Pastors' Blog

By Pioneer Pastors

June 7, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

By the time you read these words, I’ll be standing on one of the most sacred sites of truth.  History’s saga of the Waldensees (also known as the Vaudois) remains today one of the tragically glowing narratives to shine out of the dark Middle Ages.  Their very name “evokes memories of an ancient and honorable ancestry, whose devotion, perseverance, and suffering under persecution have filled some of the brightest pages of religious history, and have earned immortality in Whittier’s charming miniature and Milton’s moving sonnet.”  So wrote Leroy Froome in his magnum opus, Prophetic Faith of Our Fathers (v 1, p 829).

As you read these words, we—a collection of Andrews University architecture students and faculty—will be gathered in the dark and cool shadows of an alpine cave above the Piedmont valleys in northern Italy.  In that darkness we will embrace two memories: the memory of our Lord Jesus Christ who himself was slaughtered at the behest of church and state as the Savior of the world (in those shadows we will celebrate holy communion); and the memory of over three thousand Waldensian faithful who hid in those very precincts four centuries earlier and who were slaughtered in the infamous and bloody massacre John Milton would eventually immortalize in his sonnet, “On the Late Massacre in Piedmont” (which you may read online).  The world and Christendom have long forgotten what began at four in the morning on Saturday, April 24, 1655, in the Italian village of La Torre.  But heaven remembers.  And we who trek to this sacred site must not forget.  Nor should we who live in the relative security of a land we still call Christian.

For in the fulfillment of the Apocalypse’s cryptic warning in Revelation 12—the dark vision of a woman fleeing from the apocalyptic Serpent to the barren wilderness, and there being hidden by God for the long, dark ages of medieval Christianity—in that fulfillment still witnessed to by the silent rocky sentinels of the Piedmonts is the unspoken assurance that the God who has preserved ancient truth through all the bloody centuries since Calvary, is the very God who will proclaim that very truth to this generation through the remnant seed of that very woman.

For as surely as Almighty God called upon the men, women and children of those cloistered valleys long ago, he is calling upon the men, women and children of this generation to embrace the missional legacy of the Waldensian people, captured in their Latin motto, Lux lucet in tenebris.  “The light shineth in darkness.”  Indeed it did.  And indeed it must.  Yet.  In your life and mine.  Shine into the gathering darkness of a culture and world desperate for even the fragments of the only Light that can yet heal this world.

“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

June 1, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Listen to the “Motley Fool.” While most of us don’t suffer fools lightly, the Motley Fool is one voice we’d do well to pay heed. Last week I began a two-part mini-series that I’ll conclude today, “The Awkward Ambitions of a Middle Class” (both teachings are at our website: www.pmchurch.tv). Thanks to James D. Scurlock’s new book, Maxed Out: Hard Times, Easy Credit, and the Era of Predatory Lenders, you and I have found the courage to take on the shameful secret nobody wants to talk about—personal indebtedness.

In today’s part-two we’re going to tackle a divine prescription for our American consumerism’s discontent. And I’m certain you and I will find the biblical counsel not only pertinent, but practical. But in advance of filling out the study guide for today’s teaching, I’d like to share with you the Motley Fool’s six-point strategy for “eliminating credit card debt.” You may read a more detailed presentation of these six steps at the Motley Fool website: http://www.fool.com/seminars/sp/index.htm?sid=0001&lid=200&pid=0000.

If you’re shackled with credit card debts, prayerfully consider these six recommended steps:

#1—stop using your cards. Take them out of your wallet or purse. Cut them up if necessary. But credit counselors the world over agree. Quit using them. In today’s part-two I’ll share with you Dave Ramsey’s surprising critique of using them even when you’re paying them off every month.)

#2—stop the flood of credit card offers. The Motley Fool notes that you can force credit bureaus to stop selling your name by calling 1-888-OPTOUT to request the forms.

#3—always pay more than the minimum. Minimum payments are not a courtesy of the credit card companies; they’re strategically designed to keep you in debt to them for as long as possible.

#4—plan your attack. In today’s part-two be listening for Dave Ramsey’s prioritization strategy for eliminating your debts.

#5—reduce the interest rate. Credit card companies are willing to reduce their rates to keep you as a customer. Call their toll free number and ask for a rate reduction. Rates from 16% to 20% can be reduced to 11-12%. (But pay off your balances to avoid even those high rates.)

#6—consolidate your debts. Go to the Motley Fool site and read the small print of this step #6 carefully.

While Jesus wasn’t describing credit card debt, his promise can lift the hopes of every indebted home: “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). This morning as we examine the path to freedom from debt, let every heart take hope and courage in the Christ who offers what we seek most. You can live free!

May 25, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

The number is 3,422. That’s how many members of the U.S. military have paid the supreme sacrifice in the war in Iraq over the last four years. But on this Memorial Day, when the nation remembers our war dead, how many of them did we know? The reality for most of us is that, in fact, we don’t know any of these 3,422 who laid down their lives for country and family. Nor do we know their 25,549 comrades who have been wounded in this war. If we have family over there, all we know is the quiet prayer that God would keep our loved one from adding to either statistic. How can you remember the war dead when you didn’t know them? Pictures help, to be sure. Photos silently moving across the screen of the evening news or lined up in a news weekly put a chiseled face to the statistics. After all, he was somebody’s boy, she was someone’s spouse. Pictures help. But we don’t remember for long, do we? Even when Newseek magazine published photocopies of some of the deceased soldiers’ last letters home, while their names and faces became more personal and the magnitude of their sacrifice dawned upon us more forcefully, we still didn’t remember for long. Do you suppose that’s God’s problem, too? That our memory of the war dead has grown distant and detached. Laid down his life, did he, in the great conflict? Having a picture would sure help. Or a photocopy of a letter home. But just a name? And so we forget. Which is why a piece of broken bread and a cup of wine were once upon a time placed in our hands. “Do this in remembrance of Me,” he commanded (I Corinthians 11:24). So that we would not forget this War’s supreme Sacrifice. And remember the name, if not the face, of the One who landed behind enemy lines and laid “down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Calvary. And the bread and the cup. Of him who died. And rose again. Which makes that war-dead statistic of one utterly unique in time and space—this One who not only laid down his life, but took it up again, his supreme sacrifice becoming humanity’s supreme victory. “So that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” Hope, not only for the families of the 3,422, but hope for an entire race of war casualties—which, on this Memorial Day, is surely the most memorable statistic of all!

May 10, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Sure you want to become a mother?  Here are some numbers you may want to crunch before you decide!  Statistics released this week in the latest Newsweek magazine reveal that the first two years of a new baby’s life will cost $32,000.  And if you’re wanting more than one child, you can plan on an added $24,000 for each additional child.  Just for their first two years of moving into your heart and home! And what will it cost to raise that little cherub to the age of 18?  Newsweek reports that over those eighteen years a middle-class family will spend an average of $190,980, not including college or lost wages from a parent who remains at home.  Per child.  Add the costs of college and the lost wages of that parent who stayed at home, and the estimated cost from infancy to age eighteen skyrockets to $1,589,793! Still sure you want to be a mom? Average stay-at-home mothers (what’s an average mom?) work 92 hours a week in their mothering (is anybody surprised?).  If you took her “homework” and parceled it out into the various jobs/tasks that she performs each week, she should be earning (based on the median national salary for the categories of labor she provides) a whopping $138,095 a year!  As Newsweek quips, “Sure, the validation is purely symbolic, but it may come as some solace at a time when stay-at-home moms are being taken to task in the new book ‘The Feminine Mistake’ for giving up the financial independence their [women’s rights] mothers fought so hard to win” (5-14-07 Newsweek). Are you a mom or a mother-wanna-be?  There’s an old, dusty Book that sits on American shelves across the land this Mother’s Day.  And in that Book the Author makes certain the genuine value of a godly mother is clearly portrayed.  “She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.  Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all.’”  And then the wisest man who ever lived adds this summation:  “Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.” (Proverbs 31:27-30) And so to all our mothers and moms, I know I express the sentiments of a grateful nation and church when on this Mother’s Day we rise up and indeed call you “Blessed.”   For you are truly the gift of God to us all.

May 3, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Don’t let them veto your future, graduates!  The press has been abuzz with news over the showdown this week between the executive and legislative branches of our nation’s government.  President Bush cast only the second veto of his presidency in rejecting the Iraq war funding bill passed by Congress, a bill that included a mandated troop withdrawal date, which the president opposes. Ah, the power of a veto—the power of saying No!  But as the 673 of you Andrews University graduates gather for this memorable academic rite of passage, I and the rest of us here at Pioneer want you to know that we’re cheering you on with the power of a Yes! After all, it’s your graduation promise:  “For all the promises of God in Christ are Yes, to the glory of God” (II Corinthians 1:20).   Did you catch that?  As you head out the door of this campus, God is giving you a giant YES for all the promises you’re going to need for your uncharted journey.   A YES for the wisdom and the hope and courage you’ll go on seeking, a YES for the grace and the forgiveness you’ll go on needing, a YES for the new dreams and patience and faith and persistence you’ll be wanting, a YES for all the love that the most important relationships of your life will be requiring. A giant YES wrapped up in Jesus.  Not only because all God’s promises are a Yes in him.  But also because through your friendship with Christ, you’ll become the radical change agent our world’s been needing all along. So take plenty of pictures, hug all your professors, laugh through the memories, cling to the victories, turn in your key.  And as you drive away tomorrow, would you please say a prayer for us, too.  That right here at Pioneer we can be God’s giant YES to the new class of young adults who’ll be following in your footsteps in just a few weeks.  It was an honor to pray for you while you were here.  Honor us please with your prayers for us now that you’re leaving. And in heaven when we next meet—let our “high fives” be for the Savior whose friendship has turned our future into an eternal YES.  Together.  With him.  Amen.

April 27, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Six contestants left for America’s new idol.  How’s that for a headline this week?  As the Today Show on NBC ran a report of the elimination countdown to American’s new “number one” amateur performer, the screen caption throughout the report blazed, “Idol Worship.”  How clever, but how true!  Except for you and me, of course.

I’ve been blessed teaching nineteen young seminarian preachers this semester.  One of the students, Shawn Brace, was assigned the second commandment, God’s prohibition against idol worship (see Exodus 20:4-6).   He did some research on previous contestants on Fox’s American Idol telecast (which, for those who don’t know, is an old-fashioned amateur hour that’s dictated by the millions of viewer votes that are electronically cast each week, slowly eliminating the contestants).  Shawn discovered that one year in the top tier of contenders, each was asked to name his personal “idol” (a hero, a role model, someone idolized).  One contestant was candidly honest in his written reply:  “Myself.”  His number one hero . . . himself.

Surprised?  Probably not.  After all we live in a society bent back onto itself in self-admiration, don’t we?  Driven by Madison Avenue and an entertainment and sports world where stars unabashedly self-promote, it seems only natural that we do the same, doesn’t it? Which, of course, has been the modus operandi on this planet from the beginning—look out for Numero Uno—as Adam and Eve and Cain and all our forefathers and foremothers have unsubtly taught us.  It was the original sin, after all, that brought down Lucifer and his loyal rebels.  Self-worship—making an idol out of “myself.”

That’s why the story of Jesus is so radical and hope-filled.  Because the God of the universe become Man entered our mortal stream of existence to dramatically, humbly show us the other way.  The way of the God who ever defers to others, who “made himself of no reputation and humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death” (Philippians 2:5-8).  Who died to the very self that is so ragingly strong in you and me.  And who now beckons us, “If you would come after Me, deny yourself, and take up your cross and follow Me” (Matthew 16:24).

The perfect invitation for the ending of this school year.  Because there’s a world waiting to be conquered—not for “myself” but for our Savior.  Who, of course, isn’t an idol at all, but is the greatest Hero of all.  Which is how I wish that young contestant had answered,  since—as it turns out—he grew up in the church I did.

April 21, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Candle light vigils have become a way of American life, haven’t they?  Columbine, Oklahoma City, September 11, and now Virginia Tech.  And a grieving public that privately wonders when the insanity will ever end.  Anybody know? Our politicians haven’t found the answer.  Nor have our law enforcement agencies.  Nor have our psychologists and school counselors.  Nor have the media.  Nor has the public.  Nobody knows how to stop the carnage, the massacres, “the terror by night . . . the arrow that flies by day . . . the pestilence that walks in darkness . . . the destruction that lays waste at noonday” (Psalm 91:5, 6). I have an aged friend in South Africa whom I met through our global telecast.  Several years ago he was watching, wrote me a letter, and thus began our long-distance friendship.  He is of another faith community.  But he is a man of prayer.  Recently he received an impression from God that he felt compelled to share with me.  He wrote in February—I received his letter this week.  He is worried for the future of this nation (which may not be an uncommon response from those who watch us from afar).  He offered a description of what he believes is yet to come.  “I write this under great duress.” But then again, you and I don’t need a prayer warrior half a world away to be reminded that we live in a very troubled nation and world. Then shall we be afraid?  It is precisely that query God addresses in Psalm 91 with these reassuring words:  “You shall not be afraid . . . No evil shall befall you . . . For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways.” So then, rather than fear, let us be moved and motivated by a deepening compassion for a society so often without answers, too often without hope.  “Behold, I stand at the door and knock,” is the apocalyptic assurance of Christ (Revelation 3:20).  In this hour when he is “even at the door,” shall we not pledge our careers, our resources, our time, our best energies to him who is the only Hope and Salvation of our civilization—and share him with our world?

April 12, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

What can we learn from “shock jock” Don Imus’ meltdown?  In case you were fasting from the news this week (which isn’t such a bad idea, come to think of it), you know the public furor over the racially and sexually derogatory remarks that nationally syndicated radio talk show host Don Imus made about the Rutgers University NCAA women’s basketball finalists, words unworthy of repetition.  Both CBS radio and MSNBC cable television dropped the Imus show for two weeks.  Corporate sponsors pulled their ads and financial backing.  The public backlash has been quick and strong.

And yet, truth be told, the irreverent diatribe of so public an entertainer as Imus can only be explained by the recognition that hundreds of thousands of Americans tune in each day to listen to him.  The millions of dollars of corporate sponsorship poured into his program are a frank admission that the public thrives on living (at least in thought, if not in practice) on the crude edge of courtesy and decency, not to mention bigotry and hate.  (I’m not thinking, of course, of you and me—but rather all those others out there.)

And what shall we and “all those others” learn from this unseemly (but no longer unusual) flap?  Perhaps that it really isn’t a flap at all.  Could it be that it represents the mounting evidence of our society’s drive to insular independence and isolation (the only three people I have time to care about are I, me and myself)?  Could it be that Imus still gets so large a hearing because tearing down public and private figures satisfies the smallness of our own hearts to prop ourselves up on the wreckage of others?  To trash a team of ten young coeds who made it to the pinnacle of their sport, just as they were savoring that accomplishment?

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked—who can know it?” (Jeremiah 17:9)   We’re all in the same boat together.  It’s no wonder that even God himself at times has struggled with his own corporate sponsorship of the human race!  Thank God he hasn’t pulled the plug on our self-worshiping, people-trashing ways and sent us packing.  Not yet anyway.  Because Mercy keeps running after us, doesn’t it?

But what do you say we let Mercy catch up with us?  We can pray for Don Imus, but let us also pray for our own hearts.  And lips.  That the Great Commandment—to love God supremely and our neighbor impartially—will compel our thoughts, our words, our actions.  After all, if nobody is our brother and sister’s keeper, than there’s nobody left to keep us either.  And that would be the saddest meltdown of all.

April 5, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

Millions of bees mysteriously dead!  Something off the front page of the National Enquirer?  Hardly.  It’s a developing news story that spans the nation.  One Pennsylvania beekeeper lost 40 million bees this winter.  Fruit and vegetable growers from California (which produces 80% of the world’s almond supply) to Pennsylvania (which grows the fourth largest apple harvest in the nation) are extremely worried, because the survival of their blossoming crops depends on the pollinating of honeybees.  No pollen transfer, no fruit—it’s that simple. What’s killing entire hives of bees across America?  Scientists aren’t sure.  Researchers at Penn State are hypothesizing potential microbes, checking for new pathogens, wondering about potent insecticides—while other scientists have discovered the very tiny varrora mite lodged to the bodies of dead bees and wonder if it is the culprit.  One thing’s for certain—more than $15 billion of U.S. crops pollinated by honeybees is now at stake! “Mysterious death that threatens an entire species”—that was the headline eons ago that plunged the Kingdom of Heaven into unprecedented crisis.  The human creation had joined the cosmic rebellion against the Throne.  Now both human and non-human creatures were being swept away by death at a rate of 100%.  There seemed no reversal for this endemic plague. Until two thousand years ago on a Good Friday mountaintop, where the God of the universe submitted himself to the diabolical fury of his archenemy.  Bearing the infectious and mortal disease of this fallen creation in his own body and heart, the second Person of Heaven’s Triune God succumbed in six hours to the crushing death of sin.  And it appeared that the mystery disease and its dark perpetrator had conquered this creation permanently. Until that black Sunday morning three days later.  An explosion of light.  The roar of a subterranean quake.  And the clarion voice of a young being that towered beside that stone rolled away, as he shouted into the damp shadow of that hillside sepulcher:  “Son of God, come forth—Thy Father calls Thee.”  More lightning.  Thunder.  And quaking.  And striding from the bowels of that earth comes the risen Christ who over the shattered tomb cries out, “I am the resurrection and the life.”  A billion angels bow to welcome back their conquering King! And two thousand years later we, too, gather to worship Him.  Not only today in celebration of His resurrection.  But on those “other days” of utter heartache and bitter tears when we gather to worship Him in this sacred place, as we bid farewell to yet another loved one death has claimed for itself.  It is on those days of numbing grief that our spirits crave even more keenly the shattering promise of His empty tomb:  “Because I live, you shall live also” (John 14:19). And so may the voice of the risen Christ that we hear this day remain deep within us until that Day, when the mystery of death will be no more, and the blossoms of Paradise will flower forever.

March 28, 2007
By Dwight K. Nelson

This past week Elizabeth Edwards and Tony Snow have put cancer into the headline consciousness of America. The wife of presidential candidate, John Edwards, and the president’s chief Whitehouse spokesman, in separate dramatic announcements of recurring cancer, bravely exposed their private battles for health and life to the public. And as a consequence they both have raised the level of our national conversation regarding this shared and dreaded enemy. Talking heads on television and medical experts alike have weighed in on the conversation, assuring the rest of us that diagnoses such as these are no longer the irrevocable death sentence we once feared. At the same time, medical authorities seized the moment to remind the public of the vital necessity of physical examinations and screening, awareness of personal health warning signs, along with careful attention to moderating the excesses of the American lifestyle. And through it all, there has been the appropriate call to prayer for these two well known political figures and their families. Within our own community of faith cancer is no stranger either. And because of that reality, it is well for us on occasion to brood over the meaning of so mortal an enemy. Naturally, cancer is neither a scourge from God nor an instrument of divine judgment. It is, as the apostle once ruminated, the consequence of “the creation subjected to futility” (Romans 8:20). And while some cancers have been linked to the western lifestyle, the fact remains that even the most health-conscious of individuals can contract the disease. For we live in a creation suffering under the scourge of sin. Which is why Paul was quick to humanize the suffering of nature itself with the words, “For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now,” until that day creation itself will be “delivered from the bondage of corruption” (vv 22, 21). Could it be that our very bodies themselves, from the minutest corpuscle to the largest of our organs, “groan” with the pangs of living out their days in this fallen system? For is not cancer the “futility” of a creation system gone awry in unchecked invading growth? What hope is there for those who suffer, for all of us who live out our days on this fallen planet? “Even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. . . . But if we hope for what we do not see [and we have yet to see this mortal foe eradicated from the human experience], we eagerly wait for it with perseverance” (vv 23, 25). Perseverance. And prayer. Because persevering in battling this mortal enemy of health with all our God-given powers is the right human response. And so is prayer—the crying out and groaning pangs of a heart and soul desperate for divine intervention. Persevering prayer. Because even nature’s “inevitable” course can be turned. Which is why for Elizabeth and Tony and all we know who suffer cancer’s battle our intercedings are made potent through Calvary’s power. After all, did not our Lord bear all our “sicknesses” (Isaiah 53:4 margin) to the cross? And is it not true that “by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5)? Then with persevering prayer let us press on together. And may it truly be “together.” For when one member of the body suffers, we all suffer. . . and shall continue to suffer until He comes, and Christ shall forever restore our creation to its primeval ideal once again. Amen.