left could threaten vast swaths of national life through economic boycott and strikes. The truth is that either election outcome could potentially sound the death knell for an already moribund economy. Class and racial divisions? The fallout implications of such potential strife is beyond calculation (but not imagination). I fear for America's future. Does that mean Christian voters, Seventh-day Adventists included, should abdicate their citizenry right and responsibility to vote? Not at all. In the words of our Lord, we must "render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's" (see Matthew 22:21). But given what lies ahead for this nation, irrespective of our political persuasions or private votes, the second half to Jesus' admonition is even more binding, "and render to God the things that are God's." And what belongs to God in a season of such national divide, on the eve of such economic distress? Surely this hour demands our most fervent prayers for this land. "Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all . . . for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence" (1 Timothy 2:1, 2). We must band together to pray for the leaders of this nation and every nation on earth. The unthinkable fallout inevitable with economic collapse portends a chapter neither the church nor the nation is prepared to face. May not God yet spare His people for the critical Three Angels mission that is our raison detre? That is, after all, Paul's compelling reason for intercessory prayer: "For this [praying] is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all . . . to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Timothy 2:3, 4). We must pray and labor for the salvation of Americans, for the salvation of the inhabitants of every nation on earth—for all earth children are to be the recipients of God's urgent Three Angel appeal and warning. In my short lifetime I have not witnessed a more consequential season than this one. And so I earnestly pray for the awakening of the church I love and for the salvation of the country I inhabit. And I urge you now to join me in these prayers.

The internet and wire services have been abuzz with this week’s national survey report from Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life. “For the first time in this nation’s history, the United States does not have a Protestant majority” (http://news.yahoo.com/report-us-protestants-lost-majority...). The new study reports that Protestant adults now comprise 48% of the nation. And apparently nobody is surprised. After all, for the first time there are no Protestants on the U.S. Supreme Court or on the Republican presidential ticket. So what’s the big deal? Among other demographic notables contributing to this decline in Protestants, Pew researchers report “a spike in the number of Americans who say they have no religion.” That’s an increase from 15% to 20% of the populace over the last five years. I.e., one out of every five Americans declares “none” when asked to describe their religious affiliation. Is America destined to follow Western Europe into a burgeoning secularism? Over recent years church attendance on that continent has plummeted, leading Pope Benedict XVI to convene this week a three-week synod of bishops from around the world, “aimed at bringing back Roman Catholics who have left the church.” It is clear from Pew research that in the U.S. Protestants, Catholics and Christianity in general are facing a major challenge in retaining their adherents. So what does that mean for a university congregation like ours? Pew finds that “one-third of adults under age 30 have no religious affiliation, compared to 9% of people 65 and older.” That means that the demographic slice of young adults represented by this university is the least likely to pursue religious affiliation. But that does not mean this one-third is godless. To the contrary the Pew category of unaffiliated “encompasses majorities of people who say they believe in God, and a notable minority who pray daily or consider themselves ‘spiritual’ but not ‘religious.’” So what will it take for young-on-young or older-on-young to reach them? Isn’t the strategy Jesus modeled the most effective one for us, too? “The Saviour mingled with [people] as one who desired their good. He showed His sympathy for them, ministered to their needs, and won their confidence. Then He bade them, ‘Follow Me’” (Ministry of Healing 143). For a generation increasingly distancing itself from formal religion, Jesus’ method of growing friendships with those He wanted to reach makes sense, doesn’t it? Drop in on their dorm room, join them at the cafeteria, engage a conversation around their interests, put them on your prayer list, invite them to join you—i.e., set out to win their friendship. Because apparently it’s always been true—the “nones” and the “unaffiliated” will say “yes” to your friendship while they say “none” to your religion. So I say, like Jesus let’s go for the “yes” first—then the “none” will follow.

A few nights ago, Karen and I stood on the portico of the Lincoln Memorial in the nation’s capital. It was this Lincoln who once observed, “It is good policy to never plead what you need not, lest you oblige yourself to prove what you can not.” The adage may be true for politics, but not for evangelism—that divine calling that compels the community of faith to both plead what it must and prove what it can on behalf of Christ’s evangel. Which is why on the next night the Korean Adventist community gathered across this continent as the KNET 2012 satellite series, “A Future and a Friendship You Can Count On,” was beamed from outside the nation’s capital to North America. Two and half million Koreans live in the United States and Canada—15,000 of them Seventh-day Adventists, who are passionate about reaching their compatriots far from their homeland. Thus it was my privilege to stand beside Pastor Don Kim and preach nightly—in English and Korean—to the fifty to sixty downlink sites across the continent. The truth is we were flying on the updraft of ten thousand prayers! The Korean Christian community is known the world over for its deep commitment to collective praying. Korean houses of worship on any continent open early in the morning and close late at night for prayer meetings. As we were preparing to leave our hotel this Sunday for the drive home, a Korean family stopped by to say good-bye. I apologized to them for having to awaken early to meet us before we left. Iris, a young board certified pediatrician at nearby Johns Hopkins, said not to worry, “We were at prayer meeting this morning at 6.” On a Sunday morning? At 6? Korean Adventists believe in the power of collective prayer! And it was clear to me that God honored both their intercessions and their evangelism. Anchorage, Toronto, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Boston, New York City, Chicago, and yes, Berrien Springs—as the nightly reports came in from the multiple sites, our team of pastors and church members at the host site in the Baltimore First church rejoiced. This is the first time the Korean Adventist community has undertaken a project like this in North America. (Previous events were uplinked from Seoul and relayed to America.) And so you can sense the enthusiasm in the air at our site with the large white HOPE-TV satellite truck outside—LA reported 40 guests in attendance and Napa called in with news that nine individuals will be baptized this Sabbath (two reports in English I could understand), and our own attendance in Baltimore grew nightly until Sabbath morning’s full house of worship. The Korean women’s choir, Bistori (“The Sound of Light”)—replete with colorful garb and heavenly music, flew in from LA Friday for the final two sessions. It was a God-blessed event—because you prayed. And so I end this brief report with a personal word of thanksgiving to my home congregation. Your own passion to share the everlasting gospel and your commitment to partner in prayer are two very special gifts for which I continually thank God. And I dream of the day when team after team of young and not-so-young evangelists-to-be are sent out from this campus and congregation to a world that desperately needs to know Jesus. After all, who better to obey His command, “Go into all the world,” than this university named after a missionary, whose bronze arm outside our front door keeps pointing to the lost world that is our mission, too?
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