Health care reform or not, she did alright! The Scripps Howard News Service carried the story of Gregoria Martinez, 94, who was lovingly remembered by her family at her August 26 funeral in Quanah, Texas. In fact so many of her family attended her funeral that relatives handed out index cards to update addresses and telephone numbers while they had that many of them together. How large was Gregoria's family? She had eleven children, who in turn gave her ninety-eight grandchildren, who in turn gave her 164 great-grandchildren, who in turn gave her sixteen great-great-grandchildren-leaving her 289 descendents at the time of her death! The report indicates that the family has purposefully underestimated the figures, believing that the number could be as high as 500. That is one healthy family!
As we all know, President Obama and Congress are embroiled in a noisy and fractious health care reform debate. While Americans are agreed that something needs to be one to control escalating health care costs and while most of us express the desire for all citizens to have access to adequate health care, the more-heat-than-light generating debate over the details threatens any reform at all.
But leaving the debate aside, wouldn't it be wonderful if our nation were as preoccupied with health care of the heart? I don't mean the pumping organ, but rather that internal seat of our emotions, our hopes, our secret prayers, our touchstone with the divine. While this nation belongs to both the atheist and the faith-full, wouldn't we all be benefited by a collective quest to heal our fragmented lives, our increasingly isolated national soul. Not by mandating God and faith in the public school class rooms-that would be ultimately counterproductive. But by admitting our numinous sense of need, and validating our shared search for healing.
In our new fall series, "The Temple" (podcasts at this website), we meet a God who is so passionately devoted to the health of his earth children that in order to finally save them he brings all of history to a climactic drama in his celestial courtroom. And all of it for the sake of ultimate health reform: "'If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land'" (II Chronicles 7:14). Heal the land-that has always been the divine agenda, hasn't it? It is the single health care reform that could expand the family of God far beyond 289 descendents! For if God had his way, every earth child of his would be insured by the red cross that still offers full coverage to everyone who wants him.
How about a non-Labor-Day story for this Labor Day weekend? Several years ago I received a letter from one of our television viewers who is a Pentecostal pastor ministering in a city near us. He informed me that from his Bible study he had come to the conclusion that the Scriptures plainly and clearly teach that the seventh day of the week is the divine Sabbath for humanity, that it has been so from the creation of earth and remains so today. Needless to say he got my attention! “Moreover, I have written a book defending the seventh-day Sabbath,” his letter went on, “and am enclosing a disk with my manuscript.” As I read his manuscript, I was astounded at how articulately he built a strong biblical case for God’s Sabbath. The reason he had written was because he had discovered our telecast and wanted to be in communication with another pastor who shared his convictions. A few weeks later we met together in my office, along with one of his congregation members. The pastor had been teaching the Sabbath to his people, and several had joined him in beginning to honor the Lord of the Sabbath on the seventh-day. That was the first of many visits, the rest of which took place in his church in his city. In fact just this week we met again, this time with one of my members. But we met at a new church setting. And it was then I learned that recently one of his elders had led an effort to remove him as their pastor because of his decision to honor the Bible Sabbath. With a heavy heart he left his congregation. And after much prayer over the summer, he began a new pastorate in a for-sale church building across town. He told me last evening that his courage was strong, his confidence in God’s Word unshaken and his determination unchanged to teach and preach Christ as Lord of the Sabbath. As it so happened, this last Sabbath here at the Pioneer Memorial Church I met a Baptist pastor after our second celebration, who himself has been studying the Bible teaching of the Sabbath, all because he met another one of our members, who has begun studying the Bible with him. Two pastors from the same city making the same discovery—an affirmation, I believe, of the promise: “The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter till the full light of day” (Proverbs 4:18). The secret for them, for you, for me is that we continue to step into the light that God graciously shines upon our pathways. As we do so, he promises that the light will grow brighter and brighter, as with every step our discovery of his will and truth deepens. It’s that way with God’s restful non-labor-day Sabbath. It’s that way with all his truth. Keep stepping into Christ’s light and you will never walk in darkness.
How would you like to begin the new school year with a loan this big? If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed with your higher education expenses right now, you might find a small measure of comfort in meeting somebody who owes a bit more than you do—the United States. Today’s headline was an eye-catcher: “U.S. is facing tidal wave of red ink.” And underneath it followed these words: “In a chilling forecast, the White House is predicting a 10-year federal deficit of $9 trillion—more than the sum of all previous deficits since America’s founding. And it says by the next decade’s end the national debt will equal three-quarters of the entire U.S. economy” (South Bend Tribune 8-26-09). I’m not very good with big numbers, but does 9,000 billions of dollars strike you as a bit excessive? And what kind of monthly payment plan do you suppose they’ll need in order to make up that staggering deficit and pay off the resultant debt? “Tidal wave” seems an appropriate metaphor, doesn’t it? But never mind the government right now. Think kingdom instead. For once upon a faraway time in a faraway kingdom, the God who still rules it made a promise that, while it wouldn’t solve our national deficit or debt, is the solution to your own new year worries. Tapping into the latent fears of us all, he spoke this quiet but profound reassurance when he was here among us: “‘Not even a sparrow, worth only half a penny, can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to him than a whole flock of sparrows’” (Matthew 10:29-31 NLT). Did you catch that? “Don’t be afraid—you are more valuable to him.” More valuable than a flock of sparrows, more valuable than the tidal wave deficit and debt of this nation, or of all the world—truth be known (and it is), you and I are more valuable to him than even his own life. Just look at the cross! So if you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed (or even underwhelmed) just hours into the new university year, cheer up and take heart. There is Someone in “The Temple” who will take care of you. In the words of that old gospel song—“I sing because I’m happy, I sing because I’m free—for His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”
Before we consider “Cash for Clunkers,” the government’s latest stimulus project, I’d like to thank our guest bloggers and preachers who allowed me to spend the last six weeks finishing a devotional book manuscript and marrying our son Kirk to our new daughter-in-law Chelsea. But of course, the preachers weren’t “guests” at all, but rather key leaders and pastors on our senior leadership team here at Pioneer. Without their passion for Christ and ministry, we wouldn’t be the Pioneer we are. So, thank you! Karen says that when it comes to the passage of time, I’m no optimist. It didn’t help that when May came I began announcing that the summer was essentially over. But I couldn’t help it, and turns out it was true! Anybody know where this summer sped? The school bells start clanging bright and early Monday morning—and a brand new adventure is launched. And that goes for Pioneer, too. In two weeks we begin what I’m praying will be a life-changing journey into “The Temple,” our new fall pulpit series that begins August 27. I hope you can share the voyage on Saturday mornings at Pioneer or 24/7 at 
Moses Maimonides, a physician and rabbi who lived in the twelfth century, worked in the court of the sultan of Cairo by day and cared for the destitute of that city by night. He began each day with the following prayer:
Ever feel like the flight you’re on is going down? Karen and I just returned from two weeks in Europe—taping a Waldenses documentary (for the Andrews University School of Architecture) in Torre Pellice, Italy, and celebrating our 35th wedding anniversary in Grindelwald, Switzerland. After the recent Air France Flight 447 tragedy, travelers are even more sensitive to the possibilities of midair trouble. But our overnight flight to Europe was uneventful—until about five minutes before landing in Frankfurt, Germany—when there was a loud explosion near where we were seated, two rows up and on the opposite side. The explosion was followed by a loud roaring sound that only grew louder as we flew. Suddenly yellow pieces of insulation began shooting up from the aircraft wall into the cabin. A couple passengers jumped from their seats and fled to the other side. And we all began coughing from the insulation in the air. I don’t mind admitting it was a scary time. Your mind and heart are racing over the unknown. Is it a fire, or did a hole blow in the side of the Boeing 777? Naturally we were praying. The flight attendant on our side was yelling that her intercom was cut off. And I’m quietly thinking that this flight isn’t going to make it to the airport. But all the while there was no erratic movement of the plane. And eventually the loud roaring sound quieted away. Only coughing now. You can understand the relief in the air was palpable when the wheels finally touched down and passengers began applauding. Soon the copilot came on the intercom and in the great understatement of our flight announced: “Some of you may have heard a sound in the rear of the plane . . .” He informed us that one of the hydraulic lines running down the side of the aircraft had burst open, spewing insulation into the cabin. We have no idea where the line ran to—but praise God it apparently wasn’t to the wings or tail flaps. We were safe—hallelujah! Moral of the story—we must never take for granted our prayers for each other’s safety. Life is an uncharted flight at best. And while God is the pilot (like the sign in front of the church said, “If God is your copilot, you’re in the wrong seat!”), life can still be unpredictable. And uncertain. Hence our need of each other’s prayers. In that regard I solicit yours as I begin a writing sabbatical, to finish a 366-page devotional book for the Review and Herald Publishing Association that I began last summer. Eight months of devotional readings are now written, leaving me to write the four months of September through December over the next four weeks. So please claim Philippians 1:6 on my behalf—“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” And that, by the way, will be one flight guaranteed not to go down . . but up forever and ever. Amen.
Until the black boxes can be retrieved, the cause of the crash of Air France Flight 447 over the Atlantic Ocean Sunday night will remain unresolved. Some have speculated that the aircraft suffered a midair disaster related to what scientists call the "intertropical convergence zone"—a nearly continuous band of colliding weather systems that stretches across the Atlantic at the equator from South America to Africa. The ICZ is the hotbed of some of earth's strongest storms, with massive thunderheads at times towering up to 60,000 feet above sea level. That has led some to speculate the aircraft flew into that brewing meteorological cauldron and suffered a catastrophic event associated with the weather. The discovery of floating aircraft debris two days later was grim confirmation that all 228 people aboard perished on that ill-fated flight. And we grieve for their loved ones. The reality is that all trans-Atlantic flights must fly through a "no radar" zone, a space above the ocean beyond the reach of air traffic controllers on either side of the Atlantic. Hundreds of flights every day traverse that swath beyond the reach of radar for hours at a time. Naturally, pilots rely on the on-board radar systems that monitor surrounding weather and other aircraft to assure their safe passage. The tragic accident Sunday night is a reminder that the forces of nature are unpredictable at best. Is it any different with life? Clear skies can morph almost instantaneously into a deadly brew of trouble. A phone call at 2 a.m., a doctor's grim report of the test results, an unobserved vehicle flying through a red light, even an innocuous little email—have you noticed, unforeseen high altitude turbulence can throw your life into a tail spin in a split second? For those times we all have faced and will yet face ahead, I'm grateful there is no swath of air space we traverse that is beyond instantaneous contact with God. It may feel like he's asleep in the midst of your storm right now. And it may appear that you are going down. But in that midnight fury when the panicking disciples cried in desperation, "Lord, save us," the gospels shout into the wind the good news that Jesus stands up in your crisis and raises his hands to the maelstrom with the quiet command, "Peace—be still" (Mark 4:39). A supernatural peace in the midst of the storm is only a three-word prayer way: "Lord, save me." For truth be known, God isn't within radar contact—he’s at the controls of your flight. And no matter how stormy the night, he will have the last word. Even if your flight goes down.