The U.S. Supreme Court has long recognized the constitutionality and even desirability of teaching about religion, going back to the prayer and Bible reading decisions in the early 1960s. A wide array of religious leaders and church-state experts fashioned a statement on teaching about religion 15 years ago that was incorporated into Federal Department of Education guidelines that both the Clinton and Bush administrations embraced. These guidelines [state]:

"Public schools may not provide religious instruction, but they may teach about religion, including the Bible or other scripture, the history of religion, comparative religion, the Bible (or other scripture)-as-literature, and the role of religion in the history of the United States and other countries––all are permissible public school subjects. Similarly, it is permissible to consider religious influences on art, music, literature, and social studies. Although public schools may teach about religious holidays, including their religious aspects, and may celebrate the secular aspects of holidays, schools may not observe holidays as religious events or promote such observance by students."

Here are a few suggestions that will help us steer through [to] a safe harbor in a way that is constitutionally appropriate, culturally sensitive and educationally sound.

1. Before a school district begins teaching about religion, it must make sure it has adequately trained the teachers. Teachers need to be expert in the subject matter and also well versed in the difference between teaching religion in an academic way, rather than devotionally.

2. Religion should be taught where it naturally arises in the curriculum, such as in World history, American history or social studies classes. We should teach what the weight of responsible mainstream scholarship suggests but without ignoring the minority opinion. For example, while teaching the colonial era, most scholars would say our founders generally were religious men, but they fashioned a secular government intended to ensure religious liberty for all not [to] ensconce their own religious point of view. Others––the minority to be sure––think we were set up as a Christian nation and that governmental institutions were based explicitly on biblical mandates. What they believe need not be taught as true, but the fact that they believe it should be. After all, the public schools belong to everyone.

3. Schools may also tailor specific courses for teaching about religion. These involve subjects such as Bible-as-literature and comparative religion. Care should be taken here to adopt the best curriculum––one that is academic, rather than devotional and which seeks to educate rather than indoctrinate. With respect to Bible-as-literature courses, teachers should not advocate for a particular theological position . . . and in comparative religion not make value judgments about which religion is better than the others or is true or false.

4. Although some argue schools should teach about religion only in the upper grades, I don’t go that far. But, I think special precautions need to be taken if religion is to be taught about in the lower elementary grades.

The fact is, the economy of the Old South was non-viable. Were large numbers of people not in forced servitude, things would have been altogether different––as became the case after emancipation.

I often ask myself: How did people back then live with themselves, knowing that their luxury was (figuratively) carried to them on the backs of slaves? How could moral, church-going people be party to such social injustice?

And as such honorable thoughts race through my mind, I smite my breast––like the Pharisee in Christ’s parable––and thank God that I’m not like those Southerners back then.

And with my heightened self-righteousness adding a new spring to my every step, I walk into the nearest Wal-Mart, where I load up on commodities produced by people working for a dollar or two a day in some sweatshop half a world away.

Suddenly it strikes me that, while those sweatshop laborers aren’t technically slaves, most of them are as subject to the caprices of their corporate overseers as were slaves of old. And then I start feeling guilty.

True, my level of luxury falls far short of the opulence of many in the Old South. But that doesn’t change the fact that the overwhelming majority of the world’s population would gladly trade their financial status for mine. Most sobering, though, is that my standard of living is made possible by a group of people who basically have no choices in life. They’re slaves in effect if not in name.

The idea that my life of relative luxury is (figuratively) carried to me on the backs of near-slaves appalls me––if for no other reason than having to admit that I’m only a step or two removed from the master class in the Old South. That’s just too much for my Northern self-righteousness to countenance.

So I’m going to do the moral thing. I’m going to check the origin of every product I buy. I’m not going to buy anything that comes from a country where people are working for mere pennies under appalling conditions.

And I’m going to organize demonstrations and get others onto my bandwagon with me. Why, if I’m really persuasive, we may force the big corporations who vicariously run the sweatshops to dramatically raise the pay of those poor laborers.

But then a few things I learned back in some college class or other come to mind: Higher pay means more costly commodities, which means that fewer commodities will be sold, which means that fewer people will be needed to make the products, which means that some of those people earning only a dollar or two a day will cease to get even that pittance.

So what am I to do? Buy "morally tainted" products? or help some poor people while hurting others?

O Solomon, where art thou?

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

But I really don’t recommend the KJV as the primary translation for those younger than I am––and that’s a big chunk of the population!

I know that a lot of "old-timers" (my age and older) have strong feelings about translations. And I can understand such preferences––especially for the KJV. For those of us who grew up immersed in King James’ masterpiece, its phraseology has burned itself into our psyche. Indelibly.

It’s as if certain biblical passages belong exclusively to the KJV. Although I typically read Psalm 23 from the NIV at a funeral, it’s always with a slight pang of conscience––as if I’m robbing my listeners of something that’s rightfully theirs. And I wouldn’t even consider leading a public recitation of the Lord’s Prayer in the language of the NIV. It’s KJV all the way.

Yet all that notwithstanding, I still don’t recommend the KJV (or even the New King James Version) as the main Bible for the "Under 55 and Very Alive" crowd. And here’s why.

The other day I was talking to a young couple and quoted the Apostle Paul’s (KJV-rendered) admonition to "prove all things" and hold fast that which is good. The thirty-something couple to whom I was speaking just looked at me, nonplused. Clearly, what I’d just said made no sense to them.

Suddenly understanding struck, and the man said, "I get it! When you used the word ‘prove,’ did you use it to mean ‘test,’ maybe?" I assured him that was precisely what I meant.

But for him, that definition of "prove" was venturing onto unfamiliar ground. And that’s the case with far too many other words used in the KJV. Words and phraseology change over time. Back when I still used the KJV in my preaching, I discovered that I was spending so much time explaining word meanings that I was left with inadequate time to explain the meaning of the passage.

Now to a separate but related theme: Some people (especially old-timers––my age and older, remember!) love the formality and respect shown by the KJV’s "thee" and "thou" terminology, especially when used to address God in prayer. It seems to put God on the pedestal He deserves.

But the reality is, "thee" and "thou" are the familiar form of the second person singular. They equate to the familiar "tu" (versus the more formal "usted") in Spanish. They’re the terminology used for addressing one of inferior station or––and this is important––one who, though your superior, is so close to you that you’re entitled to take such liberties.

Contrary to the common misunderstanding, "thee" and "thou" highlight our intimacy with God, His accessibility, our invitation to come boldly to His throne of grace, rather than His vast superiority to us.

Anyway, those are some of my reasons for going with a modern translation and more familiar words.

"Is this an April Fool’s joke?" he’s alleged to have asked when his staff broke the news. He seems to recognize that he isn’t truly worthy of such an honor. Not at this point, at least.

In fact, his unreadiness seems to be one of the few things that both the political right and left agree about. Both ends of the spectrum have derided the decision. Even the most dyed-in-the-wool Obama supporters feel it’s too much too soon.

Saturday Night Live isn’t the only venue where Obama has come in for sling-offs. The other day one of my sons received a "breaking news" email saying that Obama had just won the Heisman Trophy–– for having watched a college football game!

It’s quite clear that the decision-making committee gave Obama the award in anticipation of good things to come rather than because of an array of good things already accomplished.

However, before we get too critical of the President’s surprise honor, let’s remember that you and I have been given a similar gift. And onlookers would be totally justified should they feel that we, too, are undeserving.

Here’s the deal: Salvation is a gift that’s given to those of us who acknowledge our unworthiness, express true sorrow for our bad performance and accept on faith that God will keep His word despite our paltry record of achievement. In fact, God never gives any of us salvation on the basis of our accomplishments. But part of the justification for His saving us is that He anticipates something better from us in the future.

The beloved apostle, John, says it this way: "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are. . . . Dear friends, now we are the children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him . . . (1 John 3: 1, 2, NIV, emphasis mine).

I love the following words about Jesus: "In every human being He discerned infinite possibilities. He saw men as they might be, transfigured by His grace. . . " (Education, page 80). God gives out His gifts because He knows what Christ did on our behalf and because of His anticipation of the lofty things Christ can and will still do in us.

But at the moment, based solely on our performance, the gift of salvation seems a truly rash act on God’s part. Which is why, in the Seventh-day Adventist understanding of the great controversy, it’s so crucial not only that justice be done, but that justice be seen to be done.

Many onlookers right now wonder if the Nobel Peace Prize committee didn’t take an unwarranted gamble in giving their award to President Obama. And it may well be that a lot of highly intelligent created beings throughout the universe are wondering the same thing about what God has given to you and me.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Maybe we’ve been diagnosed with a debilitating disease. Maybe we’re facing bankruptcy. Maybe we’ve been let go from our job—perhaps even unfairly. Whatever the adversity, the future looks bleak indeed.

Fortunately, most of us have friends who rally around at such times. They seek to encourage us. To let us know we’re loved. And, for the most part, their efforts are helpful. But not always.

Personal experience—and a lot of interaction with those going through tough times—suggests to me that we don’t make a positive contribution when we minimize what someone else is experiencing. When we say, "You’ll get over it," our words may be true (or partly so). But to the sufferer, such comments can come across as, "It’s really no big deal; you’re making a mountain out of molehill."

The Bible tells us to "mourn with those who mourn" (Romans 12:16). It doesn’t say people shouldn’t mourn. Or that they have no reason to mourn. Or that mourning shows a lack of faith.

When talking about the death of a loved one, the Bible doesn’t say we shouldn’t be sorrowful. It simply says our grief should be tempered by our hope in the resurrection. Our grief shouldn’t be like that of those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). But there will be—and should be—grief.

When people are going through a crisis, let’s acknowledge the depth of their pain. Let’s not try to minimize it or brush it aside. Let’s meet it head-on. What’s happening is terrible. It stinks. It’s unfair. It’s traumatizing. It’s heart-rending. It’s gut-wrenching.

Let’s label bad for what it is—in its full magnitude.

One of our most hurtful (though well-intended) expressions is to tell sufferers that God has something even better in store for them. But let’s be honest: We don’t have a clue how good or bad someone’s future is going to be (in this life, at least). So let’s not act as if we do. It’s taking the name of the Lord in vain, I’d suggest, to speak so definitively concerning things only He can know.

My responsibility to a friend who’s facing adversity is, first and foremost, to simply "be there." Mere presence offers more comfort than words are ever likely to achieve.

Acknowledgement and affirmation come next. Admit how hurtful the situation is. Show understanding for why a person would be so upset and so pained. Don’t seek to rush the healing process—because there are no shortcuts.

Then, as time passes and as the grief—which was so overwhelming and so all-consuming at first—begins to move beyond the initial-shock phase, we can start (tentatively and humbly) to offer rational observations, to tell personal stories of things we’ve found beneficial, to create situations that may help the person move on. But we must always be careful to avoid bold pronouncements about things that are totally outside our capacity to know.

Several "comforters" in Job’s day had trouble recognizing their limitations. Let’s not repeat their error.