The Spectrum Blog

Bloggin' the 28: In Medias Res, the Preamble

Leaving no doctrinal gem unturned in our summer Bloggin' the 28 project, Loma Linda University professor and blogger, Julius Nam, glosses the famous preamble to the Fundamental Beliefs.

He presents truth:

This preamble—in what it says and does not say—is pregnant with the potential to lead Adventism further into becoming an incredibly open, dynamic, diverse yet mutually engaged community. The genius of this statement is that it makes the bold claim that there is no creed but the Bible, yet it does not tell you how you should read it—and then it prevents the 28 from encroaching upon the absolute place of Scripture by relativizing those statements and making them vulnerable to changes. Thus, to be an Adventist, you only need to accord Scripture a creedal place in your belief system—and then commit to engaging with the rest of the community in seeking a fuller meaning and application of Scripture. Your Adventism is not to be judged by the 28 (which are descriptive statements of the dominant, consensus views, but not normative), by any statement made by a traditional authority (such as Ellen White, Joseph Bates, or Uriah Smith), or by positions propounded by representatives of any administrative structures or major church institutions (such as Andrews Seminary, Biblical Research Institute, or Loma Linda University). This may seem like an unrealistic expectation, but it’s the very vision that is implicit in the preamble. It is a statement of hope for a community that is patient and kind with each other because no one has the final word on the truth.

Read the whole essay and join the already active commentators here.

The theft of the future -- the relationship between the market and religion and today's social movements

By Alexander Carpenter

This is about an hour long which will take a commitment to watch, but it will be well-worth your time if you wonder what is going on with capitalism, faith and social change in the world these days.

The New Great Transformation with Paul Hawken

Video from the Long Now Foundation - San Francisco, CA

The title of Paul Hawken's talk, "The New Great Transformation," has two referents. Economist Karl Polanyi’s 1944 book, THE GREAT TRANSFORMATION, said that the "market society" and modern nation state emerged together in Europe after 1700 and divided society in ways that have yet to be healed.

Karen Armstrong's 2006 book, THE GREAT TRANSFORMATION, explores "the Axial Age" between 800 and 200 BC when the world's great religions and philosophies first took shape. They were all initially social movements, she says, acting on revulsion against the violence and injustice of their times.

Both books describe conditions in which "the future is stolen and sold to the present," said Hawken - a situation we are having to deal with yet again

Bloggin' the 28: Re-presenting God

By Alexander Carpenter

Seventh-day Adventists Believe. . .

God the Father
God the Eternal Father is the Creator, Source, Sustainer, and Sovereign of all creation. He is just and holy, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. The qualities and powers exhibited in the Son and the Holy Spirit are also revelations of the Father. --Fundamental Belief 3

Here's my premise: Fathers are not inherently more Godly than husbands, grandfathers, brothers, sisters, mothers or wives. What we call God should not be some lingo-football tossed around in the socio-political game of the sex-wars. Rather, God is the ultimate definition of Being, and who God is tells us who and how we ought to Be.

Now here's my point: How we define God often leads to how we treat each other and it's no small coincidence that a church that defines God as a father continues to officially subordinate its female members.

And I respect all my family members too much to define my God by one role.   

As has been pointed out hundreds of times -- I think very well in Jack Miles' God: A Biography -- the Bible uses both paternal and maternal metaphors for the divine, as well as God being at times a creator or destroyer, an angry, mistaken, implacable executioner as well as a lover.

Clearly the Jewish experience with the divine is quite eclectic and stretches beyond our current comfort zone of just father. If we name all the traits we do in our current doctrinal articulation of God as father we then imply that fatherhood includes these characteristics. Which is fine, but then we should at least somewhere articulate the other gender side of the human/divine relationship. And this lack of attention to articulating what a God-like mother might be, just also might be keeping our global church from ordaining the Godly in women too.

Some might argue that another approach would be to just stop anthropomorphizing GOD, which includes the pronouns. I see that our bloggin' linguist goes Jewish and leaves out the vowels. I respect his respect.

Since I don't want to get into a Foucauldian discussion of how our rhetoric -- our chains of sentences -- work to control us, I'll move on, but let's not just slip into the false comfort of tradition. In fact, our Protestant tradition, and even more the religious dissidents from the Anabaptists to the Quakers and certainly the early Adventists really worked hard to make their language conform to their principles of equality before God. They called each other brother and sister, and the Puritan use of "Thou" for God was actually the informal second person singular. Christians creating present truth always pay attention to language. So it seems both reasonable and morally fair that we either stop using any anthropomorphic terms for God or we articulate more fully the divine relationship to both men and women.

But the point of this summer Bloggin' the 28 project is not to merely redescribe theology, but to think creatively about what it means to apply our beliefs today.

On Friday night I attended Kinship Kampmeeting, held in San Francisco this year. As I sat in the Sheraton conference room packed with GLBT Adventists and their straight friends, I listened to people already making my blogging job easy.

Throughout the evening of foot washing, memorial for a Kinship member who died last week of AIDS, and shared communion, several of the pray-ers addressed God as mother and father. Did it move me greatly? Not especially; but it made me think about what our public definitions of God cause us to be and do. Here are people who experience deeply the fluidity of human gender and bare deep, terrible scars from the first-stones-cast by their community members. Whether one thinks that God hates sinning fags, just wants them to stay celibate or wants them to have really good gay sex, there should be little doubt that gender and God is a lot more complicated than our current paterfamilias definition implies.

But beyond the fact that we'll always fall short, on Friday, in the context of a strong, loving community, it was clear to me again that our experiences with other humans always, already affect our conception of God. And this makes me want to broaden my public witness about God in words, but also in deeds -- because the better we understand ourselves and our brothers and sisters, the better we'll understand our God. For the God of the spectrum of human shapes and colors also is the God of the spectrum of gender.

We believe that God is Creator, Source, Sovereign, Sustainer and it seems unbalanced to only associate -- fundamentally -- those characteristics with fatherhood. It seems like lesbian husbands and gay wives, single mothers, child-raising grandparents all embody to various degrees of these Godly traits as well.

Our belief is that God is "Creator, Source, Sustainer, and Sovereign of all creation." Jared Wright (Adventist Environmental Advocacy) has already pointed out the moral call to environmental care for creation; instead I want to draw attention to the action verb element of what God means. Creation is not a dominion to God, but an on-going experience in which God plays an active role by continuing to create through us, giving teleological meaning, caring about sustainable human practices, and giving healthy models for being in and relating to authority.

The bottom line is that if God is like that, so should we be as well. And if I can take a second to nudge those Adventists who make the Second Coming contingent on the character of God being reproduced in every believer -- I say, let's really talk about what that character is. According to Adventist beliefs, it looks to me that God cares about the environment, and as I read through our doctrine it seems that to be God-like means to care about justice and holiness, to be merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. And everything we saw in Jesus and revealed by God's Spirit today is also a quality of the DIVINE.

Let's relate God to each other, beyond just the relationship of father -- which will broaden our understanding of the divine character. Namely, an action verb experience that unfolds in relationships, because there's no such thing as being perfectly slow to anger, or perfectly merciful, or perfectly just. Those are always contingent on a context. And thus to me, dear brothers and sisters, living out the personhood of God seems to be more than a state of being or a fundamental statement of Being -- instead we're called to Be-come through Being.

Art: Spiritual Journey Through Art - Part 3

By Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson

Moving Forward: Packing for the Journey

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson

Last week, we completed part 2 of our spiritual journey through art. We have now taken survey of the landscape of our spiritual journeys and mapped where we’ve come from and where we’re going. In case you missed them, here are links to the intro, part 1, and part 2. This week, we’re considering what we carry with us on the journey.

This is your spiritual luggage. What’s in it?

Luggage, in this exercise, represents the spiritual heritage that has been handed down to us, the philosophies, ideas, and beliefs we’ve collected along the way, the tools we use along the journey to forge our own paths.

I think it's very hard to be spiritual unless you have resisted the religious ideas that were first given to you, unless you resist dogma. It seems to me that great religious or spiritual journeys are just that: journeys; they are passages from one side to another. If you buy what has been given to you as dogma, you may be religious in some terms but you probably know very little about the spiritual. There are of course ways of taking journeys within one's own religion. I've always liked that Buddha, in order to talk about sin and temptation, had to pass through the city of sin and temptation. He didn't avoid it, he went through it, came out with a vision that exceeded it. That's a spiritual journey. If you stand still, you know nothing about spirituality.  -Stephen Dunn, poet

Consider these biblical references (some narrative, some metaphorical) to what we carry on our spiritual journeys:

• When Jesus sent out the 70, he directed them, “Go your way; behold, I send you out as lambs among wolves. Carry neither money bag, knapsack, nor sandals; and greet no one along the road. But whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house.’” (Luke 10:3, 4)
• For the rich young ruler, the message was similar: “‘One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.’” (Mark 10:21)
• Noah was commanded to take some unusual baggage on his boat ride. “And of every living thing of all flesh you shall bring two of every sort into the ark, to keep them alive with you; they shall be male and female.” (Genesis 6:19)
• Paul bids us, “Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.” (Ephesians 6:11)

While I attended boarding academy years ago, I flew back to Japan every summer with two suitcases so full they barely zipped shut. My suitcases were bursting with clothes (you know how teenage girls are about clothes), books I couldn’t part with for even a couple of months, and a plethora of stuffed animals. At customs at Narita International Airport, stuffed animals popped out left and right, much to the dismay of officials who made the, in my opinion, unwise decision to inspect my suitcases. I think I packed everything I could, because I didn’t know which belongings I really wanted with me over the summer.

By contrast, fifteen years later when my husband and I traveled to France and Germany for two weeks, we each packed a backpack in the spirit of Rick Steves. We had travel-sized everything. Each piece of clothing was carefully chosen and rolled into the tiniest space possible. Everything we needed we carried on our backs, and when my pack got too heavy, my husband took some of the load.

Somewhere between academy and the trip to Europe, I grew out of a pack rat and into someone who enjoys purging excess belongings. This is true of my spiritual luggage too. I’ve shed much of what feels unnecessary to my spiritual journey, and I’m down to the bare essentials. These include faith in grace, kindness toward others, open-mindedness, and responsibility to humanity. They aren’t 28 fundamental beliefs, but they are my fundamental beliefs. I believe they’ll last me the journey. Even so, even though they’re light luggage, sometimes I still need someone to help me carry the weight.

1. Take inventory of what you’re carrying on your spiritual journey. Ponder the symbolism of what’s in your spiritual luggage.

• Is your luggage light or heavy? Did you pack light, or do you have a dozen suitcases of luggage?
• What’s in your luggage? Ten pounds of Ellen White’s Testimonies? Twenty-eight Fundamental Beliefs? A stack of old Spectrum magazines? A case of Nuteena?
• Have you been asked to carry something unexpected on your journey—an illness, an emerging talent, or an experience of grief, for example? Were you handed Moses’ leadership role, Job’s boils, or Noah’s livestock to take on the journey when you least expected it?
• How much of what you’re carrying with you was an inheritance? How much have you acquired along the way?
• What did you forget to pack? Did you forget that robe of grace, balm of Gilead, or armor of light? Did you lose something along the way that you miss—mustard seeds perhaps?
• What baggage do I need to leave behind? Have you acquired excess belongings?
• What kind of shoes did you pack for the journey? New Testament sandals? Combat boots? Running shoes? Why?

Here’s my luggage (drawn left-handed once again) and some of its contents:

I’ve packed a library—the Bible, Ellen White, and fiction. Much of what I know and believe about the world and God, I learned from these books that aren’t so removed from one another as one might expect. I’ve also packed a compass that represents my explorer’s spirit and a palette with which to express my love of the beauty, balance, color, texture, etc., all at play in the world.

I’m still searching for answers to the difficult questions—the ones that everyone always tries to answer but never adequately—and also a spiritual community. Though I’ve depicted community by a church building, my sense is that my spiritual community has boundaries different from the walls of a church building, or even a set of 28 doctrines. My spiritual community is creative, alive, and expansive in ways that transcend typical boundaries, and I haven’t found it yet.

Along my journey, I’ve lost a child’s faith in which prayers are always heard. I want to believe that prayers are always heard, but sometimes I just don’t know. By choice, I’ve left behind most of my black and white film, because the world is more colorful and complex than black and white photos can represent.

I’m still carrying too much luggage though. I need to empty my carrying case of guilt, because I have grace instead. I need to rid my luggage of unnecessary boxes in which I like to place people who have received my stamp of disapproval, because they too have grace. My luggage will be lighter that way, and more joyful, and I’ll go farther in my travels.

“Bon voyage!” Jesus bids. “For My yoke is easy and My burden is light,” he says (Matthew 11:30). Not only that, when I am lost, he carries me. In the Parable of the Lost Sheep, when the good shepherd finds the one lost sheep he “lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing” and carries it home. (Matthew 15:5) I am meant to thrive along the journey. “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

2. Make a drawing that represents what you’re packing for your spiritual travels. You may want to divide your belongings into four piles: what’s in your luggage, what you forgot to pack, what you’re looking for, and what you need to leave behind.

What does your luggage reveal about you, the spiritual traveler? This exercise is about taking inventory, and if necessary, allowing us to recognize what’s weighing us down. Perhaps you'll be reminded of what's most important to you in your spiritual journey. Or, if there are belongings you need to get rid of, perhaps you'll take this opportunity to mentally unpack them from your luggage and leave them behind. Perhaps you'll decide to take the time to open your luggage regularly to see what you can learn about your spiritual journey.

Discovery often comes to us slowly, after all. I'll leave you to ponder this quote from Rainier Maria Rilke:

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer."

Are you participating in this art journey? If so, please leave a comment and let me know. And as always, if you’re brave enough to share your creations with the world, scan them in and email them to me (signed or anonymously) at sharon@sharonfujimoto-johnson.com along with a brief description of your artwork. I’ll see about putting them up on the blog.

Next week’s activity is “Traveling: Living on the Road.”

Next up in Bloggin' the 28

July 31: In Medius Res: Julius Nam
Aug 03: Stewardship: Jared Wright 
Aug 07: Marriage and the Family: Carrol Grady/Siroj Sorajjakool
Aug 10: The Gift of Prophecy: Alexander Carpenter 
Aug 14: Christ's Ministry in the Heavenly Sanctuary: Marty Thurber/ David Hamstra
Aug 17: God the Son: Trudy Morgan-Cole
Aug 21: Death and Resurrection: David Larson
Aug 24: Spiritual Gifts and Ministries: Marcel Schwantes
Aug 28: Law of God: Nathan Blake
Aug 31: Nature of Man: Sherman Cox II
Sep 04: Sabbath: Brian Swarts
Sep 07: Second Coming of Christ: Nathan Brown
Sep 11: Growing in Christ: Trevan Osborn
Sep 14: Church: Ryan Bell
Sep 16: Holy Spirit: Tompaul Wheeler
Sep 18: Experience of Salvation: Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson
Sep 21: Christian Behavior: Chris Blake
Sep 25: Baptism: Ryan Bell
Sep 28: New Earth: Monte Sahlin

An Adventist witness in these times

By Alexander Carpenter

Check out Hollywood Seventh-day Adventist Church pastor (and blogger) Ryan Bell speaking out about affordable housing for the least of these in his community. Instead of diluting faith down to the privatistic mantra: "personal relationship with God," Ryan endeavors to lead his members in turning their personal faith into a public witness for peace and justice. A prophetic voice beyond the old works oriented salvation, or guilting people into social service handouts. . .this is a Christian community confronting society with the gospel of salvation in action.

Loma Linda University profressor Julius Nam writes: "My heart beams with pride for your voice. May your angelic loud cry awaken hearts and minds for life-changing actions and decisions in Los Angeles!" Perhaps this is the new evangelism, the prophetic Adventist witness of the future.

Creation: on the Cliff

By Andy Hanson, a semi-retired Professor of Education at California State University, Chico.  He is also editor of the Grace Connection, a magazine and website. He writes: "When I saw the Non Sequitur cartoon in the Sunday paper a couple of weeks ago, I thought immediately of Cliff [Goldstein]. The shoe just seemed to fit." Click on the image and it will open to readable size.

Ivory Tower Overhaul

By Alexander Carpenter

In light of the spirited response to Jonathan Pichot's provocative essay on Adventist higher education, I am posting this recent Cato Institute discussion by the U.S. Secretary of Education's panel to inspect and renovate American higher education. I think might be especially informative as the panel includes the president of St. John's College (which has come up in the comment section and is a school on which both Pacific Union College and Andrews University have modeled their honors programs). The other reason that this might be helpful is that, included on the panel is the author of Generation Debt, a book (and growing movement) addressing the often-cruel reality of the government subsidized, for-profit student loan industry.

Two things everyone seems to know about higher education are that it's extremely expensive and that it gets more so every year. That, however, is about the extent of our collective certainty, because many critical questions never seem to get answered: Why does tuition rise relentlessly? What are students actually learning? What's the payoff of higher education? In light of all the open questions, it's no surprise that Americans are getting increasingly uneasy about the prices that colleges and universities are asking them to pay.

Last year, the U.S. secretary of education established a commission to inspect America's ivory tower and formulate a "national strategy" for its renovation. With the commission's final report now out, we invite you to join our diverse panel of experts for a lively debate of higher education's problems, and the best ways to fix them - The Cato Institute

Featuring Charles Miller, Chairman, the Secretary of Education's Commission on the Future of Higher Education; Christopher Nelson, President, St. John's College; Anya Kamenetz, Author, Generation Debt; Neal McCluskey, Policy Analyst, Center for Educational Freedom, Cato Institute; and moderated by Doug Lederman, Editor, Inside Higher Ed.

Bloggin' the 28:Spiritual Practices Derived from Creation Theology

Continuing our summer Bloggin' the 28 project, La Sierra University M.Div student (and recent student missionary in Thailand) Jared Wright applies fundamental belief number 6: Creation to contemporary Adventist life.

He writes:

Taking care of God’s creation isn’t simply a matter of using resources in a responsible manner, it means treating the earth in such a way that human impact betters our environment. Jesus drew out this principle in his parable of talents given to several servants. Clearly, when God gives, He provides opportunities for betterment and improvement of His gifts. (It’s interesting to think that even after God saw that all He had made was “good”, there was room for people to continue to improve it!) The imagery employed in Genesis of God’s spirit hovering over the earth is very similar language to the words Jesus used when he described a mother hen brooding over its chicks. The imagery is not primarily one of protection, but rather of moving over and stimulating to life and growth – making it all come alive! Considering that imagery, it seems that implicit in the account of God’s creating is a strong sense in which this creation must be preserved, stimulated and fostered. Creation care not only implies environmental stewardship, but also careful attention to all created things: plants, animals, and people.

Read and comment here.

Rethinking Adventist (humanities) education

By Jonathan Pichot

A year ago I graduated from Andrews Academy, the Adventist secondary school associated with Andrews University. Having grown up in Adventist education, I had planned to attend a non-Adventist college in an attempt to both prove to myself that I could survive outside the Adventist "bubble" and because I took for granted that the academics at top secular schools were far superior to those at any Adventist university. I applied to two secular schools: one of the top two public universities in the nation as well as a top ten private university. I was accepted at both. Yet, because of a combination of finances, reflection, and a genuine impression that God preferred me elsewhere, I turned them down, and registered at Pacific Union College (PUC) in the Fall of 2006. What had attracted me to the school above all other Adventist colleges was its honors program whose curriculum surveys original texts, most considered "classics" or "great books" in a wide variety of fields. The classes were small and discussion based, and students were encouraged to participate in a more open dialogue with faculty than in a typical class. So, when September arrived, I left with my father and drove for three days from Michigan to California to a school I had never visited and where I knew no one.

Historically, as I understand it, most Adventist young people who attended non-Adventist colleges did so because of finances and location, not because of academics. Up until the past couple of decades, the priority of the vast majority of Adventist students pursuing college was to attend an Adventist school, usually whichever school was nearest them. Yet over time, Adventist students have become more discerning of their college choices. They are beginning to demand not only an Adventist community, but strong academics, internship and research opportunities, study abroad programs, and stimulating classmates. This new sophistication has led to a growth of Adventist students at many of the nations top schools. (The Spectrum Blog recently reported on three Adventist sisters graduating from Dartmouth). This trend is marked by a growing number of active Adventist student groups at many top universities including Berkeley, Stanford, Michigan, Princeton, and Columbia. Adventists attending these schools could have very likely afforded Adventist education but instead chose these more prestigious institutions.

When I first arrived at PUC, I was ready to make the most of the courses available. I studied the class bulletin, highlighting course titles that intrigued me. Yet by the end of my winter quarter, I was disappointed. Of all the classes I had taken, the honors classes felt most like what a college education should be, yet even they were occasionally underwhelming. Perhaps I had idealized college too much, but was it really unfair to expect better? I had hoped for a rigorous education with small classes, challenging reading, and stimulating discussion. I had found inconsistency. Some classes were good, with a brilliant professor and enough engaged students to make it worthwhile. Yet other classes never rose above a high school level and with more than a few students who didn't either. There were extraordinary professors and others less gifted. But too often, a class that had sounded fascinating in the course bulletin, in the end, disappointed.

I was not alone in my disenchantment. Several of my friends, most of them honors students, also complained about the lack of academically challenging courses. At least the honors program gave the most intellectually curious students a community in which they could find other students with similar desires. In the conversations and friendships that I developed with these classmates I discovered a fundamental aspect of education outside the classroom: my peers. It was my interaction with them–our discussions, our dreams, our projects–that most excited me. The classroom, sadly, was too often dull and uninspiring. My peers, at least, were interesting. I began to realize what had most often limited the quality of discussion in class, and along with it the professors academic expectations, was the quality of students available. The most brilliant professors were often limited by the students in front of them. With these concerns, some friends and I began to search for a solution. We decided we needed a new school, one that would attract the best Adventist students from across the country and so create a vibrant intellectual community.

Though honors programs like the one at PUC do a good job of fostering a small but serious intellectual community on campus, there is the need for a larger commitment. In my mind, the ideal scenario would be the creation of an Adventist college dedicated to a rigorous liberal education the likes of which is found at the best schools in the country. Whether this school would be created from scratch or rise out of one of our existing schools does not matter. Regardless, such a school would attempt to offer something that is currently not found at any existing Adventist college: a rigorous and unabashedly intellectual community, regardless of discipline, dedicated to the highest standards of teaching and learning. I believe the landscape of higher education in the church is now large enough and well enough established to support such a school. Speaking informally about such a college to Adventist students across the country, I've always received a positive response. I know several Adventist students at top schools who would have preferred an Adventist community, but because of the competitive nature of their chosen fields, decided on academic quality. There is a demand amongst top Adventist students for such a school. What is needed is a new commitment.

As has been discussed on The Spectrum Blog before, the Adventist community takes pride in the reputation of its top school, Loma Linda University. Medicine has always played a large role in our church, as it should. Yet this emphasis, as well as certain tendencies with the church, has often detracted from other fields of study, particularly the humanities. I believe the Adventist church now needs a flagship liberal arts college if it is going to attract and engage its most promising young people. The best students in Adventism, those at the Ivies and in the honors classrooms of Adventist schools, are the future of the church and its best hope to prosper and remain relevant in the 21st century. Let's create a college worthy of them.

This 'Adventist Home'

By Alexander Carpenter

Recently, This American Life played a tape recorded by a family in Berrien Springs, MI for their son who was -- at the time -- a medical student at Loma Linda University. Years later, the tape was found in a Chicago thrift store.   

This is amazing documentary evidence of an Adventist family -- mother, father and daughter -- struggling for money, spiritual meaning, and emotional connection. I found the mix of religious quest, marriage issues and plodding self-discovery the wife fascinating. Among this raw confusion of human discomfort, desire, and dubious humor, this provokes questions about how we read our spiritual state through our biological relationships.

Like Sharon's visual representation in the post below, this auditory map marks a very personal -- and "presently true" for them -- landscape of Adventism. Also, there is a reference to a "Carl" Hamel, if anyone knows more on that story, please share. 

Accidental Documentaries: Act One. Berrien Springs, Michigan, Circa 1967.

A Midwestern family records a "letter on tape" to their son, who is in medical school in California. Three decades later, the recording somehow ends up in a thrift store. The tape gives a complicated portrait of what goes on among the family members. Mother wishes that Father were more religious. Daughter is miffed because Dad won't help her solve her financial problems. Dad tells corny jokes, talks enthusiastically about machines and extrusions and drills used for the family business run from the basement—a business everyone else in the family resents. And after the old tape ends, Ira interviews the son they were sending these to, Arthur Davis, who's now a doctor in California. (26 minutes)

Listen here.

Scroll down a bit and click on the third button underneath the photo, titled "Full Episode."

Art: Spiritual Journey Through Art - Part 2

By Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson

Choosing a Direction: Mapping the Journey 

“The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving.”
—Oliver Wendell Holmes 

Last week, we completed part 1 of our spiritual journey through art—taking survey of the landscape of our spiritual journeys. I hope the exercise was meaningful to you. In case you missed them, here are links to the intro and part 1.   

Now that we have recognized and documented the current landscape and season of our individual spiritual journeys, let’s take a look at the big picture. Where did your spiritual journey begin? Where have you been since then in your quest? Where do you want to go? How do you get there? What are the obstacles in the way? What else lies along the path in this journey? 

Consider these biblical stories of travel: 

The book of Exodus tells the story of the Israelites wandering through the wilderness for forty years—from slavery to the land of milk and honey. 

In Genesis 6-8, Noah and his family travel through torrential rains and heaving waters for forty days and forty nights before the ark came to rest.   

Genesis 12-25 tells of Abraham’s journey through family drama, famine, doubt, and faith to find “the land I will show you” as God put it.   

In the New Testament, the apostle Paul travels extensively as a missionary, enduring persecution and imprisonment.   

I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.  ~Lillian Smith 

Travel isn’t always a physical act. Here are few familiar biblical metaphors that come to mind:   

“Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of evil. Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn away from it and pass on.” (Proverbs 4:14-15)   

“Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it. (Matthew 7:13) 

“Good and upright is the Lord; therefore He teaches sinners in the way. The humble He guides in justice, and the humble He teaches His way. All the paths of the LORD are mercy and truth, to such as keep His covenant and His testimonies.” (Psalm 25:8-10) 

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105) 

“‘Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.’ They immediately left their nets and followed him.” (Mark 1:17, 18) 

1. Ponder the path of your spiritual journey on a map. If it’s helpful, jot down brief answers to the following questions before you start drawing.   

Are you journeying along a well-traveled highway or a lonely mountain road? 

What is the pattern of your spiritual road? Straightforward from point A to point B? Winding and circuitous?   

At what pace do you travel? Is arriving most important to you? Or do you prefer to meander along the scenic route? Have you gone in circles?   

Are you following a set of directions or are you seeing where the journey will take you? 

What landmarks mark your spiritual path? Baptism? Life landmarks like marriage, divorce, deaths, births?   

What’s your destination? Heaven? Perfection? Spiritual peace? Grace?   

Have there been times when the path was unclear to you, but in hindsight, you see clearly that a divine hand was leading you?   

2. Consider common elements used in map-making and how they’re relevant to the map of your spiritual journey.   

Are there boundaries—religious, cultural, geographic, or otherwise—on your map? Have you crossed any of these boundaries? Who created these boundaries?   

What physical features appear on the map of your spiritual journey? Railroads? Foot trails? Bodies of water? Caves? Glaciers? What do these features represent? Does a lake represent danger? Does a river present a source of knowledge? To you, is a cave a mine of hidden wealth or a treacherous risk? Is there an area marked “Danger! Do not enter!”?   

Where is your spiritual home on your map? Is it a physical place? A doctrine? The Adventist church? Have you found it yet, or are you still looking?   

3. Create a map that represents your spiritual journey.   

Your map can be as literal or symbolic as you choose. It can be detailed like a topographer’s map or as simple as a child’s drawing. Consider where you’ve come from, where you are now, and where you’re headed in this map.   

Here’s my map. (I’m drawing left-handed again, and it’s really hard to write small! Really, I promise my handwriting is usually much more legible.)

My map is vertical, because I envision life as a vertical growth pattern—at least ideally, that’s the way it should be. It’s fairly chronological. I was born SDA and fairly sheltered, which is symbolized by the stone walls at the bottom of the map. My baptism, depicted as a bridge over a river in Japan, is a transition of sorts into an individual spiritual life. But there is a sign early on that warns, “Not well-traveled!” And indeed, my individual spiritual journey thus far has not been on the main highway of Adventism. Chaim Potok’s My Name is Asher Lev introduced me to the complexity and struggle of a creative spiritual life. My spiritual path in college bypassed the prescribed “religious” circle, but it was moving straight forward. During my year in France, I found my own faith. Not too long ago, there were the white water rapids of a long illness and church turmoil, but a life raft of love and grace carried me across. And then, the revelation: the “gondola of grace!” Imagine: it’s been here all along. I wish I had known. I wish more people knew!   

The pattern I see in my map (though probably not clear from my scribbled drawing) is that many of the milestones in my spiritual journey have been moments of complication—of an integration of my spiritual beliefs into the expansive and complicated world in which we live. I believe the trend in my spiritual journey is away from a separation of the secular and the spiritual and toward a holistic life. On another level, I’ve been steadily moving away from boundaries and theories to something similar to the Dalai Lama’s statement, “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”   

What does your map say about you? Do you notice any patterns in your spiritual life? This exercise is not just about seeing the big picture of our spiritual journeys. It’s also about forging new paths toward a thriving spiritual maturity. We can’t change where we’ve been on our spiritual journeys. That’s part of the terrain we’ve covered, part of our history. But what about the journey to come? Each day, we’re charting the map of our individual spiritual journeys through the choices we make—but not alone. The Prophet Isaiah wrote, “The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your soul in drought, and strengthen your bones; you shall be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” (Isaiah 58:11) “For this is God, our God forever and ever; He will be our guide even to death,” David reminds us (Psalm 48:14). 

Are you participating in this art journey? If so, please leave a comment and let me know. I'd love to hear if it was a meaningful experience for you and what you may have learned from the activity.

As always, if you’re brave enough to share your creations with the world, scan them in and email them to me (signed or anonymously) at sharon@sharonfujimoto-johnson.com along with a brief description of your artwork. I’ll see about putting them up on the blog.   

Next week’s activity is “Moving Forward: Packing for the Journey.”   

Bloggin' the 28: Lord's Supper

Continuing our summer Bloggin' the 28 project, Houston International church pastor Bill Cork applies fundamental belief number 16: Lord's Supper to contemporary Adventist life.

He quotes:

In washing the feet of His disciples, Christ gave evidence that He would do any service, however humble, that would make them heirs with Him of the eternal wealth of heaven’s treasure. His disciples, in performing the same rite, pledge themselves in like manner to serve their brethren. Whenever this ordinance is rightly celebrated, the children of God are brought into a holy relationship, to help and bless each other. They covenant that the life shall be given to unselfish ministry. And this, not only for one another. Their field of labor is as wide as their Master’s was. The world is full of those who need our ministry. The poor, the helpless, the ignorant, are on every hand. Those who have communed with Christ in the upper chamber will go forth to minister as He did. (Ellen G. White, Desire of Ages, p. 651)

And adds:

Early Adventists had a fervent hope in the soon return of Christ, but didn’t neglect engagement with the world. They were involved in various movements of social reform: abolitionism, health reform, temperance. They reached out in missions to the frontiers and corners of America and to the South Pacific. I think our outward vision will become more clear as we lower our eyes to wash the feet of our brothers and sisters, and as we open our arms–and our hearts–to all who hunger and thirst.

Read and comment here.

A local Sabbath prayer

Sent over by Bonnie Dwyer, editor of Spectrum Magazine

Prayer for Justice for the Poorest of the Poor
By Rev. David Thompson of Westminister Presbyterian Church, Sacramento, California

Our loving God of us all, we are haunted by an ideal life because we all have within us the beginning and the possibility of it.

We have come here today to pray for the hearts and minds of our County Supervisors. We have come to pray for the preservation of legislation that 15% of all new development have units for people at the lower ranges of the income spectrum. We pray for our supervisors that if it is not their intent, that it will become their intent to advocate with developers for the poorest of the poor.

O God with just a basic apartment in the downtown going for high prices, our working poor are so hard pressed to make ends meet pay check to pay check. They often don't have health care, yet they sicken as others do. They need to eat, to be clothed and to have a life, as others do. And so they need advocates. They need to be a part of the process of decision making that affects them so deeply. They need an affordable place to live. And we in Sacramento and the County need our Supervisors to represent us and the core values of America, with demonstrations of fairness, inclusion and clear visions with a priority for the poor.

Today we presume our Supervisors' basic willingness to do the right thing for justice. We give them the presumption of our trust. May we and they, at the end of our lives, be able to approach You with straight eyes, knowing that we have done justice, done the deeds of mercy and walked humbly with our God. With this legislation as a level playing field, may the developers enjoy a reasonable profit and be proud of themselves for doing the right thing by the poor. May they showcase the affordable units with pride of achievement.

May the County and City of Sacramento be models for affordable housing in this great nation. May we in this amazing city have done with small thoughts. . . These things we pray in the name of justice and fairness for all.

Hear our prayer,  Amen

Inside the Iraq "surge"

By Alexander Carpenter

"Nearly 60 percent of readers who participated in a recent Military.com poll said the United States should withdraw its troops from Iraq now or by the end of 2008.  More than 40 percent of the respondents agreed the pullout should begin immediately because 'we're wasting lives and resources there.'"

Here's some currently serving troops in their words in some of the best reporting I've seen on the Iraq disaster.

Earlier this week, ABC News cut and used some of this footage from the brilliant journalists of journeymanpictures. They describe themselves as "London's leading independent distributor of topical news features, documentaries and footage. We're like a video encyclopedia of the world."

As calls grow for the White House to 'reverse the surge', the experiences of soldiers in Iraq is driving the anti-war movement. In an unprecedented insight into the dangers they face, these journalists spent two months on patrol with Apache Co.

Bloggin' the 28: Gender Inequality Is a Barrier to Unity in the Body of Christ

Continuing our summer Bloggin' the 28 project, Claremont Graduate School of Theology doctoral student and Adventist Gender Justice blogger Trisha Famisaran applies fundamental belief number 14: Unity in the Body of Christ to contemporary Adventist life.

By Trisha Famisaran

. . .the issue of gender inequality creates ecclesiological problems for the idea that the body of Christ really “demonstrates the reality of God’s eternal kingdom;” albeit affirming the “now and not yet” character of redemption and the restoration of fragile relationships. H. Richard Niebuhr suggests that one of the most powerful aspects of the redemptive work of Jesus is his historical record of and exhortation to metanoia, a change in consciousness that leads to ethical action. Leonardo Boff, a liberation theologian from Brazil, notes the character of communal learning and adjustment to social circumstances that are (should be?) descriptive of the church and demonstrate the lasting influence of the Holy Spirit to encourage “ecclesial consciousness.” With that understanding, I am convinced that the “consciousness” of the church includes intentional sensitivity to social concerns that were once considered beyond the scope of orthodox theological agendas and institutional responsibility. Sexism, racism, economic inequality, and violent political division certainly effect unity in the body of Christ and foster disregard for the radical acts of Jesus that the gospels attest to. Scripture does not necessarily address each specific issue, but the spirit of communal love that acts beyond social divisions and minister to the needs of the disadvantaged is clearly present.

Read and comment on the whole post here.

Who controls the gates of heaven?

By James Coffin     (Originally published in the Orlando Sentinel.)

   I need a change of job title. That's the pope's idea, not mine. At least that's what I deduced from an article in last week's Sentinel.

   You see, I call myself a church pastor. But according to Pope Benedict XVI, I shouldn't  because I'm not even a church member. Not a true church, anyway. He says there's only one of those  the Roman Catholic Church.

   Well, he might grant a little latitude. I mean, Orthodox communions are kind of quasi-church knock-offs  church-lite, so to speak. But all those Protestant groups? They're just that: groups. And non-Christians? Let's not even go there.

   "It's no big deal," you say in a patronizing tone. "Let the pope make all the pronouncements he wants. We're still going to do as we please." But it's not quite that simple.

   You see, Pope Benedict also maintains that the only door to salvation is through the one true church. In short, if you're not Catholic, you're hell-bound.

   Needless to say, Protestants aren't comfortable with such a viewpoint. And quite a few Catholics also find it troublesome. It just doesn't mesh with the openness we've come to appreciate in our postmodern society. What arrogance, we say, for any spiritual group to claim to have the management contract for the gate to heaven.

   And, we wonder, just how do the Catholics think they're going to retain adherents  let alone gain new ones  with such archaic thinking.

   But not so fast.

   Suppose momentarily that the pope is right. Suppose the Roman Catholic Church is indeed the only way to salvation. Shouldn't we be grateful that he's so outspoken? Wouldn't we want every Catholic to shout this fact from the housetops? I mean, we're talking eternity in paradise versus hellfire. Would we really want someone to soft-pedal such crucial information just because it wasn't politically correct?

   As a Protestant, I find myself at odds with Catholics over quite a few issues. But I have to admire any organization that isn't always holding up a finger to see which way the wind of political correctness happens to be blowing. Catholic dogmatism isn't all bad. But that doesn't mean I buy into their theology.

   Purporting to possess the only gate into heaven is no small claim. With the human longing for eternal life and the fear of eternal punishment so intense, such theology has immeasurable potential for abuse, whether the claim is made by Catholics or any other faith system.

   A great principle of Protestantism is the priesthood of all believers. Salvation doesn't come through one's church affiliation but through one's personal relationship with God. Jesus said, "Whoever comes to me I will never drive away."And lest his listeners assume a monopoly on that promise, he later reminded them: "I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen."

James N. Coffin is the senior pastor of the Markham Woods Church of Seventh-day Adventists in Longwood.

The Country by Billy Collins

By Alexander Carpenter

Billy Collins, former US Poet Laureate and one of America's best-selling poets, reads his poem "The Country" with animation by Brady Baltezor of Radium.

I wondered about you
when you told me never to leave
a box of wooden, strike-anywhere matches
lying around the house because the mice

might get into them and start a fire.
But your face was absolutely straight
when you twisted the lid down on the round tin
where the matches, you said, are always stowed.

Who could sleep that night?
Who could whisk away the thought
of the one unlikely mouse
padding along a cold water pipe

behind the floral wallpaper
gripping a single wooden match
between the needles of his teeth?
Who could not see him rounding a corner,

the blue tip scratching against a rough-hewn beam,
the sudden flare, and the creature
for one bright, shining moment
suddenly thrust ahead of his time -

now a fire-starter, now a torchbearer
in a forgotten ritual, little brown druid
illuminating some ancient night.
Who could fail to notice,

lit up in the blazing insulation,
the tiny looks of wonderment on the faces of his fellow mice, onetime inhabitants
of what once was your house in the country?

Art: Spiritual Journey Through Art - Part 1

By Sharon Fujimoto-Johnson

“The soul never thinks without a picture.
—Aristotle

Last week, I invited you to embrace your identity as creative being, made in the image of the Master Artist and to join me in a six-week exploration of spiritual journey through art. Over the next six weeks, we’ll contemplate symbols and metaphors of spiritual journey through simple art activities. Rest assured—you don’t have to be an artist or even artistic to participate. In this journey, an open-mind and sincere effort will be infinitely more valuable than artistic talent. Really. In case you missed it, here's a link to the intro.

“Dare to err and to dream. Deep meaning often lies in childish play.”
—Johann Friedrich Von Schiller

I’ve prepared these activities for Sabbath afternoon enjoyment by one or by many, but chances are, you’ll feel compelled to share what you’ve created, so consider inviting your significant other, a good friend, your kids or grandkids to join the journey too. After you’ve created your individual sketches, have a show-and-tell to share what you’ve learned.

Each week, we’ll focus on one aspect of the spiritual quest:
1.    Survey: Observing the Land and Its Seasons
2.    Direction: Mapping the Journey
3.    Movement: Packing for the Journey
4.    Traveling: Living on the Road
5.    Discovery: Staking My Claim
6.    Identity: Owning My Spiritual Territory

What you need:
-a pen, pencil, a box of crayons, colored markers, tube of toothpaste or whatever you want to draw with. (If you’re absolutely terrified of drawing utensils, you may take a pair of scissors to pictures in magazines and catalogs. But I encourage you to just try scribbling and see what happens. )
-a piece of paper, the back of a napkin, last week’s church bulletin, or anything else you can draw on
-an open, reflective mind

Ready? Here we go, dear readers.

Part 1. The Survey: Observing the Land and Its Seasons

“We must accept life for what it actually is—a challenge . . .
without which we should never know of what stuff
we are made, or grow to our full stature.”
— Ida R. Wylie

This week, we take survey of the spiritual land in which we find ourselves and recognize what season it is in our individual spiritual journeys. Where do you find yourself today? What is the terrain of your spiritual life? The climate? The season? Is it a scorching Nevada desert in the dead of summer? A Southeast Asian monsoon? A beautiful early spring in the countryside? What are the blessing and challenges of the spiritual place and season you find yourself in? Consider the following Bible verses that use metaphors of place and season:

“He has fenced up my way, so that I cannot pass; And He has set darkness in my paths…. My hope He has uprooted like a tree.” (Job 19:8, 10)

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul….” (Psalm 23: 1-2)

“For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth: The time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.” (Song of Solomon 2:11-13)

“Oh, that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people.” (Jeremiah 9:18)

“Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever.” (Psalm 125:1)

1. Contemplate the symbols and metaphors of place and what they mean to your spiritual journey.

• Does your spiritual life feel like a climb up a steep and rocky terrain right about now?
• Or have you recently come through a treacherous valley to those green pastures of Psalm 23?
• Perhaps you find yourself at the edge of the Grand Canyon—at the brink of both possibility and danger.
• Or perhaps you are in the safe and familiar front yard of your childhood home.

Where are you in your spiritual life? Choose a place that represents where you see yourself right now in your spiritual journey. Visualize its terrain and what it signifies about your spiritual journey.

2. Contemplate the symbols of climates and seasons and what they represent in your spiritual journey.

• Is it springtime in your spiritual life? Is the new grass a vibrant, thriving green? What is sprouting and coming to life? What are the flowers in bloom, and what do they represent? Is it raining? Flooding?
• Is it summer in your spiritual life? If so, is it a dry summer or a humid tropical season? Is the sun beating down on you mercilessly and drying up the ground? Or is it gently warming the terrain of your soul?
• Is it autumn in your spiritual life? If so, what is coming to harvest? Are the leaves turning brilliant colors? Are the leaves falling away and decaying? What do they represent?
• Is it winter in your spiritual life? What lies dormant? Is something at rest this season so that it can come to life in the spring? Is it biting cold? Crisp and clean? Is a sheet of snow covering a muddy landscape?

Choose a season that represents the climate of your spiritual terrain. Visualize symbols that represent that season for you. Those symbols could be raindrops, flower petals, falling leaves, snowflakes, weeds, or anything else that’s meaningful to you.

“We see the brightness of a new page where everything yet can happen.”
—Maria Rilke Rainer

3. Pick up those drawing utensils and that piece of paper now. Scribble something that represents the landscape and season you’re experiencing in your spiritual life.

It doesn’t have to look like a masterpiece, but it ought to be honest. The process of discovery is significantly more important than the end result. In this exercise, you’re documenting where you see yourself today in your spiritual journey, and this act, I anticipate, will be revealing. Though it’s a simple act, putting pen to paper in this way forces us to walk right through the walls of our comfort zone. It reveals where we have perhaps been blind.

David wrote, “Behold, You desire truth in the inward parts, and in the hidden part You will make me to know wisdom.” (Psalm 51:6) In the moments when you hold that pen in your hands and are drawing your spiritual landscape and climate, you are facing “truth in the inward parts.” There’s no turning away from it, as your hands, eyes, mind, and heart engage in putting pen to paper.

I did this exercise with a group of friends a few summers back, and at the time, I made a collage of a tropical island and palm tree with a thought bubble that said, “Vacation doesn’t last forever; the real world and responsibilities await. I must go home soon.” I chose that landscape, because it represented how easy it is to become lazy in summer. I felt I needed to be more responsible and intentional in my spirituality rather than coasting along.

By contrast, one friend drew a stark winter landscape depicting a mountain, snow, and two lone flowers representing her significant other and herself. “I feel we’re coming through a long, cold winter, with only the slightest bit of hope of spring,” she said. “His flower is a bit higher on the mountain, because he’s ahead of me.”

This is the drawing I did just recently. (By the way, I’m drawing left-handed even though I’m right-handed, because I didn’t want to have any perceived advantage as someone who has dabbled in art all her life.)

In this drawing, I’m standing on a mountain after having made a treacherous climb. The truth is, after the tropical summer of my drawing several years ago, I encountered the mountain of prolonged illness, the near-disintegration of the church I’d called home for seven years, transition to a new home church—all of which was trying on my spiritual life. I chose to sketch the skies in a colorful blue though, because throughout this treacherous climb, God’s grace and the compassion of those who love me were evident and always surrounding me. I feel like I’ve come over the top of that mountain now, and I’m looking ahead to where I want to go. I’ve come full circle through the seasons, and it’s summer again—but I’m not on vacation.

Perhaps you’ve come to a place of peaceful respite in your spiritual life, and recognizing this brings you to gratitude. Perhaps you’ve been pretending that it’s a lush springtime in your spiritual life when in reality drought has set in. Or perhaps you’ve fallen into a canyon and are struggling to climb out. Wherever it is you find yourself, taking survey of the landscape is the first step to discovering where we want to go from here.

If you’re brave enough to share your creations with the world, scan them in and email them to me (signed or anonymously) at sharon@sharonfujimoto-johnson.com along with a brief description of your artwork. I’ll see about putting them up on the blog.

Next week’s activity is “Choosing a Direction: Mapping the Journey.”

Bloggin' the 28: Millennium And The End of Sin : New Creations As Agents of the Kingdom

By Alexander Carpenter

Claremont doctoral candidate Ed Guzman writes:

No more pain,suffering, death; things made new (REv. 21:5)
I find great comfort in the Adventist’s church historic mission to ‘make [hu]man whole.’ Imperfect, finite, and as flawed by the mistakes of a modernist genesis, the church has proven an unflinching commitment to bringing about the alleviation of pain, suffering and death. This is evidenced in our worldwide health network, international relief projects, and strong educational system. The Pauline new creation instantiates the promises of the future kingdom in their daily actions as a citizen of this world. And in this respect, the church has forged ahead as a exemplar of God’s kingdom in the now.

Our church has traditionally shied away from involvement in the worldly power structures that effect all peoples. Perhaps the Pauline exception to power structures has biblical merit. Yet, as new creations that instantiate the kingdom the reticence of institutional (Adventist) activism in this world does not preempt involvement at a grass-roots level. After all, isn’t the kingdom boundless, unfettered by the parameters of institutional interests

Read it all at his blog, Substance and Shadows. And comment there too.

Now there's a great idea for our good pastors

By Alexander Carpenter

Now there's a conference president who cares about the good things in life, such as his pastors.

Adventist News Network's Elizabeth Lechleitner writes:

At least one conference in the Seventh-day Adventist Church's North American region has concluded that frazzled pastors don't make for successful ministry. That conference, spanning the U.S. states of Iowa and Missouri, is encouraging pastors to trim their sometimes 80-hour workweeks to a saner 45 to 55 hours.

[snip]

The region is inviting pastors to reprioritize their lives and recast their roles within the church. "The day of working an 80-hour week must come to an end. The church does not own us," [Dean] Coridan [president of the Iowa-Missouri conference] tells ministers during workshop sessions, which he has led in the region for 18 months.

 [snip]

Eddie Cabrera, who pastors three churches in the Iowa-Missouri region and has reined in his workweek for two years, will vouch for the value of 'No.' "I tell my church members, 'Don't call me on Sunday to ask how many Sabbath school quarterlies you should order,' Cabrera says. "If it's an emergency, yes, I'll be there, but otherwise Sunday is family day."

I appreciate the investment that Adventist pastors make in our church and the sacrifices they make for their beliefs and for the difficult task of mobilizing real live folks to care about the important things in life. Thanks pastors for all you do to better human life -- and props to those of you who take the time to blog. Sharing your convictions online is a part of the Christians witness, in my biased opinion. And all pastors get a special dispensation to say whatever the hell they want as fast as they want to type it on the Spectrum Blog. Now get some sleep.

Circumcision, Child Sacrifice, and Sanity vs. Psychosis in the Abraham Epic

By Alexander Carpenter

Good Spectrum Blog community member Arlyn sent me an email and suggested that this Sabbath School Commentary by John Berecz would provide some fuel for thought. I mean, what could possible be interesting about a Sabbath School Commentary entitled: Circumcision, Child Sacrifice, and Sanity vs. Psychosis in the Abraham Epic?

Note: This commentary contains explicit anatomical language.

The Abraham epic—like much of the Old Testament—is permeated with all sorts of intriguing stories and back stories. Violence, incest, racism, slavery, animal and child sacrifices, are but a few of the earthy ingredients that comprise these sagas. This is definitely R-rated stuff. If it were made into a movie that accurately depicted what James Dobson would not rate it family friendly. And the lesson quarterly committee apparently also struggles to sanitize the presentations so that this week’s lesson appears to focus on such PG 13 themes as infertility, lying, and the dangers of attempting to help God out with our own plans.

So, I’d like to stay closer to the script and talk about circumcision, child sacrifice, and sanity vs. psychosis. Let’s begin with circumcision.

I’ve always wondered why God chose clipping off some of the most sensitive parts of one’s anatomy as a sign of "faith." Couldn’t s/he have snipped an ear lobe or chopped off the end of a little finger between the nail bed and the first joint? Why pick on the penis?

Read more here.

And let us know what your learned opinion is.