Pastors' Blog

Like teetering dominos, the Islamic giants of the Middle East fill our news. Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain, Algeria, Morocco, Libya, Iran—will Saudia Arabia, Jordan, Syria and the smaller nations be exempt from the sweeping unrest that has already spread across the desert sands of these neighbors? Regarding this time of immense instability and uncertainty in the Middle East, I ponder these two observations. Number one, clearly this political and social upheaval is being fueled by the young of these Islamic societies. Banded together and spurred on by the social networks, Facebook and Twitter, it is dominantly the young who are the driving force behind the revolutionary upheavals. The YouTube clips, the nightly news coverage, the tweeted messages crisscrossing the region in nanoseconds—belong to youthful faces and voices. I wonder what would happen would the young of Christianity, the young of Adventism, the young of this university—were they to band together and become an indomitable force for the God of the universe. What will awaken the sleeping giant of the young here in the West—do you wonder, too? My second observation grows out of the memory of how stunningly fast the “iron curtain” of communism came down in 1989. What the world and even the church had resigned themselves to—an unbreachable wall of separation between the East and the West—literally overnight collapsed. And lands forbidden, as it were, to the everlasting gospel were suddenly opened and accessible. And for one brief and shining moment, the hungry masses “behind the wall” poured into public lecture halls to hear for the first time the everlasting gospel. Could it be that the Middle East itself might yet open similarly? While the socio-religio-political dynamics are radically different between Eastern Europe in the 1990s and the Middle East in the 2010s, nevertheless the possibility of a similar brief and shining moment of opportunity is just as real, is it not? Who will be ready to respond? Will the church? Will you? I would like to appeal, particularly to the young who are reading this blog—could it be that God will call you (irrespective of your degree or career) to become part of his frontline, rapid-response team in the Middle East one day? The more I read, the more I ponder and pray, the more convicted I am that God has raised up this community of faith to be a connecting bridge with our Muslim brothers and sisters. The fanatical elements of both Islam and Christianity would seek to destroy any divine bridging, but a generation of young radical followers of God in our faith community could be the very catalyst God needs to communicate his endtime appeal to the human race, to his Muslim children the world over. And so I urge you to make this notion of becoming a radical missionary for the Kingdom a matter of earnest personal praying. Who knows but that “for such a time as this” God has personally raised you up! (Listen carefully to “The Radicals”—Part 6.) We are all watching history in the making. God help us, however, to do more than watch. Instead let us help write the history God has always dreamed could be: “After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands” (Revelation 7:9). Let’s make that history for God.

I know it isn’t a church holiday, but when we were kids, giving each other those little red and pink cards on Valentine’s Day was a favorite pastime. I don’t suppose we ever really figured out the meaning of that innocuously short query that we scribbled in third grade penmanship on those floppy heart-shaped cut-outs. Nevertheless we handed it out to all our friends at school: “Will you be Mine?”

It’s the call of divine heart, is it not? “Will you be mine?” asks the God of the universe who for millennia now has been desperately trying to win back the hearts of a runaway and rebel race. “Will you be mine?” Why it’s as if all the children God already has around his dinner table in heaven aren’t enough—as if he’ll never be really, truly happy and contented until we say “yes” and come and join him, too. “Will you be Mine?”

When I fell in love with Karen, before I’d even gotten to know her, it was the utter preoccupation of my teenage heart to get her attention. I knew each day that as I headed for the cafeteria at SMC (“Southern Matrimonial College”), she’d be coming out of one of her nursing classes and I could pass her on the sidewalk. And so every day, in one of those foolish (but effective) teenage rituals, I’d drop my head when I spotted her and pretend to be deep in thought while staring at the sidewalk in front of me, but all the while maneuvering my steps so that I would practically run straight into her. Then there’d be the burst of laughter, the quick apology about “not” seeing her there, and with her face fresh in mind I’d be on my way. Who can know “the way of a man with a maiden” (Proverbs 30:19 NIV)?

But then, the ways of Love divine are as inexplicable at times, aren’t they? Explain to the rest of us, please, the compelling passion that drives a God from his great white throne to our dark, fallen earth, all for what? That we might be granted the chance to cry at the top of our lungs, “We have no king but Caesar”? And with that ugly refrain repeating inside of him, this rejected God stumbles on to the place of his execution. And as they stretch out his naked frame and pin him to that stake, with every thud of the mallet upon those nails, the question he came to earth to ask is hammered out: “Will you be Mine?”

“‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life’” (John 3:16). On Valentine’s Day it will be this story that I will be sharing. Join us in South Bend (7 p.m.). Pray for me and us right now, so that God’s “Will you be Mine?” will be an arrow through every listening heart.

Three people died this week: Don Kirshner, the veteran music mogul, hailed a “legend” for his creation and management of young rock groups in the 60s and 70s, including the Monkees; Sargent Shriver, described as the most influential non-elected politician in U.S. history, serving his brother-in-law John Kennedy’s administration as head of the Peace Corp and leading the War on Poverty for President Lyndon Johnson; and, an unnamed and unknown elderly man in Mongolia. The first two are being feted in the national press for their portfolios of achievement. The third is remembered only by the family he loved and the village he served throughout his unnoticed, publicly unremarkable life. Why consider the three? Because somewhere in our pantheon of cultural icons we as earth children have been fooled into the notion that the “legends” created by the press, the media and the public’s raucous clamor for the next “American Idol” are who matter most. But of course we know better . . . don’t we? It was Jesus who acclaimed the anonymous and unfeted of humanity by especially recognizing “whoever gives one of these little ones only a cup of cold water in the name of a disciple” (Matthew 10:42). No public office, no tabloid headline—just the anonymous gift of a cool drink of water to some stranger in need. And it is that one, Jesus declared, who “shall by no means lose his [eternal] reward.” No wonder these words a century ago: “Do not shut yourselves up to yourselves, satisfied to pour out all your affection upon each other. Seize every opportunity to contribute to the happiness of those around you, sharing with them your affection. Words of kindness, looks of sympathy, expressions of appreciation, would to many a struggling, lonely one be as a cup of cold water to a thirsty soul. A word of cheer, an act of kindness, would go far to lighten the burdens that are resting heavily upon weary shoulders. It is in unselfish ministry that true happiness is found. And every word and deed of such service is recorded in the books of heaven as done for Christ” (7T 50, emphasis supplied). Reminds me of the librarian poet Sam Walter Foss’s composition, “The House by the Side of the Road.” It’s a credo you and I can live by this year, can’t we? There are hermit souls that live withdrawn In the place of their self-content; There are souls like stars, that dwell apart, In a fellowless firmament; There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths Where highways never ran— But let me live by the side of the road And be a friend to man. Let me live in a house by the side of the road Where the race of men go by— The men who are good and the men who are bad, As good and as bad as I. I would not sit in the scorner's seat Nor hurl the cynic's ban— Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man. I see from my house by the side of the road By the side of the highway of life, The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife, But I turn not away from their smiles and tears, Both parts of an infinite plan— Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man. I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead, And mountains of wearisome height; That the road passes on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night. And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice And weep with the strangers that moan, Nor live in my house by the side of the road Like a man who dwells alone. Let me live in my house by the side of the road, Where the race of men go by— They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, Wise, foolish - so am I. Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat, Or hurl the cynic's ban? Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.

Scientists think they’ve found the secret to our good and bad habits. It has to do with the pleasure-sensing chemical dopamine, coursing up and down our body’s internal highways. According to an AP report this week, dopamine “conditions the brain to want that reward again and again—reinforcing the connection each time—especially when it gets the right cue from your environment” (South Bend Tribune 1-4-11). For example, you enjoy munching on chips (no doubt a healthful kind). You usually do it before supper, while you’re watching the evening news. (I know the routine well!) Dopamine links your desire for those chips to the environmental stimulus of watching the evening news, and pretty soon your brain’s dopamine-rich striatum region links both activities to a desired reward—pleasurable taste and relaxation. Turn on the news, get hungry for chips—munch some chips, turn on the television. The more repetitions, the stronger the dopamine tie that binds.

“‘Why are bad habits stronger? You’re fighting against the power of an immediate reward,’ says Dr. Nora Volkow, director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse and an authority on the brain’s pleasure pathway. It’s the fudge vs. broccoli choice: Chocolate’s yum factor tends to beat out the knowledge that sticking with veggies brings an eventual reward of lost pounds. ‘We all as creatures are hard-wired that way, to give greater value to an immediate reward as opposed to something that’s delayed,’ Volkow says” (ibid).

And the problem is that we tend to overestimate our ability to resist temptations around us, “thus undermining attempts to shed bad habits, says experimental psychologist Loran Nordgren, an assistant professor at Northwestern University’s Kellogg School of Management. ‘People have this self-control hubris, this belief they can handle more than they can,’ says Nordgren, who studies the tug-of-war between willpower and temptation” (ibid).

All of which means that establishing good habits and ridding bad habits requires more than simply composing another list of New Year’s resolutions. “Been there—done that.” Based on this AP report of their studies, here are five new routines researchers recommend adding to your good-habits strategy:

“Repeat, repeat, repeat the new behavior—the same routine at the same time of day.” Pick a time of day, select an activity, and stick to it. Personal prayer and Bible study first thing the morning. Walking, jogging, working out at the same time each day. The striatum will eventually recognize the new habit and will “reward” you for faithfulness to the new routine, or “disturb” you when you neglect it.

“Exercise itself raises dopamine levels,” which means adding this good habit to your routine will raise your feel-good sense of vitality.

“Reward yourself with something you really desire.” A new book or a CD or an outfit you’ve been needing reinforces your own intentions to stick to good habit routine.

“Stress can reactivate the bad-habit circuitry.” So “chilling out” isn’t such a bad idea when your circuits are on overload.

“Cut out the rituals linked to your bad habits.” As the report puts it, “No eating in front of the TV, ever.”

But there’s one more strategy science can never measure. It’s your faith-factor. Repeat this dynamite promise from God daily and your striatum will quickly get the message:
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). Too simple? Hardly! Begin each day in quiet conversation with Him through a story-a-day reading through the Gospels, and you will unite yourself with Christ himself, as you discover for yourself his omnipotent friendship—a power even stronger than dopamine.