Biography
Donald N. Bastian is Bishop of the Free Methodist Church in Canada. A native Canadian, Dr. Bastian was educated in the United States and holds a doctoral degree from Seattle Pacific University. Dr. Bastian is the author of several books, including his latest, Counterfeit: The Lie of Living Together Unmarried. His articles have appeared in many publications, including Christianity Today and the Toronto Star. [Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted above.]

"The God's-Eye View of Life" 
My wife and I spent a week in Northern Indiana one late November, and the weather was dreadful. Dark grey clouds hung low and the temperature hovered in the thirties. It rained off and on most of the week. When we went outdoors, gusty winds drove the rain drops into our faces and they stung like ice pellets. It was a good week for depression.

I make it a custom to phone my family when I'm away, and on Friday of that week I phoned my daughter, Carolyn, in Toronto. We chatted about this and that, and she brought me up to date on things. Toward the end of the call, I said, "And, how are you doing?" She replied, "Oh, Dad, you wouldn't believe it. The weather has been cold. It has been rain, rain, and more rain. I haven't seen the sun in two weeks and, frankly, it's getting me down."

Two days later, I had to fly from Chicago to Montreal. The big DC-10 took its planeload of passengers out to the end of the runway and we sat there awaiting clearance. From my window seat I looked at the clouds. They were still low and angry. I saw the threads of rain blown diagonally across the window. But I didn't realize, sitting there, that I was about to see something I'd never seen before.

Suddenly, the jet engines revved up and the plane began to move, picking up speed until it was surging down the runway. I felt the nose raise; there was the thump of the wheels as we left the ground and were airborne.

We climbed steeply toward the low-lying clouds and in moments we were into them. I could see nothing. But, after a few minutes we broke through the top into clear air. Horizontal vision was good. I could see the cloud layer receding below, but there was also another bank of clouds above us. The pilot kept the DC-10 knifing upwards and soon we were enveloped in the second bank. After a couple of minutes, we flew through this layer too, but — and this is what was surprising — there was yet a third layer above us.

Upward we climbed, entering the third bank of clouds. We saw nothing for a short while. Then, suddenly, we broke through that third layer and our plane was instantly flooded with light. The sky above was cloudless. The sun made the whole world seem brilliantly lit. It had been there all the time, but the heavy, dark layers of cloud had masked it from us.

The pilot banked toward the east and, when we had reached our altitude, the attendants moved up and down the aisles, serving us a pleasant breakfast — orange juice, scrambled eggs and sausage, a roll with marmalade, and steaming coffee.

Then, nearing Montreal, we began to descend. Downward we sank into the clouds. Their wispy substance brushed my window. Little by little, the fields below came in sight. We landed, my driver picked me up, and we headed for the parking lot. outside, the air was brisk; a cold rain fell and the wind was chilling.

The driver whisked me out to a semi-rural church, fifty miles away, where I was scheduled to speak. When we arrived, outside the church I saw the people hurrying from all directions through the unpleasant weather, coat collars hugged tightly to their throats. Yet, when I got out of the car and moved toward the church, I found myself untroubled by the dull, cold weather.

The reason was this: I'd been above the clouds where the big sky was full of light, so I had been reminded of the nature of the larger reality. This gave me a fresh perspective on the limited sphere of my own existence. I could take the rain and wind in stride because I had seen the sun.

When John, the writer of the Revelation, was exiled on the Isle of Patmos, thirty-five miles off Asia Minor, he was in a narrow sphere. Patmos was a volcanic isle, eight miles long and four miles wide at the widest point. Anyone banished to Patmos was cut off from home, friends, community and church. It was an isolated, dreary and confining existence. But, for John, it was a place of visions and he wrote some of his visions down.

In Chapter 4, for example, he says, "I looked and there before was a door standing open in heaven. A voice like a trumpet said, ‘Come up here and I will show you what must take place after this.'" No DC-10 stood by to convey him upwards through the door. But, he said, "I was in the Spirit," and the Spirit of God conveyed him upward to a sphere much larger than his Patmos prison to a world not visible to the eye but real nonetheless.

What did John see first? He saw a throne, and someone was seated on the throne. Note, John is too wise to describe that divine personage — the Supreme Ruler of the universe. He only alludes to him symbolically: He was "like jasper and carnelian" — two luminous, precious stones that would dazzle the eye. He does make the point, however, that the throne was not abdicated; it was occupied. In the midst of his exile, the sun was shining. God was on His throne!

Suppose you should give Revelation 4 to someone near you, someone who had an appreciation for English. Suppose you should say, "This is an imaginative piece by a high school student. Please tell me what you think." Your friend might read it and say, "It's colorful and engaging, but the word ‘throne' is used monotonously. Could the writer not use some synonyms?" Such advice would miss the point. Repetition is often used for emphasis. The word appears again and again for that purpose: "encircling the throne," "before the throne," "out of the throne," and "on the throne." Throne, throne, throne — the word throbs through the chapter.

I was sitting in a church in Florida waiting for the service to begin. I had a Bible opened on my lap. A friendly usher working the center aisle stopped by once and asked what I was reading. When he saw my Bible was opened to Revelation 4, he delivered himself of a pronouncement. He said, "Oh, that's the book that says the world is in a mess and things are going to get worse."

It was not the place for a theological debate, but his pronouncement missed the point entirely. It's true this last book of the Bible says much about judgment; and it has scary references to beasts and dragons, and storms and a bottomless pit. But, when you take your bearings from this chapter, you learn the book's message is this: No matter how bad things get, God is on His throne and nothing happens in our limited spheres without His permission. That's why "throne" is repeated so often.

So, however low and angry your skies are, however confined your circumstances, you should know that above the clouds the sun is shining. There is in heaven a throne, and one is seated on the throne

Revelation 4 is full of symbols. Let us look at two of them.

"A rainbow resembling an emerald encircled the throne" (v.3b). You've seen rainbows, I know, but have you seen an emerald one? What would that be like? If you've ever flown into Ireland on a fall day, you know what it is like to come down through the clouds and catch your first glimpses of the land below. You see a rich, verdant green everywhere. No wonder they call Ireland "the Emerald Isle."

Where did such an image come from? Go back to the first book of the Bible, chapters 7 to 9. Here's the story of God's judgment visited on man's wickedness by means of a flood. Only Noah, his wife and three sons, and their three wives, are spared. After the flood has subsided and Noah is reunited with the earth, God says to him, "You see that rainbow in the clouds after a storm has subsided? From now on, that will be the symbol of my mercy to humankind, even in times of judgment."

John picks this image up again at the close of the first century A.D. He has a vision of God's throne with an emerald rainbow encircling it. The meaning must be clear: John is going to write fierce judgments, but, before he does, he reminds the church — of his day and ours — that God's mercy will always be as great as his judgment. His judgment will not overwhelm His mercy! That is a comforting word for believers who witness storm clouds of judgment in their skies. "The mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting, to those who fear Him."

Look at another of John's symbols. He writes that, "Out of the throne came flashes of lightning, rumblings and peals of thunder." (v.5)

If you want to know where imagery like this comes from, look to the second book of the Bible, the Book of Exodus. God had delivered his people from Egypt. They had struck camp near Mount Sinai. He is about to establish covenant with them. He will give them his commandments encapsulated in the "Ten Words" — the Decalogue. So, the scene is set. Moses is ordered to come up to the summit of the mount. The people are warned not to approach the base, lest they die.

Here's the description of that never-to-be forgotten day: "On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled." (19:16)

There is a majesty to God's law. God intended his people to realize this. His law is the expression of His being. When He says, "You shall have no other gods before Me," he means it. When He says, "You shall not steal," He means it. He means it when He says "You shall not commit adultery."

But, it is so easy to become casual about the law of God. It is especially easy for some Christians to say that this is the age of grace, as though God's grace and God's law were somehow opposed to each other; as though, if you have faith in His Son, Jesus, that gives you license to play fast and loose with His laws. Not so. The laws of God are majestic; they must not be taken lightly.

And, here is how John represents that fact. "From the throne came flashes of lightning, rumblings and peals of thunder." The last book of the Bible is the Revelation of Jesus Christ to the exiled John. It's for the church and in it we are told John is called up to the throne room of the universe. He first sees the throne, but quickly he is aware that out of the throne shoot flashes of lightning and peals of thunder. What does this say? That God's sovereignty is always consistent with His law. He judges on the basis of that law. If you want your life to be stable in frighteningly unstable times, trust the grace of the sovereign God, but take His law seriously.

So, the message of the chapter is that however isolated and narrow your existence may seem, there is a larger reality you can be in touch with. Worship the God who is on His throne and your perspectives for this life will be widened. You may be on a Patmos of your own, but the worship of God will give you the bigger picture.

Relative to this, let me tell you a story from my childhood on the prairies of Saskatchewan. I was growing up during the thirties of this century, and the thirties were dry and dusty and the people impoverished. Like the rest of North America, we were coming out of a depression. Life was hard.

My little English mother must have felt the stress, but she was a godly woman. A block away from our home stood the modest little white church we attended. Each Wednesday night she went there to meet with eight or ten others for a prayer meeting. I was a boy of ten or eleven and sometimes she would ask me if I would like to go. On occasion, I went.

I don't have photographic recall of what happened in those meetings, but I do remember their mood and their movement. It was like this: Attenders were adults. Life for each of them was hard in a different way. The meetings would begin with the singing of a hymn and reading from the Bible. Someone would comment. They would share their burdens with one another. Mrs. A. had a godless husband who was hard to live with. Mrs. S. had an alcoholic husband who beat her. Another family's newly-formed business was on the brink. There were tears as they would pray for one another.

Occasionally, someone would start to sing a hymn or gospel song and the rest would join in. This would bring cheer. As the meeting progressed, the clouds would lift, the sun would begin to break through. Their narrow perspectives would widen. Back then there was one song that might be raised toward the end of the meeting. It went:

God is still on the throne
He never forsaketh His own
Though troubles may press us
And trials distress us
He never will leave us alone.

God is still on the throne
And He will remember His own
His promise is true
He will not forget you
God is still on the throne.

Interview with Donald Bastian
Interviewed by Orley Herron

Orley Herron: Don, it's great to see you again. It has been many years since we've been together. I know from the years that we spent in Greenville, you have been a highly respected religious leader, not only here in the States but now in Canada. You were always a very good writer, as well as an excellent speaker. Your new book, which is published by Light and Life Press both in Canada and the United States, covers an interesting topic. Why in the world would a bishop write about people who are living unmarried together?

Donald Bastian: I wrote that book, Orley, because there were increasing requests from pastors asking for help with this. It was, apparently, a burgeoning phenomenon. It was happening everywhere. I thought it was time to sit down and try to put together some help, not only for pastors and people in the life of the church but also for couples who were into the situation and wanted to get out of it.

The census, I think in '85, said that there were just under five million people who said they were living together unmarried. I think that is highly inaccurate. I have asked questions in fairly large congregations, both in the United States and Canada. I have asked the question, "Who in this congregation does not have any contact with someone who is living together unmarried?" I have never yet had anyone raise a hand. In other words, it's a child, a cousin, a neighbor across the street, or a friend. This makes me think it has become an epidemic. That would be all right if everything were going well. My own experience as a pastor, as well as the word I get from pastors, is people in that situation are not really comfortable. They are asking for help. So, I thought I would try to put together both some scriptures and reasons why this is not God's intended plan and what can be done to change the situation.

Herron: You are the father of three wonderful children. They have turned out so well. What part did you play in that?

Bastian: You would have to ask my wife that question. I'm not sure that I should even say. I think we have been a fairly stable family. We were really committed to faith matters. Church was a regular part of the life of the children. We read the scriptures in the home. Maybe, most important, was the fact that my wife and I stood together on what we expected from our children and what we were willing to give them. After you have said all that, you have to say, this is the grace of God at work.

Herron: You wrote a book about fathering.

Bastian: Yes, The Joy of Christian Fathering. Actually, it is a compilation of five fathers who wrote narratively about what they did right and what they did wrong in raising children.

Herron: Don, you are now bishop of the church in Canada. How does the church and the spiritual needs of the people in Canada compare to those of people here in the United States?

Bastian: The Canadian psyche is subtly different from the American psyche. There are differences and, as I say, they are subtle. But, we are all under the same influences — the media, concepts that are propagated in the universities, etc. I would say that Canadians are probably a little more careful about telling their needs. They are not willing to be overwhelmed by people moving in to fix them. Nevertheless, they have the same kind of needs we have here in the United States.

There are very grave family problems in our world. I don't really see that much difference in terms of the actual realities in life.

Herron: As a bishop of the church, you deal with many pastors. What are the things that concern you most about pastors today?

Bastian: I think we need a generation of leaders. Too often pastors were trained to be managers. The church has picked up on that. Many times you will get a body, like a board, that feels its task is to direct the pastor. This really clips his wings. My own feeling is that we need to concentrate on raising a whole new generation of leaders to tie in with the good, solid dependable pastors that are out there. This would lead us into a new day.

Herron: What about the college students? You were a great pastor of a college church. Now you are in Canada. Do you see any difference in the Canadian college and university student than you discovered when you were counseling students here in America?

Bastian: I think it is the same thing I said earlier prevails; namely, that Canadian university and college students are not quite as quick to bare their hearts. Their problems are the same. For example, a recent study revealed the comprehensiveness of the drinking problem on the university campuses in Ontario. You and I know that when drinking is out of hand like this, it reflects a great emptiness. People need something to nourish or strengthen them. So, indeed, the problems are very acute.

Herron: What do you think the hope is for the church today?

Bastian: I think we have got to get back in the witness box. We are no longer the people who can say, "This is the way it is.' I think we have to take the witness stand and say, "Here is the Christian's point of view and this is what we are trying to live."

Herron: You have written so well in many articles and books. Do you have another book that you want to write? If so, what is it?

Bastian: It might surprise you, Orley. I would like to write a book on the subject of submission. It is a highly neglected subject. It is a subject that is really not in good taste, even in many Christian circles. In the scriptures, it is a very noble word. It needs to be looked at in terms of a concept that fits nicely in the twentieth century culture. I would like to write that book. In fact, I hope that is what I am going to do.

Herron: Could we see that book in another two years or so?

Bastian: Perhaps so. It is the master attitude of Christian living — submission. It is the master attitude in the home, the church and in society. It is not a groveling thing. It is a very beautiful thing, a characteristic of strength, the person who knows how to submit.

Herron: We have had a lot of scandal among television religious programming in America. Have you experienced any of that in Canada?

Bastian: We are very aware of what has happened. As you know, there is no border to television. We have David Mains' program in Canada. You probably know of it. David Mains is highly respected. His integrity is unquestioned. We do thank God for that.

Herron: There is a pretty open spirit to religious programming in Canada?

Bastian: I would say about the same as here. They tell us that mostly Christians watch Christian television. I would think that is the same on both sides of the border.

Herron: Don, if you had a second sermon to give us today, what would you have said?

Bastian: I would probably have had something to do with the family. Ever since I was in South Africa in 1972, I have been radicalized on the subject of the family. I came back knowing that what I thought was normal here in this part of the world is not normal at all. Therefore, I would probably have something to say about the Christian family.

Herron: Explain that more.

Bastian: In the early seventies, culture was really at odds. We were in great trouble. The generation gap was very real. You probably remember that even at Greenville you could hardly get into any committee meeting without finding there was tension between the generations. I guess I had picked up on the theory that children must rebel to grow up wholesomely. That was a pretty broadly propagated idea in the sixties and seventies. I went to South Africa, took part in a week-long mission event there and saw this missionary family where those conditions did not prevail. The lines not only ran horizontally, they ran vertically — grandparents and grandchildren. By the time I returned I said, "Hey, there is a better way." I've been talking about it ever since.