Fine Prints: July, 2005

The God of Due Process July 2

A Book of Rules or a Book of Insight July 9

In Defense of a Double Standard July 16

Boasting When Boasting Is Due July 23

A Time to Sing and a Time to . . . July 30

The God of Due Process

When the founding fathers of the United States were dreaming about what a nation could look like if it was started from scratch, they put fairness high on their list of essential characteristics. One important manifestation of fairness, they believed, was a principle called "due process."

One aspect of due process is the somewhat unique concept of "innocent until proven guilty." Due process says that everyone should get a fair hearing—even those we think are "as guilty as sin."

Those early disciples of due process believed that correct procedure is more important than guaranteed result. If lynch mobs routinely dealt with the accused, we could be assured that no guilty person would ever go free. But there would be a high probability that quite a few innocent people would pay with their life.

The founding fathers were so committed to correct procedure that they believed it preferable to have a few guilty people go free than to risk having the innocent face punishment. Right procedure, they reasoned, will generally yield a right outcome. Whereas short cuts will too often produce faulty results. In addition, they were concerned that things not only be fair but that they be seen to be fair. This set of values has been a cornerstone of U.S. jurisprudence.

But my purpose in writing isn’t to laud or lambaste the United States and its approach to things judicial. Rather, I want to point out that God also seems to be a stickler for due process. And only as we understand this does the history of His interaction with humanity really begin to make sense.

As a mind-dizzying act of love, God gave humans an amazing degree of autonomy—we call it freedom of choice. And He gave it so truly and so totally that we can actually rebel against Him—which Adam and Eve did in the Garden of Eden.

In terms of having the raw power, God could have just vaporized our first parents and started again. But He couldn’t do it and remain committed to due process. Justice must not only be done, it must be seen to be done.

The irony of due process in the context of what Adventists call the Great Controversy is that God is the accused. But in this case, the accused isn’t trying to clear His name for His own sake. Rather, it’s for the sake of the accusers.

Why? Because not only did God create us in His own image, but we take the raw materials He has given us and, in essence, create ourselves into the image of the God we perceive. Thus our concept of God has eternal, life-and-death implications.

So, despite that fact that it would seem a lot tidier if God had just brought this whole sad saga to a halt in Eden, or at any of the other seemingly natural exit points throughout history, He has to let things play themselves out totally. It’s all part of divine due process.

The one major difference between God’s due process and ours is that, in His, not only is the procedure guaranteed to be right, but so is the outcome.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

A Book of Rules or a Book of Insight

Do you sometimes get the idea when you read the New Testament that you’re reading about a totally different God from the one you encounter in the Old Testament?

Join the club. I wrestle with the same uncomfortable feelings.

When I come across the many off-with-their-heads commands attributed to God in, say, the books of Samuel, I find myself responding, "Whoa! Is the same God who inspired Jesus to say that ‘the meek shall inherit the earth’?"

When I read the rules laid down by Moses that require stoning for such infractions as picking up sticks on Sabbath, I say, "Now hold on. Did God change? Or did Moses have it wrong? Or have we got it wrong today?" And no matter which option I select, I feel slightly ill at ease.

And then when I hear the religious right making strident pronouncements about what’s acceptable and unacceptable, based on "the clear words of scripture," I feel even more uneasy. Because, I can’t argue against the fact that the words are there. But are they in keeping with the direction the Bible seems to be moving?

Is the Bible a compendium of unchanging, eternally applicable rules? If so, then how do we excuse our failure to execute incorrigible children today? Why haven’t we annihilated a lot of the residents of Cassadaga? Why aren’t we stoning adulterers—or at least clamoring for legislation to give us the right?

If the Bible is a book of unchanging, eternally applicable rules, why the clear change of emphasis between the bulk of the New Testament and the bulk of the Old Testament?

Clearly, the Bible writers viewed scripture—in its entirety—as spiritually instructive and beneficial. But are we to treat it as a book of rules or as a book of insight? Do all the rules, even those in the New Testament, apply directly today? Or does the Bible primarily show us how eternal principles were applied in a speciific cultural context?

For example, must women keep quiet in church today, waiting until they get home to ask their husband to explain things to them? What about that substantial group who don’t have a husband? Do they forever remain out of the loop?

Should we assume that slavery and polygamy are still acceptable—because the divine rule book never really addressed these issues? Or have we been justified in moving beyond the specific commands because of the broader insights we’ve gained from scripture? And if we’re justified in moving beyond the words of scripture with these matters, might we be justified in moving beyond in other matters?

I recognize that such an approach opens the door for colossal abuse. A rule-book approach to life is always easier. It doesn’t require any thinking. I either obey or disobey. Nothing more. Context becomes irrelevant.

But it also means that I’m ill-equipped to deal with any new situation that might arise that wasn’t included on my rule list. It means that, were the adulterous woman described in John 8 brought to me, I’d have no choice but say, "You’re right. The rule book says to kill her. So have at it."
Fortunately, Jesus seemed to have had a different concept of how to interpret scripture.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

In Defense of a Double Standard

Before you consign me to the demons or call for my head because of the title of this article, let me say a word or two in my own defense.

I submit that there are two kinds of double standard. In one, a person holds himself or herself to one standard and everyone else to another—a higher one. It’s what we call hypocrisy. And it’s despicable. Jesus had a fair bit to say about this form of double standard (see Matthew 23).

That’s not what I’m referring to.

There’s another kind of double standard that’s legitimate. It’s based on the biblical passage, "From the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked" (Luke 12:48).

So how does this concept play itself out in real life?

Let’s take the case of adults and children. A child may behave inappropriately because of ignorance or immaturity. But an adult, who has years of life experience, is expected to have a broader perspective and more mature powers of reasoning. Thus we have different behavioral expectations.

The same principle applies to our national behavior. The United States had the benefit of starting with a nearly clean slate. We didn’t have to change systems that had existed for centuries, with deeply entrenched power structures and social traditions.

Our founding fathers were fanatical in their fight for freedom and their opposition to oppression. The United States was a radical social experiment based on the premise that average citizens were capable of making wise choices about how their government should operate.

This radical experiment was predicated on the idea that everyone is endowed with certain unalienable rights. Such documents as the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution enshrine these lofty principles.

But we can’t boast about these blessings without recognizing that they place a higher obligation on us. We should expect to deliver a radically different standard of national behavior than would be found in some tin-pot, back-alley, two-bit struggling nation that has been wracked by corruption and intrigue for centuries.

The double-standard principle definitely applies when it comes to being Christians. The fact that we bear the name of Christ places us under an obligation to represent that name right.

This doesn’t mean that Christians will be perfect. As the Bible states, we’re all sinners; we all fall short of God’s ideal. But, at the very least, a Christian should be seeking to improve. While the church is a hospital for sinners and not a club for saints, it’s nevertheless a place where a better way of living is both promoted and pursued.

In our own denomination, the level of expectation is raised even higher. Not only do we wear the name of Christ, but we claim to have been called by God for a special task at a special time in earth’s history. As Seventh-day Adventists we call ourselves the "remnant church."

If that doesn’t call for a higher standard of corporate performance, what would?

I may not like the added obligations they place on me, but I need to acknowledge the legitimacy of at least some double standards.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Boasting When Boasting Is Due

In his letter to Philemon (verse 4), the Apostle Paul says to his friend, "I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, because I hear about your faith in the Lord and your love for all the saints."

I think I understand how Paul felt—because I too give thanks to God when I think about the Markham Woods congregation. And recently I was reminded of just how blessed I am.

In late June, I went to Andrews University in Michigan to a church-planting conference. It’s the third year running that I’ve gone as a presenter, sharing with other pastors and lay people some of what I’ve learned along the way. I can outline (with the certainty that comes only from experience) a lot of things not to do. And there are even a few things that I can say with certainty should be done.

One of the things that really blows away the listeners in my seminars is our congregation’s experiment of no longer charging for any of the church’s social/recreational activities, whether for youth, children or the church as a whole. I must say, when I stop and think about it, it’s quite amazing. At least $30,000 worth of activities that we used to charge for are now covered by the Church Budget—and giving has never been better.

It’s really impressive. As I’ve enumerated repeatedly, it saves the hassle of collecting money from people. It means that the "have nots" are never excluded or embarrassed. It means that the giving is more efficient—because gifts are tax-deductible.

But what really boggles the minds of those I talk to is that our congregation doesn’t jump onto the freeloader bandwagon. People find it unfathomable that Markham Woods members give even though they don’t have to. Repeatedly people say, "That would never work in our congregation because people would just take advantage of the "freebie" and not contribute."

Do you see why I’m tempted to boast?

My listeners find it hard to believe that such a congregation exists. Particularly when I tell them how willing the church is to finance ministries for children and youth. And when I describe the tranquility of our board meetings, they turn green with envy as it dawns on them that I’m the sole beneficiary of such phenomenal blessings! Believe it or not, I actually understate just to minimize their pain!

As I interact with the Markham Woods congregation every week, I take it all for granted. But when I get out and about and listen to all the horror stories of what goes on elsewhere, I ask, "Who am I that I should be so blessed?"

Now I don’t want you as a congregation to get the collective big-head. But there’s a time for everything, we’re told in Ecclesiastes. And certainly there’s a time for boasting. OK, we’ll call it affirming, expressing appreciation, congratulations—or maybe just acknowledging the facts!

God has blessed you. You, in turn, have blessed each other, the community and me. So it seems only appropriate that I should say humbly, sincerely and gratefully: You’re the best.

Experience has proved it.

Thanks.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

A Time to Sing and a Time to . . .

At the recent General Conference Session in St. Louis, Missouri, the spirit of singing broke out repeatedly in an unusual venue.

After each evening meeting, large crowds of Seventh-day Adventists boarded trains and made their way to their respective hotels, which were sometimes as much as half an hour away.

Having been inspired by the night’s sermon and the reports of Adventist activities around the world, and being in the company of so many fellow church members, it seemed only natural to form an impromptu choir as they rode along. They were exuberant and clearly excited about their faith and this once-every-five-years chance for international fellowship.

To in any way question the advisability of such spontaneous outbursts probably makes me seem like Ebenezer Scrooge reincarnated. Yet I’m not sure it was the best thing to do.

Our denomination had paid big money to procure use of the convention center (where various church entities set up exhibits and booths) and the indoor football stadium (where the major meetings and business sessions were conducted). In those venues, we were free to celebrate to our heart’s content.

The train, however, may have been a different matter.

I don’t know about you, but my blood pressure rises when I go to a park or the beach, hoping to enjoy a respite from life’s artificialities—only to have my ears assaulted by someone’s portable "boombox." The choice of music, though a factor in my negative reaction, is only part of the problem. The very presence of the sound is offensive in and of itself.

The Adventists singing on the Metrolink in St. Louis may have had a similar impact on some. Not only might those of other faith systems have found our actions an invasion of public space with a religious message they didn’t wish to hear, but there may have been more passengers than we would assume even among committed churchgoers who were hoping for a quiet, reflective ride home after a hard day at the office.

Those with objections to the singing would probably be in the minority. Without doubt, there were many who were intrigued by such an assortment of humanity combining their voices in an act of spiritual solidarity. And the glass and steel of the train cars certainly did make for good acoustics.

But are we justified in just brushing aside the concerns of those who found our singing out of place? Do we have the right to invade the space of others just because it makes us feel good? I don’t think so.

One of the pitfalls to which we as Christians—Adventists don’t have a monopoly here—too often succumb is that we focus so exclusively on the positive comments we receive about something we’ve done that we fail to appreciate that we may have also unnecessarily alienated others.

Our denomination has long defended the right of everyone to practice religion as they choose. But we need to equally safeguard the rights of those who desire to have nothing at all to do with religion.

I’m not sure we achieved that goal in St. Louis.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor