Dr Bruce Manners
Senior minister
Avondale College Seventh-day Adventist Church

First a confession: I’ve watched MasterChef.

I’ve never had much of an interest. Still don’t, but we had family staying and they’re big fans.

I saw the episode where—shock—Marion Grasby lost. Apparently, she’d become the one to beat. Apparently, her satay sauce tasted great, but it didn’t look as appealing as the other competitor’s.

As a non-viewer introduced to the players only this past week, Marion’s loss didn’t mean much to me. It did to those staying with us. Even the other contestants thought so.

Marion is obviously a loser, or is she?

We all lose some time, at something. Does that make us a loser?

There’s a difference between losing at something and being a loser. We will have losses—that’s a part of life. Being a loser is an attitude that not only expects to lose, but lives as if your life calling is to be a failure.

Marion will never be master chef, she’s lost her chance. But she’s well on her way to achieving her goals. She’s already announced her own line of gourmet products—including her satay sauce. She’s rumoured to become “a face” of Coles supermarkets. And she’s already signed to be the first contestant to have a column in the new MasterChef Magazine.

Marion’s agent, Lisa Sullivan, says her phone has “rung off the hook” with offers. “There have been so many enquiries, for publishing deals to appearances for Marion,” she told Richard Clune of The Sunday Telegraph (“Marion Grasby tipped to be MasterChef millionaire,” July 10, 2010). “Her future is bright.”

“I get shocked at these sorts of things,” says Marion in the same article. “I feel I’ve been working really hard for not much reward since I quit journalism two years ago. It’s amazing.”

She’s no loser. Taking a loss doesn’t make you a loser.

Dr Bruce Manners
Senior minister
Avondale College Seventh-day Adventist Church

Christianity broke into a Greco-Roman world full of deities and gods with its belief of an unbridgeable gap between humanity and divinity. The gods didn’t care about humans, but they were formed by humans.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love, for instance, was considered in most places as a sexually driven being who caused grief in marriage and life. But she appeared elsewhere as a protector of cities and a protector of marriage within these cities.

Christians entered this world and surprised people by first saying there is but one God (capital “G”). They were accused of being atheists because it was obvious to everyone else there were many gods.

Then they made the stunning claim God cared about people. “The simple phrase ‘For God so loved the world . . .’ would have puzzled an educated pagan,” writes Rodney Stark in The Rise of Christianity. “And the notion that the gods care how we treat one another would be dismissed as patently absurd.”

But this understanding had a huge advantage because Christian teachings and faith helped make life meaningful—particularly during times of trauma. During epidemics, pagan priests and philosophers could find no meaning in or for them, and doctors fled the scene to save their own lives.

Dionysius (d 265), writing after an epidemic had ravaged the Empire for several years, noted while pagans were terrified, Christians greeted the epidemic as a “schooling and testing.” During these times, not only did Christianity explain what was happening (evil is found in our world in various forms) and comfort (God still cared about them and was with them in times of trouble), it provided something positive to do (care for those who were suffering).

Nothing’s changed.

Dr Bruce Manners
Senior minister
Avondale College Seventh-day Adventist Church

Reading some Seventh-day Adventist websites, you get the feeling Adventists are holding their breath waiting for decisions from the General Conference session in Atlanta, Georgia, USA. The session, held every five years, has 2400 delegates meet to vote in leaders, debate issues and make or adjust policies for the worldwide church.

The session lasts for 11 days—it finished on Saturday, July 3. In the evenings, delegates receive reports from each of the divisions of the General Conference. On the Sabbaths of session, the delegates join other Adventists in worship. About 40,000 attended the first Sabbath. These meetings and Sabbaths are memorable—the business sessions tend not to be, unless there’s a contentious issue.

In an organisational chart of the Adventist Church, you’d find the General Conference (GC) at the top. At the bottom is us, the local church. We’re part of a conference of churches (the North New South Wales Conference, to be precise); each conference is a part of a union of conferences (ours is the Australian Union Conference); and each union is a part of one of the 13 divisions of the General Conference (ours is the South Pacific Division).

One of the reasons you won’t find many people holding their breath about the meetings is the distance from where we are to the GC. Most decisions at that level have minimal impact in local churches. Some emphases will be passed down the line and churches will, to varying degrees, work with them.

A new president of the General Conference was elected on the first Friday of the session—Ted Wilson. His is a difficult task. He needs our prayers. We should also pray for those meeting at the GC session. The decisions made are important.

Of course, any level of the Adventist Church that forgets its main role is to support and encourage the local congregation, has lost its purpose. That’s not harsh, that’s reality.