A Monument And A Name

...do not let the eunuch say, "I am just a dry tree." For thus says the Lord: To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give, in my house and within my walls, a monument and a name [yad vashem] better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off.
Isaiah 56:3b-5

I know it doesn't sound very Christian, but the most moving experience I had during my recent trip to Israel was not the visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the boat ride on the Sea of Galilee, nor celebrating communion at the Garden Tomb.

Yad Vashem is Israel's "living memorial" to the Holocaust, containing an archive and research center as well as several monuments and the Holocaust History Museaum. The campus features beautiful archetecture, sculptures, and peacefull gardens with thousands of trees planted in memory of the Righteous Among the Nations (Gentiles who helped Jews during the Holocaust).

As I entered Yad Vashem memories of Holocaust sites slowed my steps--crowding onto a cattle-car at National Holocaust Memorial Museaum; treading grey dirt paths at Dachau, ashes of the dead; looking up at coffie can sized holes in the concrete 'shower' ceiling at Aushwitz; witnessing rooms filled with shoes, eyeglasses frames, and human hair. And still it seemed my consciousness could only bear a fraction of the evil that occurred. I descended toward the cave of the Children's Memorial and overheard a guide: "...Israelis have a saying: You can take the child out of the Holocaust, but you can't take the Holocaust out of the child..."

After the Mediteranian sun, the tunnel was pitch-black and then emptied a room filled with children. Their larger than life portraits sorounded me, and smiles filled the cavern. But the hall was deadly quiet, and the black and white pictures were placed not on a living room mantle but suspended in the midst of darkness. One of the kids reminded me of my son; it was time to move on.

The next hall was a starfield. the darkness interupted by stationary points of light, some larger, some smaller. I noticed that the closer lights were lamps, and the smaller lights were the same lamps reflecting off polished surfaces. The grotto contined an infinite matrix of flames.

Then I listened. A flat male voice was speaking at regular intervals. First a name, then an age, then a country. Repeat.

I was confronted with the scale of an evil filling every horizon of space and time. Each star represented an innocent child of Abraham snuffed out by a human powered killing machine. Each name, in this blackness deviod of all privious meaning attached to it, was a reminder that there would be another and then another, and after I left there would be thousands more.

At that point, I had to leave because the place was too overwhelming. The Children's Memorial was supposed to establish a monument and give a name to the innocent victims of the Holocaust, in reality it was a testament to the capacity of humanity to generate evil on a scale that surpasses our ability to reckon. Within those subterranian walls I had no memory of the children, only of the atrocity committed against them. We owe to the children's murderers even our ability to read their names, while the dead of other genocides remain anonymous.

But another thought had occurred to me as I contemplated the matrix of lights: This must be what it is like to see the memory of God. Each innocent life stored, suspended, resting, until the resurrection. Waiting for the moment when the God of justice will use his creative power to restore them to a perfect world where they can live out the life that was cut short, no longer in fear of suffering and death.

No human monument can do justice to the breadth of evil in this world nor its victims. No reading of names can bring back the life behind the name, nor transmit the person from one generation to another. Yad Vashem testified to me that humanity needs a Savior, a Savior big enough and yet close enough to embrace the whole of human suffering and redeem it to something better.

That was the most profound insight God gave me in Israel.

Open Letter To Berry Bussey

Barry Bussey
Director of Legislative Affairs
Seventh-day Adventist Church

Dear Mr. Bussey,

I had hoped to also send you this letter personally, but was unable to find your contact details. So now I trust the serendipitous mechanisms of the internet will deliver this communique.

First, I wish to commend you on your recent post at The Liberty Blog where you correctly identify waterboarding as torture. Like you, I see prophetic implications in the fact that my nation's highest elected and appointed officials approved these kinds of information gathering methods.

Second, I wish to inform you of an opportunity to walk the talk. On June 11, 2009 the National Religious Campaign Against Torture (NRCAT) is sponsoring an event in front of the White House during which leaders of national faith groups will ask President Obama to support a formal inquiry into how the U. S. government came to practice torture. While President Obama seems to be backing away from torture, an inquiry will help America put safeguards in place for when a 'Pharaoh who does not know Joseph' comes on the scene. As my church's representative on Capitol Hill, I request that you, along with as many other top-tier Adventist Church leaders as you can muster, be present to support this event.

"Torture is a moral issue"--this is the slogan of NRCAT. I believe that Adventists should join with them in asserting more specifically, Torture is a religious liberty issue. It has been well documented that U.S. officials went out of their way to offend the religious sensabilities of detainees (for example, Qu'ran desecration). This blatant disregard of religious conviction should not pass without response from the Adventist Church, and I believe calling for a full inquiery be the most redemptive of the available options.

Blessings to you in your unique ministry. I hope you enjoy your stay in my country as much as I have enjoyed yours.

Sincerely,

David Hamstra

My Theological Education Or Between Doubt And Certainty

Faith exists somewhere between and beyond doubt and certainty. If all you have is certainty, you have no need of faith. If all you have is doubt, you don't see the need for faith. Faith is what happens when you have reasons to doubt, reasons to be certain, and, in that situation, choose to trust.

Last year, a friend and I were reflecting on our theological educations. During our undergrad, we both attended the same school, Canadian University College, for four years--an experience that left us with more questions than answers. Later, as pastors, we both wrestled with those questions, finding answers to some and putting others on the shelf.

Now we are doing our Masters of Divinity at the flagship seminary of the Seventh-day Adventist church in Andrews University and having the very different experience of being provided with more answers than questions. In some ways this is frustrating, because we know when a professor is oversimplifying facts or minimizing the weaknesses of the traditional Adventist position. But in other ways it is liberating to discover that others have found the same answers we came up with or, better yet, to be given novel solutions to questions we had left unresolved.

Anselm said that theology is faith seeking understanding (fides quaerens intellectum). If this is true then the goal of theology must be to simultaneously explore doubt and sore up certainty. This, of course, is an impossible task. During my conversation with my friend I realized that institutions of theological education tend to favor one or the other.

I realize that it is not good PR to characterize my alma mater, Canadian University College, as a institution that offers a theological education promoting doubt. But remember, doubt is not the opposite of, but a prerequisite to faith, for where there is no reason to doubt, there is also no reason to have faith. In fact, doubt was just what I needed at that point in my Christian experience.

Fore example, I came out of high school believing that there were no major questions about the Bible that I could not answer, and that if a question about the Bible were to come up that I did not have the answer to, I would be able to look at the Bible and Ellen White's writings and find that answer with relative ease. In short, I had a high degree of certainty about the world, my life, and the way things ought to be, and as a result, I was not very open to God bringing anything new into my life. Questions, doubt, and uncertainty were what I needed to restore balance to my faith.

This stands in contrast to my experience prior to entering seminary. I invested a great deal of time during my ministry reading material by those who emphasize the doubt side of faith, who present me with more questions than answers. Confronting these questions is well and good, but faith requires a healthy level of certainty in order to function. And as a pastor, I need to have answers that prompt faith for those who are struggling with doubt in their spiritual life.

The mission of the MDiv program at Andrews University is to produce competant pastors, and what that means in the context of theological education is pastors who are certain of what they believe. One would expect the church's flagship seminary to be dedicated to promoting certainty, and there is definately a place for that, considering the significant doubts Adventist clergy and academics are known to harbor or even promote.

But consider the implications of pursuing certainty of belief as an absolute. David Koresh is an extreme example of what can happen when a religious leader's certainty leaves no room for doubt. A pastor who is big on certainty will find it difficult to practice humility or patience and may end up damaging their church with their rigidity and inflexability.

Perhaps it would be better if pastors left the seminary with some doubts intact. Because, for all the good certainty can do for a pastor, it is in realm of our doubts that God has room to grow us. I prefer to be more like Job, and less like his three friends.

As I look back on my admittedly incomplete theological education, I see a new reason for certainty in my faith. On my path God has provided my faith with just what I needed when I needed it. Doubt tells me to chalk it up to happenstance, but I choose to trust my creator to continue to guide my life.

And, I am glad that neither those institutions and individuals which promote doubt nor those which promote certainty are able to exclude the other from our church's system of theological education. I'm not saying a thousand theological flowers should bloom within Adventism, but the current institutional mix has been good healthy for me and others I've encountered. So maybe it's a good thing that we have the ATS and ASRS, but it's an even better thing that they're on speaking terms.

I'll sign of with one final thought for you to comment on: The opposite of faith is not doubt or certainty; it's disobedience.

Adventist Theological Seminary to Become Monastery: Students Form Religious Order

At the end of this semester, the Adventist Theological Seminary will officially close its doors and then reopen as the new St. Andrews’ Monastery. The change was prompted when the Seminary Student Form (SSF) voted to reorganize as a religious order. “We were basically already taking a vow of poverty when we came here,” explained SSF President Babe Korea. “And, as students, obedience is something we’re used to, so we said, ‘Why not add chastity?’”

When asked how the married students will cope with a vow of chastity, Mr. Korea replied that he is also married and is “looking forward to giving up carnal relations,” because in his opinion it will free up time to complete his required reading. Another student, Ms. Regena Upton-Single, hopes that taking a vow of chastity will help her focus more on her studies and less on finding a “soul-mate.” Campus Safety also approves of the vow, predicting that there will be fewer complaints of males loitering in areas frequented by nursing, education, and music students.

Dr. Henri Poutine, the Dean of the Seminary, expressed the faculty’s full support for the changes. “We believe that implementing a comprehensive rule of life will significantly help us to curb latent autodidactic tendencies in our students,” he said in a statement. Dr. Poutine noted that in keeping with the ancient tradition of religious hierarchy, “Do as I say; not as I do,” monastery policy will exempt faculty from “vows that interfere with inter-gender relations in the context of matrimony.”

According to Dr. Poutine, General Conference (GC) leadership is optimistic about the seminary’s new identity. In “off-the-record” comments, he told apokalupto that, “Ever since the Jesuits went all soft and social justice-y in the 70s and the economic crisis gutted the Illuminati, the GC has been looking for a way to exploit the current power vacuum in the global illicit influence structure. And they’re hoping our new monastery and religious order will be the basis of a secret society that can play with the big boys.”

Dr. Poutine refused to give further details except to say that a contest will be held to pick the SSF’s new name. The winning submission will have an “obvious idealistic or positive meaning,” but feature “mysterious or possibly even sinister undertones.” Other contest criteria, deadlines, and prizes have not yet been announced.

In Other News:
Church Throws All Spectrum Readers Out

Article: Our Paradox Of Hope

A version of the following essay appeared in this week's edition of Student Movement, the student newspaper of Andrews University.

Our Paradox of Hope
By David Hamstra

As John McCain’s swerving reaction to the subprime mortgage crisis gave America political whiplash, Barack Obama, who was behind in the polls, kept his cool and a steady hand on the wheel of his campaign. Today, political pundits attribute the President’s ultimate success not only to his ability to inspire massive crowds of devoted supporters but also to his steady response to that crisis, which won over skeptical swing voters. In his inaugural address Obama again tempered his soaring, inspirational rhetoric with a straightforward assessment of challenges we would prefer to ignore, combining enthusiasm with realism to produce a compelling message of hope.

I watched that speech live at the Howard Center, along with a capacity crowd of the Andrews community, and afterwards reflected on the difference between our new President’s address and the short program by which our student and faculty leadership introduced it. A prevailing current of unmitigated celebration flowed through the Howard—unmitigated, because our university leaders, apparently caught up in the emotion of the moment, did not combine enthusiasm with the challenging message of Scripture.

“Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help. When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish. Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God…” (Ps. 146:3-5, NRSV).

Hope is an eschatological word. Eschatology is the way a belief system explains the end of this era and the transition into a new (and presumably better) era. There are secular eschatologies, Hindu eschatologies, and Christian eschatologies; nearly every major belief system has at least one. Their purpose is usually to generate hope in those who believe.

President Obama’s message of hope is grounded in his optimistic belief that we have the ability to solve the great problems humanity faces. His hope is compatible with the humanist eschatology, which believes human societal and scientific development can usher in a new age of peace and prosperity. Obama’s message is also compatible with the mainline Christian eschatology of postmillennialism, which believes the spread of the gospel will promote human development and usher in a thousand years of peace and prosperity after which Christ will come and take us to heaven.

By contrast, the Adventist message of hope is grounded in exclusive trust in the ability of God to save us. We are prophetically pessimistic about the ability of humanity to bring about lasting solutions to the problems of peace and equality. Indeed, we can historically point out that powerful movements for social change often result in tyranny (such as the “Final Solution”). Adventists are therefore premillennialists; we believe that the second coming will result in destruction of the current, corrupted world, which must precede the restoration of the humanity to its original state.

In short, Adventists believe things will get worse before they get better, which is why the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama presented the Andrews community with a paradox of hope. On the one hand, how could we not rejoice in an event that symbolized the triumph of the civil rights movement? On the other, how could we celebrate a ceremony that alternatively located us farther away from the second coming than we had hoped or closer to a political unity that could bring about the end-time persecution we hope to delay? And feeling forced to choose between the two responses, our university leadership ran with the former.

This paradox is not unique to Adventists but a symptom of the major problem with premillennial eschatologies in general. They do not explain in an obvious way why Christians should fulfill the biblical mandates to make things better in this world. Why work to alleviate poverty when it is only going to get worse? Why unite with unbelievers to save the planet when it is just going to burn? Why waste time with civil rights when Heaven will heal our divisions?

Yet our pioneers, who believed the second coming was so close it could happen anytime, were involved in the great progressive causes of their day, including the abolitionist movement, and attracted some of the great progressive activists of their time, such as Sojourner Truth. I propose that to them the premillenial second coming was not an excuse to let society go to hell but rather Divine permission to bring heaven to society, because their imperfect efforts would soon be validated by radical and everlasting change. In this context, Adventists can whole-heartedly celebrate the election of an African-American to the presidency of the United States as a penultimate realization of the hope for racial equality, yet our joy must be tempered by the reality that our ultimate hope of perfect harmony in the human family awaits a fulfillment that transcends our faltering achievement.

In moments that call for heady optimism or hard-nosed realism, President Obama chooses to craft a creative balance. As he framed the presentation of Obama’s inaugural address to the Andrews community, President Andreasen spoke of the things we must learn from the next American president. I submit that Obama’s ability to lead by bringing together seemingly contradictory yet equally correct attitudes would be a good place to start.

Top Five: Things Obama Didn't Talk About

Yes, we did, and I include myself in that yes. I was one of the change voters; not that I think an Obama presidency is going to bring in the millennium, the age of Aquarius, or even "change the way business is done in Washington". But at the very least I felt it was necessary to remove the power of the executive from a political party that took our nation to war on a false casus beli.

Nevertheless I do have some reservations about President-elect Obama, and amidst the deserved congratulations for an excellent campaign and the excitement about electing the first African-American president, I feel it is necessary to express that my support of his agenda is not unqualified. While I disagree with Obama regarding the issues of homosexual marriage and abortion--issues for which, in my opinion, executive power matters less than legislative--I am more concerned about the issues he didn't talk about, or at least didn't communicate to me, during his campaign. It will be interesting to see how he addresses, sidesteps or exacerbates these problems.

Top Five Things Obama Didn't Talk About

1. How The Economy Will Impact His Promises
   
2. Signing Statements
3. Congress Shifting Its War Powers to the President
4. Illegal NSA Surveillance
5. Ending American Imperialism

Is there anything Obama didn't talk about that you hope he'll address? Maybe you're worried he won't? Let us know.

P.s. How do I update my spellchecker with the words "Barack" and "Obama"? "Hussein" is already there.

What Would Jesus Vote?

Jesus, of course, did not live in a liberal democracy, and therefore never cast his vote in an election or on a ballot proposition. But Christians across America will have the opportunity to do so tomorrow and may well wonder if Jesus would have them vote for anything beyond their own self interest. I believe that, although the Bible does not specifically address elections, it does communicate certain responsibilities God expects governments to care for. Based on these, I've identified three things Christians should consider in making their voting decisions.

A Christian vote is a vote for:

1. Freedom Of Conscience (Dan. 3, Rev. 13) - Issues: freedom of worship, civil liberties, torture, homosexual unions
   
2. Just Institutions That Protect Life And Property (Rom. 13:1-7, Amos 5:15, Matt. 22:21) - Issues: defense, peace, abortion, death penalty, handgun control, police, judges, budget, child protection
   
3. Care Of And Opportunity For The Disadvantaged (Lev. 19:9-10, Lev. 25) - Issues: welfare, health care, debt relief, environment, workers rights
   

These three may seem like obvious social goods, but a careful look at the issues may make certain voting decisions less clear to you. For example, voting on homosexual unions one way could threaten freedom of conscience by imposing traditional values on homosexuals, yet voting on the issue the other way could threaten freedom of conscience by imposing secular definitions of homosexual rights on religious organizations. And when voting for a candidate, there's always a gap between what they say they'll do, what that actually want to do, and their ability to implement their agenda or even govern effectively.

Yet this should not cause us to shy away from voting altogether (although actively abstaining may be the right thing to do). Jesus told a parable about a master who give his servants talents, and it was the one who took no risk with his talent that was condemned (Mat. 25:14-30). In democracies around the world God has given Christians the opportunity to vote, and they must thoughtfully consider how they will use that gift, not for their own self-interest, but to help God's "deacon" (Rom 13:4), the government, accomplish its God ordained task in this world.

Is Christ lord of your vote?