In those other denominations, the phenomenon is often even more pronounced—in part because Christmas and Easter play such a high-profile role in their spiritual-celebration calendar. But whatever our denominational affiliation, we tend to judge these "occasional Christians" as hypocrites and slackers.

We chafe at the fact that these people turn up to celebrate only the big events; we’d prefer to have them there all the time. We want them to be benefiting from our congregational routine. We want them to be contributing regularly to our congregation with their time, talent and presence. We want them to do things our way.

But—now bear with me for a moment before calling for my head to be lopped off—these twice-yearly attenders may actually be highlighting a spiritual truth that needs to be highlighted. (I’m not saying there might not be better ways to highlight it; I’m just saying that they have a couple of concepts right.)

You see, what we celebrate at Christmas and Easter are two of the greatest events in the entire history of the world. Think about it. The Creator of this world tunes in so completely to His needy children that He comes to be one with us—literally. He comes to show us how humans should live and to assure us that salvation is readily available—because we have a heavenly Father who loves us just as immeasurably as Jesus does.

To put it bluntly, the idea of God becoming a human is as phenomenal and wonderful a story as we’ll ever encounter. The kind of connection between heaven and earth that the story illustrates is mind-boggling. So if we’re going to ensure that we’re at church to celebrate something really special each year, what could be more special? Of all times to guarantee attendance, Christmas would have to be one of them.

And what we celebrate at Easter is no less dramatic. Christ died that we might live. It was the ultimate display of love. His death was the antidote to the sin problem. But Christ wasn’t held captive by the grave. He rose. We serve a living God. And He’s coming back to take us to be with Him for eternity.
Again, if for some reason we can come only one or two times a year, what better time than to celebrate the power of God that raised Jesus and that gives each of us the certainty that we too can live again, beyond the grave?

Be assured, I’m not lobbying for people to come to church only twice a year. I definitely would like to see them there more regularly. What I am lobbying for is that we reflect upon the importance of the events we celebrate at those times of the year that we refer to as Christmas and Easter.
Instead of condemning Christmas-and-Easter Christians, let’s make sure that we understand what they understand—that these events were stupendous. Then let’s make sure we continue to celebrate these great acts of God all year long.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Back in the late 1970s, I was youth pastor at the Avondale Memorial Church in Cooranbong, New South Wales, Australia. The church was situated just outside the entrance to Avondale College. Across the street was a retirement village that consisted of full-care nursing, semi-assisted living and apartments for independent living.

Because petrol (gasoline) was expensive, the retirement facility had its own underground tank and pump so it could sell discounted petrol to the residents who still drove. As a courtesy, they also let the local pastors buy petrol there.

Living at the retirement community were some highly interesting characters of great age. Two or three of them could remember Ellen White when she lived in Cooranbong. (Her former home, Sunnyside, was only a couple of blocks from where we lived.) Others were pioneer missionaries to some of the remotest areas of the South Pacific. Some even had schools or other institutions named after them.

Somehow, one wizened little man who was well into his 80s, Paul Sibley, always appeared whenever I stopped to get petrol. And he always had a story to tell. Actually, he always had several stories to tell. And, without fail, they were fascinating.

Paul sported a beard that would have made Santa Claus proud. He was small and wiry. In fact, his stature had made him a natural as a racehorse jockey. In his early years he’d ridden in many a bush-league horse race. And he’d pursued other unusual vocations. Riding a bicycle and carrying only a shovel, he’d traversed much of western New South Wales digging wells. Only once, he claimed, had his "witching" failed to find water.

Since I had to keep one hand on the handle of the petrol nozzle, I couldn’t easily move away when Paul appeared. And invariably before I could get the tank filled, he had quite naturally, in the course of his story, reached out and put a hand on my arm, which resulted in his getting a gentle grip on my elbow. After that, any hint that I might leave resulted in a tightening of his grip. If I seemed particularly intent on escape, the grip could be firm indeed!

Paul had had a brother named David Sibley, who’d risen through the ranks of the church as a pastor, evangelist and administrator. Paul was justly proud of David’s accomplishments. David, also a small man, had worked as a blacksmith out in Broken Hill, which is probably Australia’s greatest single source of iron ore. Shoeing draft horses was heavy work. And David was surprisingly strong for his small size. At least that’s how Paul described him.

So when David felt the call to ministry, he brought an interesting life history with him. Next week I’ll share just how interesting!

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Upon graduation, he was sent to New Zealand to work with evangelist J.W. Kent, who was roughly David’s own age but had entered ministry a few years earlier. Since David was single, the Conference suggested that he board in the Kents’ home.

I know all of this because David’s brother Paul told me the story while I filled my tank with petrol (gasoline) at the Adventist retirement village across the street from Avondale Memorial Church (in Australia), where I was youth pastor back in the late 1970s.

In Australian Adventism, the name Kent is perhaps the most common in the rolls of Adventist ministers. As I remember the Kents’ story, a man with five sons was converted early during the Adventist Church’s foray into Australia. Not only did Mr. Kent become a pastor, so did his brother and all of his five sons, if I remember correctly. Not to mention a lot of grandsons and great-grandsons.

One night after an evangelistic meeting, David told J.W. that he appreciated the sermon but disagreed on one point. J.W. said he wasn’t interested in hearing about it. David didn’t appreciate getting the brush-off.

That night, David approached J.W. in the latter’s study. "I didn’t appreciate how you refused to answer when I raised a point with you," David said.

"And I told you, I’m not interested in talking about it," J.W. replied, his voice showing agitation. "And I’m in charge."

"Well, I told you I am interested in talking about it," David replied.

"Either you get out of this room right now, or I’ll throw you out," J.W. growled, ominously starting to rise from his chair. As he started to stand––still caught between his chair and his desk––David raced around behind him, threw a choke hold around his neck and dragged him to the floor.
The preachers struggled. J.W. had the advantage of being far larger. David had the advantage of having gotten the first hold. And he was blacksmith strong. Neither preacher was gaining ground as they thrashed around on the floor. Their theology teachers hadn’t instructed them on what to do in such situations!

After several minutes of thrashing, it was becoming clear that victory for either was highly improbable. Suddenly J.W. cleared his throat. "David! David!" He said. "We must stop! What would the parishioners think?"

Years later I told J.W.’s son, a well-known and highly respected surgeon, the story of his father’s "fight" with David Sibley. The son said his dad had never shared that one. Or maybe it never happened. Maybe it was a figment of Paul Sibley’s imagination. I don’t know. I wasn’t there.

What I do know is that when old Paul Sibley’s stories got as lively as that one, I didn’t even mind having him squeeze my elbow so I couldn’t leave. And maybe preaching wasn’t as wimpy a profession as I’d once feared!

First, it was heart-warming to see our church’s graduates standing in front of the congregation last Sabbath. As the bulletin insert showed, we have a lot more graduates than were able to be present. And even our insert missed some. It’s impossible to keep track of everyone in a congregation the size of ours. But weren’t they a great group?

Not only have our youth achieved well, so have our young adults and not-so-young adults. Congratulations to all. Second, on Sabbath afternoon, Delby West and Anne Mueller conducted the Vacation Bible School’s volunteer orientation. It too was heart-warming. Greatly.

I often tell people when describing our congregation that we do some things superbly, we do some things adequately, we do some things poorly, and there are some things that just don’t get done. VBS definitely falls into the "done superbly" category. That’s why every participant slot was filled more than a month before the program is scheduled to begin. And that’s why more than one hundred volunteers are willing to help.

But it goes even further. Good leaders, willing volunteers and a large number of children (both in the church and in the community) are only part of the reason for the ongoing success. Markham Woods Church is willing to fund programs for the children, youth and young adults—fund them to a degree and with a willingness that I’ve never seen in any other congregation anywhere. Ever. Bar none. Thanks.

Third, this past Sunday Markham Woods Church played a major role in the community’s cleanup of the Little Wekiva River. Our church provided 18 canoes, some used by our members and some by people from the community. And our church provided a bus and driver to shuttle people back to their cars after the event. Our church also provided our Pathfinder Club’s camping chairs for the picnic following the cleanup. And we provided sunscreen, mosquito spray and bottled water.

But more than material, we provided people. Elementary, middle school, high school, college, young adult, adult—we had all age groups represented. Some twenty-five of the more than eighty people who went down the river came from our congregation.

It was truly heart-warming to see so many people from so many organizations all working together with Friends of the Wekiva to make our community better. (One teacher from Lyman High School got some thirty of his students to participate.) When we include those providing logistical support, nearly one hundred people participated. And a good time was had by all.

Fourth, on Wednesday, I joined Pathfinder leader Karen Gardner, youth pastor Luis Gracia, Children’s Ministries coordinators Delby West and Anne Mueller to lay plans for next year’s Pathfinder program. Over the years the club has adjusted and changed to meet changing needs.

The upcoming year will be no exception. Some significant changes are planned. Good ones. So let me assure those of Pathfinder age, and parents of Pathfinders, that it’s going to be a great year. We think you’ll like what’s in store.

With so many things to be grateful for, I hope you’ll excuse my exuberance.

HEAVENLY CITY––Speculation ended today concerning continuation of the long-term public-relations agreement Jesus Christ has had with a group of volunteers who operate under the generic name "Christians." He officially declared that he’s severing all formal ties and "going independent."

"Back when Christ started the movement that today is called Christianity," said a highly placed heavenly source, who spoke on condition of anonymity, "he thought it seemed a good idea to employ human volunteers as his ambassadors. It hasn’t worked out as envisioned. The commitment and the quality just haven’t been there."

The unnamed source noted that a few pointed comments from high-profile humans had contributed to Christ’s decision to rethink His good-news marketing strategy.

"That famous statement from Mahatma Gandhi––‘I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians; your Christians are so unlike your Christ’––really rocked Jesus," the source said. "It’s more or less a parallel of that old saying ‘With friends like you, who needs enemies?’ And one Mark Twain comment was equally jolting: ‘If Christ were here now there is one thing he would not be––a Christian.’"

According to another highly placed heavenly source, Christ’s decision to go independent hasn’t come about suddenly: "During the Dark Ages it was becoming clear that the Roman Catholic Church was no longer effectively marketing the gospel. But with a Reformation looming on the horizon, it seemed prudent to take a wait-and-see stance. Unfortunately, ‘Protestants,’ as the reformed group have called themselves, have been a great disappointment, too. And smaller sects who’ve made great claims about their spiritual purity haven’t delivered the goods, either. So Christ has decided to go back to the drawing board and develop a new marketing strategy that’s befitting the quality of the ‘product.’"

Another source close to Jesus said several options are being considered. One possibility––proposed originally during Christ’s 33-year in-person effort to introduce true spirituality to the world––is to have the rocks cry out. However, he is purported to have said that his preference is for "personal testimony."

That’s why he implemented his original plan, the source said. And it seems that the most effective personal testimony is actions, not words. "The rocks might be able to ‘cry out,’ but they’re incapable of effectively ‘acting out.’ And that’s what’s really needed."

The source added: "Saint Francis of Assisi got it right when he said to ‘preach the gospel always––and, if necessary, use words.’" It seems that Christians are a lot better at mouthing words than giving live demonstrations through their actions.

The full implications of Christ’s decision to go independent are still unclear. However, cynical observers have suggested that, granted the limited communication between some Christians and heaven, it may be years before they finally figure out that for a long time Christ has been far from happy about many of the things that have been done in his name.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor