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Wednesday, November 17, 2021 - 18:41

The Fourth Watch

By Pastor Dwight K. Nelson

April 7, 2021

Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorgan Chase, garnered a few headlines this week. His comments about the state of life and the economy in America caught my eye. In his annual shareholder letter on Wednesday (and no, I didn’t receive a copy), he not only prognosticated about the future but also offered a candid analysis of America right now.

“Dimon wrote that the Covid-19 pandemic, the 'horrific murder' of George Floyd, and the painfully slow economic growth of the past two decades are all symptoms of a broader problem: 'inept' public policy and broad government dysfunction” (

He goes on in his shareholder letter: “‘Unfortunately, the tragedies of this past year are only the tip of the iceberg — they merely expose enormous failures that have existed for decades and have been deeply damaging to America,’ . . . adding that the nation was ‘totally unprepared’ for the deadly pandemic” (ibid).

But all isn’t doom and gloom. “‘I have little doubt that with excess savings, new stimulus savings, huge deficit spending, more QE [quantitative easing—i.e., printing more money], a new potential infrastructure bill, a successful vaccine and euphoria around the end of the pandemic, the U.S. economy will likely boom,’ Dimon said. 'This boom could easily run into 2023 because all the spending could extend well into 2023’” (

But who cares what Jamie Dimon thinks? Fair enough. Though before we dismiss him too quickly, we should consider what this influential financial leader is suggesting.

America’s in trouble. The fractious events of the past year—racial, economic, political, medical—a hint of uneasy uncertainty ahead. And while there may be a euphoria-fed boom in the immediate future, existing ineptitude of public policy and governmental dysfunction, as he put it, may be ominous harbingers of what this country faces.

Was Jesus suggesting the same? “‘For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man’” (Matthew 24:38-39). 

I.e., life was carrying on, with its usual hiccups and small crises, as it always does—people eating (no sin there), drinking (no sin there), marrying (no sin there), and giving in marriage (no sin there). All of this, plain and simple, as per usual. Were there systemic fractures and fault lines evident in the day? Of course (just read the first seven verses of Genesis 6). But instead Jesus skips over Genesis 6 and focuses on the laissez faire attitude of the antediluvians.

And therein lay their fatal error.  Life was unraveling around them, but they just kept living it as if everything was going to be OK. This means Jamie Dimon’s prediction of a euphoric boom in our economy’s near future must not overshadow his warning of systemic fault lines in our society and government. Hungry for good news though this pandemic-embattled society is, we must not be willfully blind to the bad news that social and economic fissures are still widening. And so are the moral and spiritual fractures that threaten the soul of this civilization.

“‘And they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man’” (Matthew 24:38-39).

Describing our own generation, The Great Controversy warns: “The end will come more quickly than [people] expect” (631).

But then what did you expect? A recovery from the pandemic that ushers in a new millennium? Hardly! Even Jamie Dimon knows better. And given the times we now inhabit, we must know better, too.

March 31, 2021

For a band of no-name merchant marines, they certainly found the quickest way to global notoriety! They’ll be telling the story to their grandkids forever. After all the Suez Canal is a mere 200 to 225 feet wide. And the cargo ship they were sailing stretches 1,312 feet long (a quarter of a mile). Do the arithmetic. If that 200,000-ton “multi-decker” giant of the sea, loaded with 20,000 huge shipping containers (with $9 billion of estimated cargo), would manage to get crosswise in that very narrow canal, it’s “good-bye” to any other ship trying to get by.

And that is exactly what happened. The Ever Given became ever stuck, thanks to strong winds that wedged the vessel diagonally between the two canal walls. And the rest is the news feed story the world followed for a few humorous days (funny only to the newsreaders, not the sailors on board, not to mention the crews aboard the 321 ships backed up behind the Ever Given). 

What’s the big deal? “The Suez Canal is one of the world's most important waterways. Located 75 miles east of Cairo, the capital of Egypt, it links the Mediterranean Sea to the Red Sea, allowing for direct shipping from Europe to Asia. Roughly 12% of the world's shipping traffic and a chunk of its oil supply goes through the manmade canal, which has become particularly vital following pandemic-related disruptions to shipping” (

But as CNET put it, “thanks to a huge rescue effort and help from the moon itself, traffic has resumed on the Suez Canal” (Ibid). Even Mother Nature’s lunar tug got in the act with a strong falling tide that pulled the vessel free. Unjammed at last!

Two thousand years ago all of humanity, the entire race was jammed, wedged inside its mortal enemy they called Ever Grave. For the grave has ever been mankind’s destiny. And nobody . . . no one . . . since the beginning of time . . . has ever been able to unwedge and unjam the human race trapped in the dark and breathless domiciles of death. Graves, sepulchers, tombs, pyramids, mausoleums, mummies, urns, skeletons—not all the tears, not all the prayers, not all the incantations, not all the science even third millennials can boast—nobody has ever been able to unwedge the jam, to set the human race free. Nobody.

Until “the Maker of all things who loves and wants me” was buried in one of those "ever graves." Pulseless breast, nail-scarred and whip-lashed torso, Jesus lay on the cold shelf of that rock-hewn sepulcher. The stone door to His domicile sealed shut. Forever.

Until three o’clock that morning, or was it four? When in the nanosecond of a nanosecond a spark of deity ignited within the pulseless Body. And life—“original, unborrowed, underived” (Desire of Ages 530)—breezed through His lungs, unsealed His eyes, and animated His slumber. And a blinding, brighter than the noon-day sun, explosion of glory wrapped the Sun of Righteousness with a robe fire-white and a smile as strong as His love. 

And with that “The Maker of all things” came forth to love us all and to want us all—so that we, too, one day will come forth—unjammed—forever and ever. Amen.

March 24, 2021

He called marriage the “M” word, the late University of Chicago ethicist Don Browning: “‘It is often referred to as the “M” word, almost in the same category as other dirty words. Of course, it is not a dirty word, but it is a word that makes people uncomfortable as a topic of serious conversation’” (Marriage and Modernization: How Globalization Threatens Marriage and What to Do About It, p viii [quoted in Mark Regnerus, The Future of Christian Marriage p 4).

Let’s face it—timeless though it is, marriage as an institution is getting whacked in today’s culture, for both the young and the old. Nothing surprising there. But as pastor of a university parish where marriage continues to be a viable option, I am concerned about numbers now being reported. Too much is at stake for me and us not to speak up. And given realities in our own small community here in southwestern Michigan, it is necessary and, I believe, expedient that we hit the pause button and plunge into the “M” word as a campus congregation.

So we’re moving that new series, “For the Love of an Animal,” into May and June, so we can clear the decks and focus on marriage in the final weeks of this semester. It will be time well spent for all of us.

Although, like Luther, I approach this pastoral domain with caution: “‘How I dread preaching on the estate of marriage! . . . The lax authority of both the spiritual and the temporal swords has given rise to so many dreadful abuses and false situations, that I would much prefer neither to look into the matter, nor hear of it. But timidity is no help in an emergency; I must proceed. I must try to instruct poor bewildered consciences and take up the matter boldly’” (Martin Luther, The Estate of Marriage [Ibid. p. 27]). 

And what better spring day to begin this new series than Sabbath April 3, 9/11:45 AM (Easter weekend). “Marriage: Fresh Hope for the ‘M’ Word—He Lives!” 

But not before we have the joy this Sabbath of celebrating the Cross of Him who is our “the Maker of all things loves and wants me” Lord Jesus. These pandemic celebrations of the Lord’s Supper have turned out to be very meaningful worship experiences, the prepackaged communion elements and social distancing notwithstanding. Come and worship with us this Sabbath (“Love Story—Return to Sender: ’So I Am Sending You’”).

If you prefer to celebrate the Lord’s Supper at home, please drop by the church this Thursday or Friday to pick up your communion element kit. And then Friday evening, let’s join with family or a friend at home in commemorating our Lord’s washing of our feet that Thursday night long ago. What a blessed Sabbath is coming: “Do this in remembrance of Me.”

March 17, 2021

What do you say we shift gears for a few Sabbaths? Last fall it was “American Apocalypse.” This winter it was, “The Maker of All Things Loves and Wants Me.” But with springtime chomping at the bits to break out all over the land, let's celebrate the “Maker of all things” in the context of the wonderful little (and sometimes not so little) animals He has created for our blessing.

“For the Love of an Animal” will be the series of Old and New Testament stories revolving around animals (and by that I mean the four-legged kind)—you know, “Moooo,” “Baaaah,” “Bow-wow” (although unfortunately, the Bible doesn’t speak very highly of dogs—which we can gently consider and explain when we’re together).

But is there a human heart that doesn’t smile and glow in the presence of an animal? From toddlers to college kids to senior citizens—and all of us in between—the Maker of all things has planted animal love deep within our human souls for sure. 

But be forewarned—lest we conclude all the animal stories are warm and cuddly. They are not. But that’s OK. We still have lessons to learn.

So join us from Easter Sabbath (April 3) and onward as we worship Christ our Maker around the theme, “For the Love of an Animal.” Invite your friends to share the blessing, too.

PS—if you have a favorite animal story to share (I don’t mean from a book—but from your own life experience), you can go to Thank you.

March 10, 2021

Although I don’t suppose “happy” is the appropriate adjective when you’re talking about the one-year anniversary of the Covid-19 lockdown in Michigan, at Andrews, and with the Pioneer Memorial Church. Twelve months ago—who can forget the warp speed with which leaders and people alike, faculty and students alike, all of us alike—very much alike in our foreboding uncertainty (outright fear, I’m sure, for some) of what was happening to our nation, our community, our congregation—we were all catapulted into the strange new world of “lockdown.”

An empty sanctuary, empty classrooms, empty offices, empty everything and everybody, except for “essential” and “frontline” workers. Who can forget?

For those of us on the congregation side of the campus, empty was driven home when on Sabbath, March 14, 2020, two days after the university lock-down, a team of media workers and a few pastors showed up early Sabbath morning to conduct worship in a cavernous empty sanctuary. Who will forget that day! (I also remember it a bit more painfully, since in my rush to get to Pioneer, I backed into the rental car of a young family who was bedding down with us for the weekend. Oh boy! Got the scars to prove it.)

It seems like an eternity ago in some ways, doesn’t it? And yet in other ways, just like yesterday. Because for all our “reopenness” it still feels like we’re locked down. Face masks (what a joy it will be when we can safely discard these cloth coverings), physical distancing (have you noticed how we’re creeping closer and closer to each other—surely God understands), hand sanitizing and washing, et al. We still battle the pandemic.

But now many of us are lining up for our vaccinations (Karen and I are scheduled for next week), in a collective effort to build some sort of “collective immunity” in our country. How will life be different once we’ve been vaccinated? Here’s a link from the CDC with its latest depiction of a less-lockdown nation:

What about Pioneer? Our children’s leaders are anticipating reopening children’s Sabbath Schools on May 15. But don’t lock that date in yet, since tenuous times mean flexible calendars. We’ll keep you posted here in our eLetter and on Sabbath mornings.

But when it is all said and done—we really do have reason to praise God for the way He has shepherded us through these past roller coaster twelve months. The Angel of the Lord has been our protector. The Spirit of Jesus has gone on ministering electronically when not in person. And you who make the Pioneer Family what it is have been faithful partners and third millennial saints in the gracious way you have rolled with the punches! And for you, we on the pastoral and office team thank God. Your commitment to safety and health, your willingness to sacrifice in order to protect those around you, as well as your unrelenting support for both God’s Kingdom and Pioneer through it all—“I thank my God every time I remember you” (Philippians 1:3).

And I am also grateful for the team of pastor professionals I get to minister beside day in and day out. They have each gone above and beyond in their dedicated ministry for Christ in spite of and straight through the pandemic. We are blessed to have their giftedness in our midst. And good news, we'll be welcoming a brand new pastor family to our team and congregation on Sabbath, April 10—a new associate chaplain to join us a Pioneer and Pastor Jose and Danielle Pilgrim in the Center for Faith Engagement here on campus.

My psalm for the day this morning offered up this prayer: “Praise befits you, our God, in Zion. . . . Blessed are those You choose and bring near to live in Your courts. . . . You answer us with awesome and righteous deeds, God our Savior, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas. . . . You crown the year with Your bounty, and Your carts overflow with abundance” (Psalm 65).

This anniversary-of-sorts Sabbath let us gather in person and online with the praise that befits the Almighty God who has led us heretofore, and who will guide us yet into the uncharted future that awaits us. We go together. Amen.

January 20, 2021

While today is Inauguration Day when America’s political transference of executive power shifts from one administration to the next—and I know we all are praying for a safe and orderly transition—I do believe the day will carry on quite well without my opining over it in this blog. Instead, I would like to recognize readers’ responses to last week’s blog, “What Would You Do?” More specifically, how can the community of Christ, the church in fact, effectively respond to the multi-faceted needs of the homeless in our communities across this land? The backstory (you can read the previous blog) is of a homeless woman released from jail a week ago, and my conversations with the public defender and social worker.

The good news is the woman is safely residing now in a woman’s shelter, while formal processes with the county and at least one charitable organization have been initiated.

But that’s the problem, one reader gently chided. Why do congregations “tend to ‘outsource’ to people [serving the state or private charities] who do not regularly attend church nor have an interest in building a deep, lasting relationship with Christ nor serving others”? The reader goes on to suggest congregations use empty or under-utilized church buildings, offer free services (food pantries, basic legal advice, and medical care) provided by volunteers from the faith community. The point—turn to in-church resources to aid those seeking assistance before depending on outside community organizations. 

True, Acts 4 and 5 certainly do corroborate the faith-community-first approach in assisting those in need. But mitigating factors back then included a controversial minority ostracized by the religious and community hierarchy and an absence of any state-provided assistance. You either solicit aid from religious authorities who are seeking to destroy your sect, or you provide it among yourselves, which is the Acts response.

Another reader’s response to homelessness has been to serve “as an active volunteer and board member of two homeless organizations that started with no financial means—only Holy Spirit inspired Christians from several churches asking the same question: what can we do?” God bless this reader and these two start-ups: Interfaith Community PADS ( and Citizens Concerned for the Homeless ( Here is an example of Christians defining a critical need and banding together to begin meeting that need. 

An intriguing in-sourcing (sort of) suggestion came from another reader. What if we followed the model of the online email “group” Freecycle, with local chapters in Niles and St Joseph. People with items to give away as well as individuals with specific needs to be filled convene or converge at the Freecycle depot. “What if PMC partnered with N2N [Neighbor to Neighbor, our area Adventist churches' community service center] to create some sort of [similar] online ‘clearinghouse’ where the church could present the church [learns of] to the congregation?”

But is it enough to simply provide for physical or shelter needs? Another reader says No. “A person who is battling their addiction, homelessness, or criminal record needs to be taught how to handle those issues.” “Emotional regulation” and learning coping skills are vital. The reader appeals to remember the intangibles people need—“hope, faith, friendships, skills to handle the negative self-talk or outside stressors.”

I wish I could include all the reader responses I’ve received—stories of heartache from individuals who themselves have had to depend on N2N for assistance to a reader who lost a spouse to spiraling addictions and only now is recovering from the pain of that loss.

How can a blog solve such deep needs? Obviously, blogs only raise awareness of needs. One email response ended with, “When you find the answers, Pastor Dwight, let us all know!” Time-out! This isn’t about me finding the solution. As many have indicated, the solution rests with us collectively. What is clear is we all recognize it isn’t enough to parrot Ebenezer Scrooge’s response to the poor, “Aren’t there enough poor houses to provide for their needs?” It isn’t enough to think our tax dollars are responsible for solving social needs.

No, Jesus reminded us in the last story He ever told, “Inasmuch as you did it to the least of these, My brothers and sisters, you did it to Me” (see Matthew 25:40). If the truth—the Maker of all things loves and wants me—is the storyline of divine love, then it is the storyline He calls each of us to live out in our own little worlds. A few willing hearts and loving souls can band together to explore and begin to meet the growing need of poverty and homelessness. But it will take a village, or at least a congregation, to put feet to any ideas the Spirit will engender. 

I like the way Tom McCormick put in his email about the homeless organizations he has helped grow: “Let me know what I can do to help get the answer rolling. As you and I well know, be prepared for anything. Working the Monday night 2 AM to 7 AM shift as a chaperone at the Men’s Overnight Homeless Shelter for many years, I can tell you many lines were changed by one bad decision to take the wrong fork in the road.”

Clearly, the solution we seek lies not so much in a plethora of ideas, but in a hardy band of Christ-followers who are willing to serve time on the front line of this desperate need—out of devotion to Jesus and a love for the people the Maker of all things loves and wants. If you are willing to be in that band, please let me know. The Maker of all things thanks you.

And no wonder, for “the last message of mercy to be given to the world is a revelation of God’s character of love” (Christ’s Object Lessons 415).

January 13, 2021

The more I think about it, the more I’m concluding the operative question isn’t—What would you do?—but rather—What would Jesus do?

For a few moments let’s leave the trials and tribulations of our nation and its government behind. After all, life much closer to home can be complicated enough, have you noticed?

Take the fifty-year-old woman who's going to be released this afternoon from the Berrien County jail. She’s homeless, has been living out of her car for months—a car impounded for the thirty days she’s been behind bars (a car worth less than the accruing daily charge she now owes the towing company). And she has “no” money. No money, I should say, except the few dollars from disability and quick temp jobs.

She called our number back in early December. We met her at a gas station, filled her car, gave her money for food, and visited for a while. Turns out over the years she’s been to Pioneer worship, sort of a “stranger within your gates” (Exodus 20:10), showing up so sporadically you probably wouldn’t recognize her. But I do—because she is the daughter of my mother’s cousin. I buried both her parents. And now I wonder what it will take to save her from this vortex sucking her down.

Close to midnight that December day she called again. Something about her car broken down and a run-in with the police. Another gas station. We took her to her friend’s place. A few days later the public defender called—the woman was in jail. Some sort of misdemeanor. Could I help? the lawyer asked. I soon was in touch with a social worker assigned to her case.

What a gift from God this social worker has turned out to be! Licensed as she is, she's also a Benton Harbor pastor’s wife. She has scrambled to hunt down every possibility for housing, for public aid, for crisis management, for addiction counseling—the stuff that social workers are gifted to do. She and I met at the jail before Christmas when the bond was posted for the prisoner to be released into the social worker’s care. But a few days later, the social worker called again. Guess who's back in jail once more? The truth is social workers can’t force people to change—and neither can pastors—or even family members. You can outline a strategic recovery plan—but if the helped one torpedoes it, what’s left? More time in jail. 

What I’ve discovered is that the state is hardly equipped to handle the bifurcated realities of citizens who may publicly appear to be living upstanding lives—but who behind their facades are not only physically houseless but emotionally homeless—who have burned their bridges behind them, and their homes, too. So when the judge gavels “you’re free to go”—they have nowhere to go. The homeless of America—struggling with mental health—and ever driving, parking, driving, parking, all they possess crammed into claustrophobic space.

Enter now the church of Christ, the one you and I belong to. What can the church do to come alongside these of whom Jesus said, “Inasmuch as you have done it to one of the least of these My sisters, you have done it to me?” (Matthew 25:40). Pray for good social workers? Of course. Pray for the alliances of federal, state, and county legal systems with non-profit mental health services that direct homeless Americans to a path toward healing, or at least help? Good idea. But what about the church?

What can we do? Or rather, what would Jesus do? The story of the infant church in Acts is of a faith community banding together to provide for the welfare of its own. “All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had . . . [so] there were no needy persons among them” (Acts 4:32-34). For us today this may be less about strategy and more about the process—they collaborated together to meet felt needs. We don’t need a community pot of money—we need a community that owns the needs. 

In this specific case, we turned to people who know the housing situation in our village—and to a person, they were gracious and helpful (including our friends at Neighbor to Neighbor). But what would happen if we had a “bank” of availabilities (everyone says housing is our biggest local challenge), so that in emergencies like this one we could quickly turn for help—available short term housing, renovated automobiles to loan or to give, food-clothing-domestic-supplies (like N2N offers), temporary/part-time job openings, et al. Too big a challenge, too major a response? Maybe not. I wish you’d write me with suggestions you think might work well ( There must be something we can do.

But this winter as we explore ways we can fulfill Jesus’ “As the Father has sent Me, so I am sending you” mission (John 20:21)—I’m asking the Holy Spirit to open our eyes for fresh ways to put feet to His compassion—so that “the last message of mercy to be given to the world [will truly be] a revelation of God’s character of love” (Christ’s Object Lessons 415).

January 7, 2021

That’s the word a friend texted me as the tragic turn of events in our nation’s capitol building unfolded on live television. What is there to say that hasn’t been said? Our hearts break for this land we love—no matter who we are or how we voted. 

Turns out NPR’s observation we are facing a dark winter, is truer than first thought. Yes, of course, the darkness that has spread over this land because of the still raging COVID-19 pandemic is terrible. Now add to it our hearts freshly broken—what is there to say that hasn’t been said?

Plenty—as it turns out. Because you and I have discovered a story, a portrait, a message one writer described this way: “The last rays of merciful light, the last message of mercy to be given to the world, is a revelation of [God’s] character of love” (Christ’s Object Lessons 415).

In more ways than one, that “last message” is just what American is ripe and ready for right now. “Yes, but with the pandemic and politics, we’ll never be able to get the word out.” Are you kidding!

We have been set up for divine success. And I’ve got four young preacher friends (digital missionaries) who are going to join me in Pioneer's fresh New Year worship/pulpit series—as we collectively examine and experiment with some very doable (in the middle of a pandemic) strategies.

Here are a few of the upcoming titles: “Good-bye Good Ole Days: ‘So I Am Sending You’” (1/9) . . . “Love Story for a Dark Winter: ‘So I Am Sending You’” (1/16) . . . “Reviving a Mummy: ‘So I Am Sending You’” (2/6) . . . “Two Hands on the Lightsaber: ‘So I Am Sending You’” (3/13) and a bunch more.

And to top it off—we’ve got a gifted team of musicians who will be crafting praise for each worship experience (shout-outs to Ken Logan and his team, along with Chuck Reid and his young worship leaders). Pioneer worship will be a bright and sunny, uplifting experience no matter how dark this winter gets.

So I do hope you’ll be able to join us in person or online (9:00 AM & 11:45 AM) this chilly winter. As we need to keep reminding ourselves, the best is yet to come—and always will be—with Jesus.

December 16, 2020

For this pandemic Christmas, I say let’s forget Covid-19 for a quiet moment. Enough is enough already. Instead, I invite you to sit back with me and let the joy and wonder of Jesus’ First Coming invade our souls. 

I once saw a painting by Julius Gari Melchers simply titled, The Nativity. Perhaps it was the way the artist captured the brooding face of the husband-not-father as he leans forward on his squatted knees and pensively stares at the bedded Newborn tucked at his feet in that crude box of hay. Or maybe it was the utter “spentness” of the young birth mother, exhausted, now prone on the cold floor, save for her slumping shoulders propped against the stable wall, her tired eyes at half-mast, her weary face expressionless and resting upon the side of her betrothed. It makes you wonder: What is it the husband broods upon? What thoughts are hers, the young mother? In the heavy, still, air do they wonder that the “infant lowly” is the “infant holy”?

“Beyond all question, the mystery from which true godliness springs is great:
He appeared in the flesh,
   was vindicated by the Spirit,
was seen by angels,
   was preached among the nations,
was believed on in the world,
   was taken up in glory.” (1 Timothy 3:16)

“Great mystery”—these ancient words are as provocative in the Greek as they are in the English—mega musterion—a truly “mega mystery.” How else shall we describe the immersing incarnation (literally, “infleshment”) of the Infinite into this shadowland we finites still call home? 

G. K. Chesterton was right: “We walk bewildered in the light, for something is too large for sight, and something much too plain to say.” The Seed of God planted in the womb of humanity—why the very mechanics and genetics of such a divine-human anatomical transfer are more than even our third millennial science can fathom. 

But in the end, the great mystery that Christmas bids us ponder isn’t so much that God could do it, but rather that God would do it. “The work of redemption is called a mystery, and it is indeed the mystery by which everlasting righteousness is brought to all who believe. . . . Christ, at an infinite cost, by a painful process, mysterious to angels as well as to men, assumed humanity. Hiding His divinity, laying aside His glory, He was born a babe in Bethlehem” (7BC 915).

It was the day before Christmas. Busily wrapping packages, the boy’s mother asked if he’d please shine her shoes. Soon, with the proud smile of a 7-year-old, he brought her shiny shoes for inspection. She was so pleased, she handed him a quarter. On Christmas morning she felt a strange lump in one shoe. Taking it off, she shook the shoe and out dropped a quarter wrapped in a small piece of paper. On it in a child’s scrawl were the words: “I done it for love.”

December 9, 2020

We continue to pray for Brandon Bernard, the Seventh-day Adventist 40-year-old awaiting execution in a few hours, December 10, 12:01 AM. Thank you for joining the many who are claiming Proverbs 21:1 on behalf of both this process and this young man. The North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists has posted this statement on its website:

Members in North America Asked to Pray Regarding Adventist on Death Row in Indiana

“The Seventh-day Adventist Church is a complex family, made up of many different types of people — all of which have fallen short of God’s glory but have the possibility to receive grace through His redemptive love. Like most families, we sometimes face troubled times. One of our members is now facing such a huge challenge. Brandon Bernard is a death row prisoner facing execution at 12:01 a.m. ET on Thursday, December 10. Bernard was convicted of a vicious crime committed in 1999, but now people involved in his conviction, including one of the prosecutors who fought to maintain Bernard’s conviction and sentence on appeal, are seeking clemency to change his sentence from death to one of life in prison. You can find out more about the facts involved in this case by watching this news report by CBS News. Recent news on the case can also be found in this Indianapolis Star article.

“Pastor Dwight Nelson, senior pastor of the Pioneer Memorial Church on the campus of Andrews University in Berrien Springs, Michigan, introduced Bernard’s story during the church’s service last Sabbath (December 5). Click here to view Nelson’s message.

“The leadership of the North American Division is appealing to members to pray for those involved in the decision regarding Bernard’s sentence; the families of the victims; and Bernard and his family as the scheduled execution draws near.

“You can find out more about Brandon Bernard’s case at” (