Our Common Humanity

I actually began my ministry in NCC. While I was a student attending Oakwood College, I worked as a Youth Camp Counselor at Leoni Meadows 83' & 85' under Youth Director, Larry Caviness.

I cannot begin to describe how ministry in that multicultural setting impacted my life. The friends made among staff; the shared memories seeing how God worked in the lives of young people of all nationalities, impressed me deeply for future ministry.

Larry allowed us to use all of our gifts to minister in the context youth ministry (with parameters of course) so that camp was not only fun, but very spiritual.

He allowed us to do devotions by the campfire, preach, and even do a little comedy on Saturday nights. I remember writing a song entitled, "Why Did My Cat Die..?"

We'd all be dressed up in red plaid shirts and cowboy hats, and I would, with guitar in hand, tell the true story of a childhood memory of my own personal cat death experience. By the middle of the song the entire camp would sing "Why Did My Cat Die", but toward the close of the song we would be describing the glories of new Kingdom, where there will be no more death. The kids loved it and staff enjoyed participating in a kind of call and response. Somehow, even though it began in a very humorous fashion, it always ended very spiritual. Don't ask me how it happened, but it always did.

At the close of camp, often there were tears shed not only from the campers, but also among the staff. My eyes well up even just thinking about it.... After leaving camp, with a degree and no Conference employment in my home Conference, Southern California, (SCC), I was extended a call to work as a Task Force worker at the Alhambra SDA church where I was employed to conduct evangelism, mainly Revelation Seminars.

It was another rich multicultural experience. After working under Dr. Gayland Richardson for about a year, I got a summer position at Camp Cedar Falls as an Assistant Program Director for their summer camp program. Again, another rich experience, but unfortunately another temporary position. In 1986, however, I was extended a call to the full time pastorate in Los Angeles with SCC, and would serve churches for the next 20 years in the Pacific Union including Southern California, Arizona, with the exception of Hawaii, all were mostly segregated congregations. Or you might say the "Regional Sector" of those State Conferences.

friends.jpg

While I immensely appreciated the opportunity to minister to those of my own race in comfortable and familiar contexts, (I grew up in the hood; South Central Los Angeles). I can't begin to appreciate enough the diversity of peoples of color I have served for the past 12 years in a "Regional Conference," in the east. Yet I must say, my exposure to serving God's people in multi-cultural environments, prior to entering to the professional ministry, was a great blessing.

Why?... because it helped me in a very practical way, to experience something about people that you don't get from reading books, or by taking classes at the Seminary.

It was an invaluable experience to learn: That we all cry the same; we all laugh the same (well sometimes) but we all enjoy a good laugh; and we all bleed the same. We all are concerned about our children in the same way; we all miss our childhood innocent friendships, and experiences. We are all going to die the same...We all miss our deceased loved ones the same; and if we are faithful and put our trust in His righteousness, we will all rise the same way from the ground to see Jesus coming in the clouds in all His glory and Majesty.

We will all be transformed in our bodies the same; and translated into His glorious image the same in the same way at the same time. And on That Day we will truly understand as we never could before, that from God's perspective, All Lives Matter.

May the church at large be open to new experiences that teach us the value of all human life; by being willing cross boundaries, and not pass by on the other side as Jesus illustrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Reginald Denny

On April 29 1992 around 6:45pm, I was preparing to get in my car to go to prayer meeting in Los Angeles. My wife called my attention to the evening news. A white man had been dragged out of his white truck through no fault of his own, and lay in the middle of the street bleeding after being badly beaten and struck in the head with what looked like a crater. The incident took place on the corner of Florence and Normandie Ave, the flashpoint of the L.A. Riots, which was about 5 blocks from where I lived at the time. For 20 seconds I watched in horror, as no one came to his aid. Instinctively, I grabbed my coat and was headed out the door when I noticed my wife holding my shirt and our first born son, while pleading with me not to go out—for my own safety.

This was action of a Los Angeles Crip gang (who I was very familiar with in my youth) who were angered by the “not guilty” verdicts in favor the Officers who were acquitted for the beating of Rodney King. It would take approximately two minutes for me to get to the scene of action by car, four minutes by running. At that time, being a newlywed, I did not know how to end debate quickly in an emergency. So while I was trying assure my wife that I would be Ok, why I needed to go now, and why prayer meeting could wait, some Good Samaritan rescued the dying man saving his life.

I thank God that even though I was not able to get to Reginald Denny, he gave me the instinct to come to his aid, perhaps because of my Christian values and exposure to different cultures.

But, I thank God even more, that he put it into the heart of a stranger who may or may not have known God, to save another man's life regardless of his race.

The man who rescued Reginald, represents Jesus, who at the risk of his own safety and loss, cared enough to get the job done, because we were all were in danger of losing eternal life.

Pastor+Dixon.jpg
 

Stanley Dixon is Assistant to the President for Western New York, Northeastern Conference, and Pastor of Mount Carmel SDA Church.