The Fog of Separation

This early morning scene of fences, gates, and a chute made of cold, damp steel at a cattle ranch in the early morning fog reminded me of the pain of separation. The stories of first responders, nurses, and doctors having to deal with COVID-19 victims during their last hours dying alone are heartbreaking.

Life was not meant to be this way. We were not created to deal with death. We were not created to be alone. No wonder we are falling apart during these excruciating times. But, thanks be to God that we are not left alone.

The life and teachings of Jesus give us hope. We know there is a resurrection and that death is merely a much needed sleep for those who are safe to save. The pain of separation is drowned by the joy set before us, knowing Jesus goes through this with us with tears flowing from His eyes too. Tears of sorrow will be turned into tears of joy of reuniting in a perfect world where there will be no more pains or dying.

Let us treasure that in our hearts as we try to get our heads around this assurance and our bodies ache. Joy comes in that morning as today’s mournings fade is in the fog of these moments.

—Larry Smith

Aspire

History is replete with attempts to find solutions to pressing problems: The search for a land of milk and honey, the Fountain of Youth, and a vaccine for COVID-19 are examples. 

Many pursuits have been successful, like vaccines for polio, smallpox, and hepatitis, and the ability to fly from a few hundred feet to the moon and beyond. Life expectancy in the last two centuries has more than doubled. In the United States, it has gone from less than 30 to 77.  This doubling is also true around the world. 

So much has been done, but there is so much more to do. We honor bridge builders, healers, and dreamers—those who aspire to do great things and get them done. Their failure rate is usually very high, but they pick themselves back up and try again. They are relentless.

Hebrews 11 honors those who had dreams inspired by God and by faith, persistently pursued them.  “By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed to go out unto a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. By faith he became a sojourner in the land of promise, as in a land not his own, dwelling in tents, with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise: for he looked for the city which hath the foundations, whose builder and maker is God”‭‭ (Hebrews‬ ‭11:8-10).‬ ‭Let’s also aspire. 

—Larry Smith

Power

The pros and cons of power are common subjects. The issues usually focus around how power is generated, where it comes from, or how it’s used. This photo of the Diablo high tension power lines silhouetted against a sunset sky will soon be history. The worldwide controversy over the safety and environmental concerns of nuclear power affects our own backyard. Diablo is slated to be shut down in 2024-2025. It is the last nuclear power plant in California although 99 others still exist in the US.  I guess Diablo will be the lost sheep.

We eat power bars, check out the horsepower of our automobiles, and are impressed by the promised advertised power of everything we buy from foods to soaps. We talk about powerful ideas, powerful sermons, and potent perfumes. Power is a good thing. Right? I remember a lecture given at the Diablo Visitors Center before it opened where we were told we would always need more power. Indeed, Diablo has provided electrical power for 1.7 million homes since 1985. However, its replacement and environmental issues remain a challenge.

Jesus promises spiritual power. The disciples were promised power after the Holy Spirit had come upon them for the purpose of being witnesses to the world (Acts 1:8). If we have enough faith, we can move mountains—Nothing will be impossible (Matthew 17:20). Jesus had the power to make wine from water, heal, raise the dead, perform miracles of every kind, and inspire and change hearts.

Power cannot do everything. It cannot make us love. It may force behavior and compliance, but it cannot force the spirit. Luke tells us that when Jesus returned to Galilee from being tempted in the wilderness, He returned in the “power of the spirit,” and the flame of Him went throughout the region (Luke 4:14). Zechariah records the angel passing along the words of the Lord to him: “Not by might, not by power, but by my spirit.”

I remember my uncle telling me that if my brains were dynamite, I couldn’t blow my nose. I got his point. I get Jesus’s point on how to move mountains. Ultimate power comes through trusting in Jesus and acting in His spirit of love. That won’t help in emptying the garbage can, but it is the way to exchange my selfish heart of stone for a caring heart of flesh. That’s the kind of power I long for and can afford. It’s freely given. I’m in.

—Larry Smith

Ants, Sheep and the Bible

My wife and I found ourselves staying overnight in a rather dumpy motel, but were grateful for a room, because it was graduation weekend at the local university, and board was hard to find. In the early morning as we slept, some upset little critters began to bite me. Upon investigation I discovered a row of pavement ants marching directly from a crack on the windowsill to my pillow. The tiny pests did not disturb my wife since, I assume, they preferred the flavor of my salty skin to the taste of her lotion-satiated dermis. Not wanting to awaken her, I did not turn on CNN but took the Gideon Bible from the pine side-table beside the bed to read. To my surprise I discovered a penciled message in its flyleaf directed at folks like me who are devoted to the Scriptures. It said:

“Hello Sheep. Baa. Make sure to keep following orders and keep obeying scare tactical fiction stories in order to give your life purpose. After all, if you can’t think for yourself, you may as well follow the leader.”

To test the validity of the salutation addressing me as a member of the Ovis aries species of cud-chewing mammals, I quietly repeated “Baa” to myself several times while drawling out the bleat. But, alas, the tryout brought me no relief from the suspicion that I just might belong to the wooly flock. This person, whoever he was, had clearly gotten into my morning, pre-coffee head, and I did not like him there. Strangely, something about the flyleaf missive seemed to be true of me, I do go to the Scriptures for purpose, and I do submit in some way. Does that make me a mere follower of some old book? I
therefore copied the accusation on stationary from the desk, and made myself a cup of insipid motel coffee.

WHY SEARCH FOR PURPOSE ANYWAY?
So why bother with meaning? Isn’t it easier just to bust loose singing, “Que sera sera, whatever will be will be,” and then put your happy little head on your big soft pillow? Maybe so, but it’s not quite so straightforward for those of us who buy into the dictum of Socrates, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” For such anguished souls a life- long search for meaning is a must. A purposelessness existence is not an option.

Then too, there’s the not so trivial matter of our own death. (Not only taxes are certain, you know!) Ernest Becker in his Pulitzer Prize winning book, The Denial Of Death, argues convincingly that because we fear and suppress the certainty of our demise, the symbolic part of us engages in what he calls an “immortality project.” We try to become part of something we believe will last forever — art, music, literature, science, religion, political movements, etc. Such attachments, we figure, will give our lives meaning.

I here unabashedly confess my linkage to the grand story of the Bible as my immortality project, my source of purpose. Its plot is about God and his people, and how well they do and don’t get along. In the thrust and parry of this difficult narrative I’ve discovered a reasonable and healthy way to live. Out of the distortion and the order, the hate and the love, the hope and despair, the law and the grace, the war and the peace, etc. principles to live by emerge. These I use for direction.

WHAT ABOUT THE TAKING ORDERS BIT?
Is the above process equivalent to “taking orders?” Maybe. Sorta. But when I read the Scriptures I don’t snap my heels together and stand at attention. N. T. Wright once said something to the effect that its very confusing to go for orders to a source that declares, “Once upon a time….” My experience is that the Bible’s narratives are sufficiently indefinite to give me space to figure things out for myself. I often argue with them and with God. The stories raise questions, they don’t simply give explicit answers.

THE BIBLE RAISES QUESTIONS THAT CHALLENGE ME.
I revel in the questions the Bible raises by means of its plot-lines.
Here’s a sampling:
Why isn’t there nothing?
Are men and women equal?
Why does religion turn brothers to killing each other?
Does technology divide cultures?
Is life absurd?
What is genuine love like?
Can we escape death?
Are all humans equal?
What does it mean to be fully human?
Is the world going to come to an end?
Do I live by sight alone?
How do we do justice?
How do we show mercy?

A friend of mine and I were having an earnest discussion that was going nowhere. After we blundered about hither and yon for some time, he suddenly exclaimed, “Let’s stop this nonsense, we don’t yet have adequate questions with which to probe for answers!” What wisdom! The Bible does not simply give answers, its stories raise crucial questions. But there’s more.

THE GOOD BOOK HONORS THOSE WHO FACE THEIR OWN
MEANINGLESSNESS.
The Bible has a gallery of honor to showcase people who’ve struggled to make sense of themselves. In a collection dubbed “The Writings”, it gives them a prominent platform to speak from. But don’t let the laid-back title fool you, they pack a punch. The collection includes the books Ruth, Esther, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs and Lamentations. These explore the nitty gritty of failed religious experience, of self-defeating behavior, and misguided attempts to seek purpose, and imploded civilization. They’re not for sheep.

Take Ecclesiastes, for instance, in which Qoheleth (the Teacher) faces the absurdity of life. “Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless!” he cries. He labels humans as “drifters without direction,” “seekers who never find,” and “children of the desert wind.” Quite a description, don’t you think? He asserts, we cannot by all our striving achieve anything of enduring or ultimate significance. He thinks wisdom is better than folly, but not to expect too much from it. He insists that we die in futility like the animals do. And he maintains, there is nothing new under the sun. Been there, done that - always has been, always will be. But ironically, God has put eternity in our hearts so that we feel the urge to search, albeit in frustration.

The book finally ends when a shocked and pious redactor, in an editorial postscript, attempts to redeem the work from total despair by drawing a conclusion that is, to say the least, only modestly satisfying: “Fear God and keep his commandments for this is the whole duty of man because God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.”

Is this really what it’s all about? Is this how we should live? What about the glory of love, and grace, and redemption? But still, if the Bible did not raise the awful specter of absurdity that humanity endures in the face of death, it would itself be a failure. So my hat is off to the Great Book for not holding back, for telling it like it is, on this agonizing matter, and for giving Qoheleth his troubling voice.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ANSWER?
The finest place to find purpose in life is, I think, in Jesus the Messiah. He is the ultimate exemplification of what it means to be fully human. Christ has saved me from purposelessness, and I believe from death. He is my compass. By that I mean he is my true North. A compass does not make decisions for you but consistently points to the pole and says, “Now go figure.” By grasping why Jesus thought he lived, by knowing what he was against, by buying into his principles of happiness we find ourselves, and fullness of life.
Here is why he thought he lived:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for
the prisoners,
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

He focused his life on the lost, the last, the least.

This is what he was strongly against:
Defining your life by the stuff you own; domination of others by force; toxic religion that imposes burdens grievous to be borne on people and does not lift a finger to help them; any system of governance that does not understand mercy and justice; discrimination against people that puts them down for being female, racially different, children, physically challenged, or are not religious in the same way you are.

Jesus is remarkably creative when it comes to setting out his law. He does not “lay down the law” as a series of prohibitions in a “thats-a-no-no way.” Rather, he gives expression to the principles that make us happy. Each of his “rules for living” are given as a positive, not as a “thou shalt not.”. They’re blessings, beatitudes. Imagine! They run the gambit of living a life of repentant mourning to rejoicing greatly when persecuted. But prime of place is given at their very center to “Blessed are the merciful for they shall inherit the kingdom of God.” Purpose, law, and happiness are bundled together. What a way to live!

AND THEN THERE’S THE MATTER OF MY OWN DEMISE.
I am one of those folks who holds with Nietzsche and Sartre that death makes my life seem meaningless. Certainly so in the long term. I require an immortality project, a forever dimension to my pitiful life. This is given to me by faith in the resurrection of Christ from the dead. And no, I cannot prove this beyond a reasonable doubt, but I have made a leap of faith and accept my existence beyond the grave as sure. Yes, my only claim on Christ is my great need. Believe me I am weak and must trust the Good Shepherd to lead me through the valley of the shadow of death. So, my motel friend, you have a point. What I say here is“ Baa” and follow.

—Smuts van Rooyen

Rules and Regulations

The lack of traffic during the current shutdown allowed me to lie down in the middle of Avila Beach Road and shoot a sunrise from this perspective. Foolish or opportunistic? Notice the structures designed to protect our travel: guardrails, sidewalks, center dividing lines, and a stop sign. 

Society has developed systems to protect our lives and access a more enjoyable life for all—traffic standards, in this case. I can zip down to Avila Beach in ten minutes, even on a foggy morning, and with a high probability, I can make it safely alongside the Diablo Nuclear Power Plant employees changing shifts and other early birds like me. 

Sometimes, the rules can seem silly and unnecessary from our perspective, but we can be sure that these safety structures and regulations are the results of massive amounts of study, experience, and expense. Times and needs do change, and updates are needed to better serve us but the basics remain. 

In the beginning when the law of love was lived within relationships of freedom and joy the creator did not find it necessary to spell out a lot of regulations. With time the Ancient of Days found it necessary to give the Ten Commandments to His wayward children to help guide and protect them. 

Did you find it necessary to tell your children they should not kill? Did you have to explain or demonstrate to them that looks can kill, words can kill, and thoughts can kill? Myriad laws are required when we exit the law of love. God gave us the basic ten, but they are like the prime colors of red, blue, and yellow. You can mix them up and make innumerable colors...or laws.

It can be confusing. It was confusing to the lawyer who questioned Jesus about the greatest of the laws. “And he said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second like unto it is this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments the whole law hangeth, and the prophets” (‭Matthew‬ ‭22:37-40).‬ ‭

Thankfully, these two commandments cover all the others. We don’t need an extensive list. We only need two—actually, only one. That is the law of love. God is love. Just engage Him each morning for the next twenty-four hours. It’s a friendly, consensual relationship between the Father and His children, not a list of do’s and don’ts. Let’s pray, work, and play together in that kind of atmosphere.

—Larry Smith

Thorns, Thistles and Joy

The thorny issues at hand can obscure a bright future. We are made to multitask. We see with two eyes, work with two hands, and balance our walk and stance with two feet. We can do justice to burning issues within the context of a bright and hopeful future.

Can you imagine the grief, pain, and suffering Jesus felt in the Garden of Gethsemane, sweating as it were great drops of blood as He cried out, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). A crown of thorns and crucifixion awaited Him.

He did endure the cross by focusing on the joy set before Him as described in Hebrews 12:1,2.  We too can successfully conquer the thorny issues we face in our time and place by keeping the joy of His victory in our view. Let’s be informed about the issues we face today but not drowned in the flood of bad news. Let us keep our thumb on the remote, having the good sense to know how to use it. Let us take time to pray and look to Jesus for our instructions. He will give us the courage to get up and act appropriately by sharing His vision of joy made ours. We can be more than conquerors. We can be purveyors of peace, hope, and love in a land of desperation.
‭‭

2020 Isn't Cancelled

What if 2020 isn't cancelled?

What if 2020 is the year we've been waiting for?

A year so uncomfortable, so painful, so scary, so raw—

that it finally forces us to grow.

A year that screams so loud, finally awakening us

from our ignorant slumber.

A year we finally accept the need for change.

Declare change. Work for change. Become the change.

A year we finally band together, instead of

pushing each other further apart.

2020 isn't cancelled, but rather

the most important year of them all.

—Leslie Dwight

Homeward Bound

The world is being turned upside-down and inside-out. Our very roots and foundations are being shaken. There is no safe place, only safe relationships.

This picture was taken at the entrance to See Canyon. This is the way to my earthly home. I stay mostly at home now due to the coronavirus restrictions, but when I’m out and about, I always take a deep breath as I pass underneath the arching branch of this oak. I know I’m almost home, and it feels so good.

After a restful night’s sleep in my cozy bed—with breaks to answer Mother Nature,  play with pictures, and chat with God—I wake up to sounds of chirping birds and a babbling brook. The morning stretch is followed by a dip in the hot tub with my beautiful wife. Wow, Heaven on Earth, until...

My list of things to do includes phone calls to make, medical appointments to keep, medicines to pick up, gophers to kill, weeds to pull, painting that can’t wait much longer, bills to pay, a dog to feed, vet and grooming appointments to make, groceries to get, windows and clothes to wash, floors to clean, things galore to fix, trash, organize, store, and more, more, more! You get the picture. You likely live the picture.

As mates, we look at each other and say, “How about me? How about us? Let’s pray.” The most important things often suffer at the expense of the most pressing, expedient things. We could spend our limited time in so many ways. Priorities and choices battle in our brains.

I am so disgusted with the pain, suffering, and death I see, hear about, and feel. I have so many things I would like to do, so many things I should do, and a few things I must do. But I have so little time and limited energy.

I feel like a caged bird wanting to fly as I was created to do. I’m tired of this emergency. I want to get out. This Heaven on Earth is sometimes Hell. I count my blessings by the zillions, but this home is not my home. I am only homeward bound.

Dear God, thank you for the many blessings You have given us. Thank You for being in us and letting us be in You through these challenging and overwhelming times. Thank You for pointing us to the joy of restoration now and eternal salvation. This day we give You our hearts, souls, and minds. Amen.

—Larry Smith

How to Make this Moment the Turning Point for Real Change

By Barack Obama

As millions of people across the country take to the streets and raise their voices in response to the killing of George Floyd and the ongoing problem of unequal justice, many people have reached out asking how we can sustain momentum to bring about real change.

Ultimately, it’s going to be up to a new generation of activists to shape strategies that best fit the times. But I believe there are some basic lessons to draw from past efforts that are worth remembering.

First, the waves of protests across the country represent a genuine and legitimate frustration over a decades-long failure to reform police practices and the broader criminal justice system in the United States. The overwhelming majority of participants have been peaceful, courageous, responsible, and inspiring. They deserve our respect and support, not condemnation — something that police in cities like Camden and Flint have commendably understood.

On the other hand, the small minority of folks who’ve resorted to violence in various forms, whether out of genuine anger or mere opportunism, are putting innocent people at risk, compounding the destruction of neighborhoods that are often already short on services and investment and detracting from the larger cause. I saw an elderly black woman being interviewed today in tears because the only grocery store in her neighborhood had been trashed. If history is any guide, that store may take years to come back. So let’s not excuse violence, or rationalize it, or participate in it. If we want our criminal justice system, and American society at large, to operate on a higher ethical code, then we have to model that code ourselves.

Second, I’ve heard some suggest that the recurrent problem of racial bias in our criminal justice system proves that only protests and direct action can bring about change, and that voting and participation in electoral politics is a waste of time. I couldn’t disagree more. The point of protest is to raise public awareness, to put a spotlight on injustice, and to make the powers that be uncomfortable; in fact, throughout American history, it’s often only been in response to protests and civil disobedience that the political system has even paid attention to marginalized communities. But eventually, aspirations have to be translated into specific laws and institutional practices — and in a democracy, that only happens when we elect government officials who are responsive to our demands.

Moreover, it’s important for us to understand which levels of government have the biggest impact on our criminal justice system and police practices. When we think about politics, a lot of us focus only on the presidency and the federal government. And yes, we should be fighting to make sure that we have a president, a Congress, a U.S. Justice Department, and a federal judiciary that actually recognize the ongoing, corrosive role that racism plays in our society and want to do something about it. But the elected officials who matter most in reforming police departments and the criminal justice system work at the state and local levels.

It’s mayors and county executives that appoint most police chiefs and negotiate collective bargaining agreements with police unions. It’s district attorneys and state’s attorneys that decide whether or not to investigate and ultimately charge those involved in police misconduct. Those are all elected positions. In some places, police review boards with the power to monitor police conduct are elected as well. Unfortunately, voter turnout in these local races is usually pitifully low, especially among young people — which makes no sense given the direct impact these offices have on social justice issues, not to mention the fact that who wins and who loses those seats is often determined by just a few thousand, or even a few hundred, votes.

So the bottom line is this: if we want to bring about real change, then the choice isn’t between protest and politics. We have to do both. We have to mobilize to raise awareness, and we have to organize and cast our ballots to make sure that we elect candidates who will act on reform.

Finally, the more specific we can make demands for criminal justice and police reform, the harder it will be for elected officials to just offer lip service to the cause and then fall back into business as usual once protests have gone away. The content of that reform agenda will be different for various communities. A big city may need one set of reforms; a rural community may need another. Some agencies will require wholesale rehabilitation; others should make minor improvements. Every law enforcement agency should have clear policies, including an independent body that conducts investigations of alleged misconduct. Tailoring reforms for each community will require local activists and organizations to do their research and educate fellow citizens in their community on what strategies work best.

But as a starting point, here’s a report and toolkit developed by the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights and based on the work of the Task Force on 21st Century Policing that I formed when I was in the White House. And if you’re interested in taking concrete action, we’ve also created a dedicated site at the Obama Foundation to aggregate and direct you to useful resources and organizations who’ve been fighting the good fight at the local and national levels for years.

I recognize that these past few months have been hard and dispiriting — that the fear, sorrow, uncertainty, and hardship of a pandemic have been compounded by tragic reminders that prejudice and inequality still shape so much of American life. But watching the heightened activism of young people in recent weeks, of every race and every station, makes me hopeful. If, going forward, we can channel our justifiable anger into peaceful, sustained, and effective action, then this moment can be a real turning point in our nation’s long journey to live up to our highest ideals.

Let’s get to work.

Blown Away

When I see the beauty of a sunset, I am blown away.  When I try to capture the rising sun unveiling the day, I am blown away. Golden hours become my shrine of time.

When I feel the moist morning breeze upon my face, I am blown away.  A million questions pop into my head.  Answers slowly come as millions more are born.  I see, look, shoot, and wonder what is over the horizon.

The closer I look, the more I want a better macro lens or a microscope. The farther I look, the more I want a telescope. When I try to capture it all, I am blown away.

What more can I say? I am just blown away.

—Larry Smith

CCC Statement Regarding Tragic Killing of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd

CENTRAL CALIFORNIA CONFERENCE
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact: Ron Rasmussen
Executive Secretary
Central California Conference of Seventh-day Adventists
rrasmussen@cccsda.org | Phone: 559-347-3194

CLOVIS, CALIF.,—May 31, 2020, The leaders of the Central California Conference of Seventh-day Adventists (CCC) are heartbroken by the senseless and tragic killing of Mr. Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia and Mr. George Floyd in Minnesota, as well as the resulting aftermath across communities which clearly demonstrates the destructive nature of racism and injustice.

CCC rejects and condemns all injustice, all violence, all intolerance, all racism, anti-Semitism and all forms of hatred and bigotry. As a church body, we hurt when others hurt, we mourn when others mourn and empathize deeply with the victims of such unspeakable acts and behaviors witnessed in recent days. Those behaviors are in direct opposition to our calling and mission as a church. CCC supports, celebrates and values diversity. It is a gift from God that enriches our humanity.

We cannot control current events, but we can make a difference in our own sphere of influence on how we treat each other and how we respond to the injustices we witness. We need to live the love of Christ in our everyday walk, as He taught us, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39). Let us be reminded that we are neither “Jew nor Gentile,” neither “slave nor free,” nor “male and female” but rather, “one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28).

We look forward to the soon coming of Jesus, when He, as King of Kings and Lord of Lords, will take us to our eternal home. A home free of marginalization, free of pain, and free of all suffering and injustices. Until then, let us prayerfully press on to that bright, beautiful glorious day living CCC’s Vision statement, “Reflecting Christ. Transforming Communities.” In so doing, let not words alone satisfy our involvement, but deeds, action, hearts, hands and feet actively engaged in our communities to effect change. It is only
then that we become an “essential” church.

As we process the grieving, noisy and chaotic realities of the recent days, we want to stand against injustice and join hands with each other to express our unity of heart, to express our concern, our pain and love for the hurting families. We call and invite all people to the table of peace and into the intimacy, prayerful and restful silence of Jesus’ presence. It is there that we can find strength to love and compassion to heal. This is what is so badly needed today.

Little Things Matter

We enjoy watching the hummingbirds feed near our hot tub. Their aerodynamics put the Blue Angels to shame. This one made a miscalculation and ended up on the stone patio, presumably having flown into a window. 

Holding the hummer in my hand, I felt a tear come to my eye as I considered the creature’s beauty and its Creator. The design and colors rivaled any jeweled crown. Although small, it was more brilliant than the biggest diamond. 

What went wrong? What could I have done to prevent this? A cage would have been a prison, and CPR would have been useless. Freedom allows us to break our necks. Why are the most precious things so fragile and the mundane so enduring? If the hairs on my head are numbered (fewer by the day), and our Father notes a sparrow’s fall, this one deserves top billing. 

These are childish thoughts—or are they? Jesus says, “Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows” (Matthew‬ ‭10:31).‬ 

Life and death matter. We all matter, and God asks us what more He can do. During these disparaging times, let’s put our trust in trustworthy things, cling to hope, and love without ending.

—Larry Smith

Statement Regarding George Floyd

Central States Conference Official Statement Regarding George Floyd.

May 27, 2020

Statement Regarding the Death of George Floyd

We, the Central States Conference of Seventh-day Adventists, are deeply saddened, angered, and horrified by the tragic death of George Floyd, at the hands of Minneapolis Police Officers on Monday May 25, 2020.  We are thankful to the Minneapolis Police Department for their swift termination of the police officers involved in this tragedy.  We would like to see justice legally served that is equal to the crime perpetrated against George Floyd.  

As a Seventh-day Adventist Conference that oversees churches and members in the Minneapolis, Minnesota area, we fully support any and all non-violent protests, boycotts, and public pressure necessary to achieve justice for George Floyd.  As people of the Word, who believe in not only talking about God’s love but demonstrating God’s love, Isaiah 1:17 admonishes us to “Learn to do good; Seek justice; Rebuke the oppressor; Defend the fatherless, Plead for the widow.”  The wise man Solomon in Proverbs 18:5 reiterates “It is not right to acquit the guilty or deny justice to the innocent.”

Subsequently, we strongly believe that we have a spiritual and moral responsibility to the people and community within our territory, and it is our intent to always be concerned with the eternal destiny and the present welfare of our people.  Unlike the priest and the rabbi who witnessed an injured man and passed by on the other side, we will not turn a blind eye to the injustices that continue to be perpetrated against our people of color. 

If there is anything that our church members, pastors, churches, and Conference can do to support justice running down like a mighty stream for the family of George Floyd during this time of loss, we are here to serve.   May God have mercy on us, as we weep, but not without the hope that the God who sees all will bring present and eternal justice to all.

The Essential Work of the Church

By Deon K. Johnson

The work of the church is essential.

The work of caring for the lonely, the marginalized, and the oppressed is essential.

The work of speaking truth to power and seeking justice is essential.

The work of being a loving, liberating, and life-giving presence in the world is essential.

The work of welcoming the stranger, the refugee, and the undocumented is essential.

The work of reconciliation and healing and caring is essential.

The church does not need to "open" because the church never closed. We who make up the Body of Christ, the church, love God and our neighbors and ourselves so much that we will stay away from our buildings until it is safe. We are the church.

Look Up

My wife and I were mesmerized by this sunset on Monday night. She said to me, “It looks like the coming of the Lord.” The words of Jesus as recorded in Luke came to my mind:
“And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh” (Luke 21:28). 

We can move our head and turn our eyes to see where we are going. It’s another thing to stand up tall on the inside, knowing we’re a child of God and being filled with with joy, faith, hope, and love. Let’s lift up our heads today and be proud of our gracious Father who does not will that any should suffer and die but offers healing and life to all. That’s an offer we can’t refuse. But freedom must offer a choice. We will get the desires of our heart, and God will finally get His.

—Larry Smith

Memorial Day 2020

Madge Blake (Batman's Aunt Harriet) and her son, James Harlan “Harley” Blake

(From Pastor Chris’s brother, about our father)

By Bruce Blake

I’m remembering my dad today—James Harlan Blake.
It’s Memorial Day, and the evidence is that no more ardent advocate for peace exists than a soldier who has witnessed the horror of war.
Such was true of Jim Blake.
In WWII he was moving around the Italian and African “theater” of the war as a high-speed radio operator primarily detailed with Generals Eisenhower and Patton.
He got that job in a round-about way: His body racked with asthma as a child, little Harley” came roaring out into adolescence a fierce scrapper, his slight frame belying a quick-fisted defender of his depression-era downtown turf as street-corner newsboy.
He joined the army when World War II began, a potential rise in the ranks derailed by his propensity for fighting. At one point he knocked a fellow soldier through the wall of the barracks housing. The wall came down, and so did Jim’s rank—”bucked” from sergeant to private.
But you know how these things go. The infantry officer door closed . . . another one opened. One of his commanding officers recognized Jim’s smarts and quick hands, eventually training him in Morse code. Soon he became one of the fastest radio operators (both sending and receiving) in the U.S. Armed Forces, and was posted with the ranking generals of the campaign, often just behind the front lines.
It was close to the combat line in Northern Africa that his world drastically changed. I remember his telling me, with hushed reverence, the terrible details of his humbling transformation. He told me the story only once, but I’ll never forget the sound of his voice, so often laughing, now so solemn.
He had a best friend out there for quite a while—Dan, a fellow who served also in the communications tent. “He could have been a senator,” Dad observed, which in his eyes was a huge compliment. He continued describing.
They are outside getting ready to repair the antenna in the withering African heat, and Jim wants to go up and do the job, but Dan insists on climbing the tower. It’s a somewhat dangerous job, as the towers are quite high. However, they both like the challenge, the view, the break from the pressurized and maddening tap-tap-tapping of their critical daily duty.
The work completed, Dan starts to descend.
Out of nowhere, a German fighter plane comes blazing through the camp, and in a horrifying blast of gunfire knocks Dan off the tower to the ground, where he dies in Jim’s bloody and tear-soaked arms.
As Dad finished telling me this, he was silent.
”I never hit another man again. And since that day, I challenge every assumption that going to war is the only way to solve a problem.”
Jim returned home, married Mom (Marise), became a brilliant history teacher, a writer and artist. But for him his most important role was as a powerful guide for young men. As a basketball coach he regularly led his tenacious, undersized teams far beyond their seeming capacities, eventually winning the top prize of the CIF large school championship with a band of disciplined, enthusiastic, smart, and (would you believe it?) scrappy players.
Many years ago and long after Jim died of cancer, someone I’d never met approached me on the street.
”You”re Bruce Blake, aren’t you?”
Oh-oh, I’m thinkin’, now what have I done?
”I just wanted to tell you that I had your dad for a teacher, and I’ll never forget him. In some ways I owe my life to him. I was heading in a very bad direction. He really inspired me to become more involved with life, you know? I started to think and come at the world in a different way. And he made me LAUGH!”
At this point the man laughed. “Yeah. I never got a chance to thank him. So I just wanted to tell you.”
I thank you too, Dad.
And I remember you.

Remember When? Part 6

The People (Segment II)

By Larry Downing

A pre-teen sees people through eyes far different from those of an adult.  What follows is a remembrance of what a pre-teen saw as he week-by-week came to the SLO Adventist church.  

Mrs. Neva Richards, at the Buchon St. church, led out in the lower divisions.  She was the sister of Russel Easter, one of the church elders.  I recall we sang Rock, Rock, Rock little boat on blue Galilee while Mrs. Richards gently rocked a small, glass boat and passed it among us kids so we, like she, could rock the boat.  Neva was married to Clarence, who was not an Adventist.  I recall her stating that he resisted giving her money for the church.  Her solution?  When she washed her husbands pants there would often be money in his pockets.  That money went into the offering plate.  

In 1949 a group of us kids traveled to  Wawona Junior camp in  Russel Easter’s flat-bed truck equipped with wooden side-rails.  Clarence Richards drove the truck with us guys playing about in the back.  One of the kids tossed an apple core at a passing car.  The drive turned around, pulled over the truck and gave us what-for.  We were adamant in stating our innocence. I’m sure neither the driver nor Mr. Richards bought our story.  I recall Mr. Richards read us the riot act and we continued our way to summer camp.  This was the first of my two summer camp experiences.

Russel and Adele Easter were church leaders.  Russel, as noted above, was a church elder. Adele was Home Missionary leader.  She reminded us now-and-again that that she was related to Elder Wood, the editor of the Review and Herald, the official church publication.  Mrs. Wood, Adele’s mother lived with the Easters.  Was she Elder Wood’s mother or sister?  I don’t recall.  What sticks in my memory is that Adele liked to sing solos in church. Dad, more than once, remarried to my mother that he would rather have listened to a squeaky door hinge.  

Adele, as Home Missionary Secretary, before the worship hour began, took the Missionary Report   The Missionary Report was opportunity for people to share with the congregation the good things they had done that week:  How many home visits?  How many pieces of literature given out?  How many food baskets or bouquets?  How many hours volunteer work?  At the end of each quarter the response totals were sent in to the Conference Home Missionary Secretary. As an adult, I once asked one of the men who held that office if he ever looked at the reports.  He looked at me like I’d asked him if he came from Mars.  

The Home Missionary Secretary, like the Sabbath Lesson Review, Birthday-Thank Offering, the Mission Story and Investment have joined the Relic category.  (The Reviewwas part of the weekly Sabbath School program.  Each week someone summarized the salient points from the previous week’s Sabbath School lesson. At times, the reviewer’s Review took most of the lesson study time. Investment was a program that encouraged people to create a method to produce money that would then be donated to the Investment Fund for missions.  Some people great vegetables and sold them. Others picked up soda bottles from the side of the road and donated the money.  All manner of other “creative” endeavors were part of an Investment project to support missions.  What people did not know is that the collected money went into the GC budget with all the other funds.)

The Home Missionary Secretary, in addition to the weekly missionary activity report,  was the Harvest Ingathering person.  Adele set up charts in the front of the church to let the congregation in on how we were coming with our Minute Man Goal.  

Someone, who had nothing better to do, had at some point calculated that it took $25.00 each minute to fund the World Mission program.  A Minute Man was one who solicited $25.00, or more, for Ingathering.  Adele wrote the name of each Minute Man on a chart to serve as a reminder to others to get with it and solicit 25 bucks.  Each Sabbath during the Ingathering season, Adele presented a ribbon to the successful solicitors who had achieved their Minute Man goal. Some people had multiple ribbons, a sign of something-or-other. She also announced her personal solicitation successes.  (As a note:  Conference officials made Ingathering a big deal.  Pastors were held accountable for the success or failure of their individual congregations.  In some conferences in the Southern states, the pastor could not take a vacation if the church had not met its Ingathering goal.) 

My mother Ingathered, often with Charlotte Moscomen. Mom did not enjoy the task, and let us know she was a reluctant Ingatherer.  My dad refused to have anything to do with asking people for money.  “What if I met a customer?  How could I ask for money?”  

Contemporary churches have deleted the Harvest Ingathering program from all hard drive memories. Those of us who experienced those days respond by singing the Hallelujah Chorus!  

Rat Trap Love

I’ve pursued and purchased things I later regretted over the years, starting with a Lone Ranger decoder ring at age six. I had to send in a cereal box top and a quarter. I couldn’t figure out why Kellogg’s needed box tops, but I was proud to help them out by returning one with my weekly savings. I doubt there was a kid prouder of that ring or who loved it more than I. Grandma’s frown at my heathen investment didn’t tarnish my pride. Time did. I was disappointed in its decoding record and eventually tossed it. 

I mail-ordered secrets from Charles Atlas to make me look like him and instructions on magic tricks to rival the best in the business. My closet contained nice roller and ice skates purchased to prepare me for my reserved spot in the Ice Follies replacing Richard Dwyer when he retired. I soon learned the reality of follies and felt somewhat redeemed when Ice Capades showed up...a better name. Holiday on Ice sounded even better. Needless to say, I retained the scrawny frame and didn’t have a magic show on the strip, nor did I find skating fun, much less land a staring role in anything. But, I loved the early pursuits. 

I’ve joined the crowds that have fallen for free things, eventually learning that nothing is free—It’s a matter of who pays for it. It’s usually me paying with high interest. I’ve fallen for miracle drugs promising to make me lose weight, grow hair, remove ugly spots, and get smarter. I did get smarter. That worked, but not by the intended method. I’ve listened to TV preachers telling me that if I really loved the Lord, I would give my money to him—by sending it to their address. I even had a rare occasion when a girl who fit the definition of a gold digger showed interest in me—until she found out there was no gold. 

I can relate to Eve in the Genesis story going out of her prescribed way to have a conversation with a snake. Oh, it was a beautiful and cunning creature with promises of wisdom, knowledge of good and evil—everything. Not becoming a snake but becoming like God! Wow!  That’s better than my Lone Ranger decoder ring. Yes, she learned good and evil, truth and error, but she lost the life she was designed to live. What a loss. What a lie. What a secret to learn. What a folly. This was not only a female thing. Adam bought into it also. I bought into it. In a recent discussion of this with Linda, I called it Rat Trap Love. Goodies are dangled in front of us like tinsel on a Christmas tree. If you’re human, and most of us are, you struggle with it. We are not left to our own weaknesses. We pursue our urges to fulfill our needs, then eventually recognize our need for a Creator-Savior. He is waiting there at the end of our rope. 

I’m sharing my life experiences here to identify with you, my friend. I have stood at that tree. I often pass by that rat trap. I’ve been caught before but only by an appendage and not my neck. I pray to God and know that He will set me free when I get trapped. That’s the kind of whole life insurance I buy now, not the death insurance I purchased in the past from New York Life, which was mislabeled life insurance. Jesus has offered to be in us and invited us to be in Him. 

Here are a couple of texts that help keep my head out of the rat trap: 

“There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭16:25‬ ‭

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
‭‭Philippians‬ ‭4:8‬ ‭KJV‬‬ 

—Larry Smith

We Have to Celebrate

“‘But we had to celebrate and show our joy.
For this is your brother; he was dead—and he’s alive.
He was lost—and now he is found!’”

— Luke 15:32, Phillips

This past weekend, many high school seniors celebrated their 2020 graduation. It was done virtually cost-free and was not even remotely downplayed.
In a remarkable act of unity CNN, MSNBC, and even FOX transmitted a commencement address from President Barack Obama along with appearances by Nobel Prize laureate Malala Yousafzai, National Teacher of the Year Rodney Robinson, the Jonas Brothers, LeBron James, Pharrell Williams, Megan Rapinoe, and lots of others.
According to CNN, with pomp and pandemic circumstances schools are now finding creative ways to honor graduates. Speedway High School in Indiana, “located just a few blocks from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, home of the Indianapolis 500, will give out their diplomas at the racetrack’s famous ‘Yard of Bricks’ finish line. Each student and their family will be allowed one car, in which they will get to drive onto the speedway and get out at the finish line to receive their diploma.”
At Hanover Area High School in Pennsylvania, the graduates will attend a ceremony at the Garden Drive-in Theater. The 141 seniors and their families “will watch from their cars as prerecorded speeches, photo slide shows and individual acknowledgments project onto the theater’s screen.”
Other schools are adopting an even more personalized approach, delivering diplomas directly to the door. As one principal notes, “This might be something that Dohn High School just does [in the future]. You know, once you come to Dohn and graduate, we’re going to bring the diploma to you.”
Here in San Luis Obispo we still anticipate high school and university graduations. But in a time of far-reaching fear and sorrow, the question could be asked: Why should we celebrate?

* * *

When I taught college Public Speaking, some students would implode up front nearly to knee-knocking incoherence. As their communications professor, I offered a potent salve for their fear.
Celebration.
I told them, “After each speech, you will applaud feverishly for one another. You will also yell, whistle, pound desks, yodel, holla, stomp, and screech until there commences such a din, uproar, cacophony, and tumult that every person in the entire building—verily, in the entire hemisphere—knows for a certainty: ‘Yes, another speech has finished.’”
Imagine what it’s like for these hesitant first-year students to complete a flawed presentation and receive this raucous, unrestrained approval.
So it is in heaven.
We are called to celebrate the grace of God who so enormously nourishes, liberates, and delights us. Of course, celebrations didn’t come naturally for early Adventists. We would be a much different church had we originated not in New England but in New Orleans.
Yet celebration is our biblical mandate, our holy calling. God created festivals (think: “Kosher Party!”) such as Feast of Unleavened Bread (Passover), Feast of Weeks (Pentecost), Feast of Tabernacles (Ingathering), the Blowing of Trumpets (Rosh Hashanah), and the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur).
Herman Melville declares, “The reason the mass of men fear God, and at bottom dislike Him, is because they rather distrust His heart, and fancy Him all brain like a watch.”
God counters this drab, soulless impression with heaps of celebrations, and asks God’s children to do the same. “Holiness” is not principally avoiding sin. As Dag Hammarskjold wisely observes, “The road to holiness necessarily runs through the world of action.” Jesus asks us to bear fruit, not avoid leaf fungus.
Holiness is found in following Jesus. His lifestyle is proactive, not antiseptic. Just as light is more than the absence of darkness and love is more than neglecting hate, Christianity is more than arriving at death safely. The purest Christians celebrate every sacred molecule of life grandly—their heartbeats pulse gratitude each risen morning of incarnational life.
Following Jesus changes our perspective on what is celebration worthy. Poet Randall Jarrell points out, “If we judge by wealth and power, our times are the best of times; if the times have made us willing to judge by wealth and power, they are the worst of times.”
As Adventists, we live by grace, in peace, for love, with joy. Joylessly serving God is like peeling a grape—so little return for so much effort.
So though we live in a time of global fear and sorrow, we will rejoice continually, even in small triumphs, and particularly when a brother or sister chooses life. Then, as it is in heaven, we applaud and yell and yodel until there commences such a din, uproar, cacophony, and tumult that every being in the entire universe—verily, in all the spheres—knows for certain: Yes, another child of the Master has entered eternity.
Eternal life begins now. Now. Now.
Enjoy the journey.

—Chris Blake

Bridge to Morros

Leave
yesterday’s failures
behind,
and
go for
tomorrow’s opportunities
to succeed!

—Larry Smith