Pastors' Blog

On March 4, 1933, the newly elected president of the United States delivered his inaugural address to the nation.  Four sentences into that address, Franklin Roosevelt uttered the words that have lived long beyond his four-term presidency:  “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”  So spoke the nation’s leader in that dark hour of economic despair. Because that’s what leaders are raised up to do, is it not?  To call the people, the populace, the public to renewed confidence and hope for the journey yet ahead, to remind them of their “rendezvous with destiny.” That’s precisely what an aged leader named Moses did in an ancient book that becomes the grist for our worship journey this new season.  Deuteronomy is in fact the farewell address (no doubt the longest farewell address in history!) of that beloved leader to the children of Israel who had literally grown up under the tutelage of his forty year administration. As we handle the document and text of his last will and testament to this community that had exhausted four decades of wandering in the bleached, barren wilderness south of Canaan, we will ponder the notion that in their wanderings lies the tale of our own journey toward the Promised Land.  For the apostle firmly asserts:  “Now all these things happened to them [in the wilderness] as examples, and they were written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the ages have come” (I Corinthians 10:11). Have “the ends of the ages” come upon us?  And are we prepared for the high calling of that “rendevous with destiny?”  What are the lessons of and for “the chosen?”  Journey with me this season as we track the sandy footprints of that chosen generation long, long ago.  And in Moses’ appeal to remember, may we heed the call of another leader who spoke courage into the uncertainty of a journey that yet remained:  “We have nothing to fear for the future, except as we shall forget the way the Lord has led us, and His teaching in our past history” (Life Sketches 196).  Nothing to fear, much to remember, and a future to claim.  It is the shining hour of “The Chosen.”  Shall we not seize it?

How would you like to teach school in New Orleans? The government is endeavoring to attract new teachers to what, even before Hurricane Katrina, was one of the toughest and most challenging school districts in the nation. But now in the post-traumatic stress of that crippled city, recruiters are offering to every teacher willing to move to the Crescent City a two-year signing bonus of $17,000. Any takers? Fact of the matter is that whether you teach in New Orleans or Benton Harbor or Berrien Springs you’ve signed on to a very demanding profession. U.S. Department of Labor statistics report that there are now 3.8 million preschool through high school teachers (public and private) in the United States, with annual earnings ranging (in the latest statistics available) from $26,730 to $71,370. Any takers now? But sit down with a school teacher, private or public, and inquire the motivation that keeps the teacher returning to that noisy classroom day after day, and I predict you’ll not hear a word about “the compensation package.” And probably not too much about the working environment or physical plant either (which isn’t to suggest that such factors aren’t important or vital to these professionals). But to a man and woman among the teachers I’m privileged to know (and work with) the gut motivation and heart response keep coming down to a personal passion for kids, a love of learning and teaching and the desire to change this world one life at a time. And the rewards? Years ago the screen play “Mr. Holland’s Opus” powerfully portrayed the payoff of a high school music teacher, whose dream to compose a world-class opus was perennially preempted by his devotion to the kids who tromped through his band room year after year. Their surprise rendition of his unfinished opus at his retirement program captured the compelling truth about teachers—their greatest life compositions are played out in the lives of their students long after school days are over. I carry these two quotations in my Bible: “Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth” (Eccl 12:1); and, “What line can we dwell upon that will make the deepest impression upon the human mind? There are our schools” (FE 529). In that juxtaposition is the reason why I thank God for the hundreds of dedicated Christian teaching professionals in this parish. Let the school bells clang—our kids are in the right hands!

It is reported that Christopher Columbus, when he first sighted that landfall, exclaimed:  “Gracias a Dios que hemos salido de esas honduras!”—”Thank God we have come out of those depths!”  And it stuck—that word “depths”—becoming the proud name of the glorious land from which we’ve just returned.  Honduras.  From its jungled mountain peaks above 9000 feet to its white-sanded coastline, from its sprawling estates for the wealthy to its impoverished barrios for the masses, this nation of seven million is a dramatic study in contrasts.

Spiritual contrasts, too.  Which is why a team of fifteen of us—all of us bound together by the sap and branches of the same family tree (Watts-Nelson)—flew into La Ceiba (Honduras’ third largest city) a few weeks ago on a humanitarian-medical-evangelistic mission on behalf of the global ministry, The Quiet Hour.  The strategy was simple:  conduct daily medical-dental clinics in the city, followed by simultaneous nightly evangelistic meetings at five different sites.  Which meant that morning and evening, we communicated in “the language of heaven” (to quote that familiar piece of Hispanic pride) through our medical and evangelistic partners, our translators.

And may I humbly observe that when it comes to a passion for growing the kingdom of Christ on earth, our Honduran brothers and sisters are without peer!  I was assigned the sports arena in downtown La Ceiba.  And each evening as I watched the busses drive in with men, women and children from across the city, I couldn’t help but marvel, not only at the eagerness of the crowd to attend a religious event, but at the indefatigable commitment of the pastors and church members to reach those newcomers night after night.  My assignment was to preach a “decision” sermon each evening (one that ended with an appeal to accept Christ as Savior, to follow him as Lord, and to be baptized) that concluded with an altar call.  An altar call over five or ten minutes here at Pioneer means we start fidgeting with discomfort.  But our altar calls there in La Ceiba (at all our sites) would often last thirty to forty-five minutes!  And the people responded.  In fact, a large swimming pool at the front of the arena just below our preaching platform became a baptistery at the close of every sermon.  Some of those baptized had made their decision previous to that evening—but there were many who made a decision in that arena, came forward, and were baptized on the spot—just like Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8!  It was a sight to behold.  Sometimes I just stood there in awe at the moving of the Spirit.  And at the earnest appeals that both pastors and members alike would make as they moved among those who came forward, as well as among those who remained in their seats.  I have never witnessed anything quite like it!

Our arena meetings became a “first” for Honduras by telecasting each evening live on a local station, owned by an Adventist family—which meant that our reach far exceeded the sports arena.  One evening an “observer” sent from a popular church in town attended the meeting, was convicted by the Spirit, came forward in the altar call for the Sabbath, and was baptized then and there!

When our mission concluded, Peter Simpson, the conference president, reported that 1,053 individuals had accepted Christ and been baptized at all our sites.  Somebody must have been praying!  Fervent prayer teams were on site praying each night, and I know many of you were, too.  Praise God and thank you.  Lessons to be learned?  Perhaps in another blog we can share a few.  But a mission in July confirms God’s promise:  “[They] went everywhere preaching the word. . . . And there was great joy in that city” (Acts 8:4, 8).

What would happen if it rained simultaneously all over the world?  Every nation, every land deluged with a global downpour.  Did you see the pictures out of Texas this week?  Flashfloods up the roofs of mobile homes because of sustained thunderstorms.  People clinging to those rooftops, waiting for rescue boats to sail up used-to-be streets.  Imagine an entire planet awash in rain showers.

Seven or eight months ago a group of Americans in central California began to imagine just such a scene and scenario.  Imagined what would happen to the world if a simultaneous rain shower covered the earth.  They became so moved by the scenes that they began sending out emails to other Americans to imagine the same.  And those emails soon crossed the continental borders of cyberspace, eventually circling the earth.

One of the emails reached my inbox at the turn of the year.  I took it to our senior leadership team and read it to them.  There in our comfortable circle we, too, imagined what the scenes would be were a simultaneous global rainfall to occur.  And frankly, our own spirits were moved to the place we decided that this “Operation Global Rain” ought to be a moment everyone in our parish was invited to join.

After all, didn’t the ancient prophet echo God’s command?  “Ask the LORD for rain in the time of the latter rain.  The LORD will make flashing clouds; He will give them showers of rain, grass in the field for everyone” (Zechariah 10:1).

You can always tell when your lawn becomes parched and brittle, can’t you?  And you don’t need to be a meteorologist to determine that the Darfur region of Sudan is desperately dry and barren.  Even so, all of us can tell when our own hearts and homes and churches and institutions and land have become spiritually dry and brittle, can’t we?  Surely, we have nothing to lose and everything to gain to join forces with congregations across this country and around the world in earnestly claiming God’s promise to pour out the Spirit of Pentecost upon our church and our world before the return of Christ:  “When the way is prepared for the Spirit of God, the blessing will come.  Satan can no more hinder a shower of blessing descending upon God’s people than he can close the windows of heaven that rain cannot come upon the earth” (I SM 124).

“Operation Global Rain” begins here at Pioneer next Sabbath and concludes on 07-07-07.   Pioneer families and members are invited to join this global prayer season by setting aside a time each morning or evening when our prayers can be joined to God’s promises for this mighty outpouring.  A study guide and collection of promises for each evening is available by going to www.operationglobalrain.com.

How will God respond globally to this united week of praying?  That’s for him to determine.  This much I know—your life and mine can become “like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail” (Isaiah 58:11).  Or in the words of Jesus, “out of [our] heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38).  With a promise like that, why not plead for his rain now?