Blog

21 Oct

ADVENTISM’S SELF-IDENTITY – WHAT ARE WE?

In

I grew up in the Netherlands in a small village some 20 miles north of Amsterdam. The population was almost equally divided between Roman Catholics and Protestants. Most Protestants belonged to one of two denominations of the Calvinist variety. One lady, who lived a few doors away from us, converted to the Jehovah’s Witnesses. And then there were we!

It seemed that most people did not exactly know how to classify us. We were Seventh-day Adventists, which was a strange name people could hardly remember. But we seemed rather “normal”, except that we went to church in a nearby town on Saturdays and did not eat pork, did not smoke or use alcohol. A few, who had taken the trouble to consult an encyclopedia in search of some information on Adventists, were sure that we belonged to a peculiar sect, which did not only read the Bible but also looked to guidance from an American prophetess.

I must admit that as a child, and as a teenager, I felt quite ambivalent about being an Adventist. Why did we have to be so different? Could it really be true that our church was the only true one—as our parents told me and my siblings? When we occasionally visited regional, or even nationwide church meetings, I discovered that our community was not so small after all. And when, at a given moment, it was announced that Adventism, world-wide, had passed the one-million-member mark, it actually gave me a sense of pride to belong to something quite big!

How do we see ourselves?

Of course, we want to know how others around us look at Adventism. At the different organizational levels of our denomination, a PR department, which later developed into the Communication Department, was tasked with fostering a positive image for the church. Its message was, and still is: The Adventist Church is not a cult or sect at the fringe of Christianity, but a bona-fide Protestant denomination.

However, important it may be how others see us, there is the (at least as important) question of how we see ourselves. Who and what are we as Seventh-day Adventists? In some countries, Adventists long preferred to refer to themselves with words that translate into English as “community” or “congregation”. They felt the term “church” was too loaded with ritual and tradition and smelled too much of a stale past. In some places, the word “movement” has long been the preferred term. It was thought to express the ideal of being a dynamically growing world-wide faith community rather than a static organization that shows little or no “movement”. More recently, however, the use of the word “church” has also become more commonly accepted in those countries where it was earlier frowned upon.

Some Adventist mission experts have suggested that we should, perhaps, see ourselves as a world religion and not just as a part of Christianity. We are sufficiently unique, they claim, to warrant that label. Of course, in numbers, we cannot compare with such world religions as Islam, Buddhism or Hinduism, but the size of world-wide Adventism is about the same as that of the Sikhs or of Judaism, and these qualify as world religions. I have never been convinced that it would be a good idea to differentiate ourselves in this way from other Christians. In fact, I believe Adventists should always self-identify as Christians first, before pointing to themselves as Adventist Christians.

Church or sect?

Adventism has not yet completely shed its sectarian image, especially in areas in the world where it has so far numerically remained quite small. Many other Christians continue to see significant sectarian (or even cultic) traits in our church. However, most Adventists regard themselves as a church and not as a sect. So, let’s look a bit closer at the differences between a church and a sect.

Definitions of what a “sect” is differ very considerably. For most people, the term “sect” evokes rather negative associations. A sect, they say, is a religious group that turns secondary matters into main issues. This is, of course, a rather subjective approach, because who determines what is essential and what is not? Others claim that sects are the lice in the church’s pelt. Sects are mainly characterized by their critical attitude towards the “established” churches, without contributing anything significant themselves.

The famous German sociologist Max Weber (1864-1920) gave a definition that, over time, has been used as a basis for many other descriptions. Weber said that the church is a religious organization in which membership is determined primarily by tradition. In most cases one becomes a member of a church by birth. In a sect, on the other hand, membership is the conscious choice of the person joining the group. With many other denominations, Adventists reject such a definition, as they do not practice infant baptism, but baptize people who have themselves chosen to be baptized. Should that make them into a sect?

Often the word “sect” is used primarily for religious groups that are quite aggressive in their recruitment strategies and/or are strongly influenced by a powerful, charismatic leader (in which case one often tends to speak of a ‘cult’). Probably the most important characteristic of a sect is that their adherents are convinced that they are in sole possession of Truth.

Many religious communities have undergone a development whereby they slowly, but surely, lose their sectarian characteristics and, as a result, are no longer labeled as a “sect”. This has happened in many areas of the world with Seventh-day Adventists.

A Church or the church?

The word “church” can be used in many and varied ways. One frequent meaning is that of a “denomination.” The word “denomination” is derived from the Latin verb denominare, which simply translates as “giving a name to something”. Many (how many no one exactly knows) groups of Christians have organized themselves as separate denominations with a specific name. Thus, it is perfectly legitimate for us as Seventh-day Adventists to call ourselves a church. We are a denomination—a church—among thousands of different denominations or churches, large and small, all around the world.

But can we, with confidence, claim that we are not only a church, but rather the church that can self-identify as God’s remnant church? Are we the only church with full Truth? Are we the group that will form the nucleus of those who are going to be saved when the Lord returns?

To these questions, many others could be added. And to many of these questions, we do not yet know the answers. History tends to surprise us, and prophetic interpretations are not intended to give us precise predictions of how end-time events will turn out in every detail. One thing is, however, certain: it has never been official Adventist teaching that only members of our church will be saved. But Adventists do believe that their church has emerged as a community with a special message, with specific emphases that want to correct particular theological standpoints and to apply biblical principles to a number of lifestyle issues.

As Adventists think about their identity as a Christian body, they must always ensure that they build on the biblical view of the essence of “church”. Although the New Testament stresses the bond that unites all local Christian communities, and the fundamental fact that all believers, anywhere, are one in Christ and form a universal priesthood, the emphasis is consistently on the church as a congregation in a specific place. For the apostle Paul, the believers were “the saints in Rome” or “the saints in Ephesus”, etc. Translated to the twenty-first century, this means that, although an organizational system such as Adventists have adopted is useful and will facilitate the church’s mission outreach, the Adventist Church is not primarily the General Conference, the North American Division, or the Rocky Mountain Conference, etc. The Adventist Church is, first and foremost, the “saints” in the 80.000 or so local communities of Adventist believers.

Becoming a sect?

 Some time ago I read in my newspaper an interview with the Belgian Roman-Catholic Cardinal Jozef de Kessel, who has now been archbishop of Mechelen-Brussels for several years.[1] The 75-year-old Catholic leader comes across in the interview as an optimist, but also as a realist, and as a man with a strong faith. He acknowledges that the Catholic Church in Belgium is decreasing in size, but firmly believes that ‘a more modest church’ can be more ‘faithful to itself’ and to its vocation in the midst of today’s secular culture.

What particularly struck me in this interview were de Kessel’s comments about sects and sectarian characteristics. According to him, even a large church can in many ways be sectarian. The bishop is looking for a “confessing church that is carried forward by an inner core of active believers . . . But the church must remain open and avoid being focused on itself”. The interview concludes with this notable statement:

In a sect, you know exactly who is inside and who is outside. Moreover, a sect does not tolerate dissent. If you disagree with something you can go. So, you can be a majority church with sectarian traits, and you can be a smaller church with an open mind. It’s nice when the door of a church is open. When you enter, nobody asks: what are you doing here, why are you sitting here, why are you walking around here? Are you a believer or a non-believer? We must be a church that is open and welcoming, without imposing itself.

The cardinal’s words also apply to my church—the Seventh-day Adventist Church. With our twenty-two million members, we may have become a relatively large church. We may, over time and in most places, have shaken off the sectarian characteristics of the past, but the danger of reverting to some sectarian, or even cultic, traits always remains ‘a clear and present danger. In whatever terms we define our church, it must be an open church. It must be a church that is not just focused on itself but knows the problems and the language of the secular world around it. It must be a church that warmly receives all people without imposing itself. It must be a faith community where all are welcome.

Ask yourself: When I look at my church, do I see that kind of open, welcoming community? That remains the most important question.

Reinder Bruinsma, PhD, has served the Seventh-day Adventist Church in publishing, education, and church administration on three continents. He writes from the Netherlands where he lives with his wife Aafie. Among his latest books is I Have a Future: Christ’s Resurrection and Mine. Email him at: [email protected]  

[1]  Nederlands Dagblad, June 11, 2021.

21 Oct

OUT OF THE ADVENTIST SALT-SHAKER

In

I was speaking with a family who recently joined our church, having moved to Maine from another state, and I asked them what prompted them to move to our area, especially since they moved from a long way away and they had no family here.

Of course, Maine is a beautiful state with much to offer, so I’m not all that terribly surprised when people find their way here, but I’m especially intrigued when young Adventist families do so, especially ones who have no real connections to the area.

With little hesitation, the husband and wife explained that they had largely wanted to move away from the “Adventist bubble” they’d been a part of for well over a decade. There was much they appreciated about that Adventist community, especially since it provided a solid relational network and wonderful Christian fellowship and programming for their kids. But something was missing in their religious experience.

That something, mainly, was being a part of their non-Adventist community.

They had become so absorbed with and involved in all the great things that being a part of a larger Adventist community provides people, that they found it hard to immerse themselves in the much larger non-Adventist community just outside their door.

Of course, one doesn’t necessarily have to choose between the two. One can, theoretically, live in a community with a high concentration of Seventh-day Adventists and yet still be heavily involved with the (many more) non-Adventists in that community.

But as we all agreed during our conversation, it just seems like whenever one lives in close proximity to a community with a high concentration of Adventists—due to, say, an Adventist hospital or college or academy—it inevitably becomes a sort of vortex of activity and attention. It’s so easy to get sucked into and participate almost exclusively with all the Adventist stuff going on.

But is that the life we’re called to live?

It reminds me of another conversation I had with a friend of mine here in my city who is a Jewish rabbi, leading one of the three Jewish congregations in Bangor. One day, as we were talking, he somehow got to explaining how he fantasized about living in Israel. Despite having been born and raised in America, it would be a dream come true to live there, he told me.

“Why is that?” I wondered.

Because, he explained, it would be amazing to live in a place where everything was oriented around Judaism—to live in a country where just about everyone was Jewish; where everyone ordered their lives around the ways, customs, and culture of his faith.

It’s natural, of course, to gravitate towards peoples and communities that look like us, talk like us, think like us, eat like us, dress like us, believe like us. It’s very reassuring and comforting, giving us ample opportunity to participate in the practices and values that are most important to us.

But is that the life we’re called to live?

What if, instead, one of our core values was living with and participating in community that didn’t look like us, eat like us, dress like us, behave like us, and believe like us? What if we were so grounded in the gospel that our highest joy was surrounding ourselves with and being among people who are different than us?

That’s what my dream for Adventism would be—what it would look like if I could reimagine it.

In short, a church that wasn’t so enamored with and focused on itself, characterized by people who were so afraid of the outside world or so doggedly comfortable with just being with and listening to one another, that we, filled with the gospel, lived among and with the 99.9% of the population that comprises the rest of the world.

“In” not “of”?

 In Christ’s last prayer, as recorded by John, He explained that He didn’t hope His Father would take His disciples “out of the world.” He wanted them to remain in the world to participate in His mission. “I do not pray that You should take them out of the world,” He said, “but that You should keep them from the evil one” (John 17:15). A few verses later He further clarified: “As You sent Me into the world, I also sent them into the world” (v. 18).

This is where we get the popular idea that Christians should be “in the world” but not “of the world.”

Though such a phrase has probably reached the status of cliché, and there is seemingly quite a bit of truth to it, in my experience, it feels like most of the time it’s used, it emphasizes the latter part of it. Most of the people who I’ve heard cite this idea focus on the part where we should not be “of” the world. By this, it seems like they generally mean we shouldn’t listen to “worldly” music, watch “worldly” entertainment, or wear “worldly” clothes.

I don’t necessarily believe Jesus had that in mind though. While this is, in many ways, a whole other topic that deserves its own extended discussion, Jesus nowhere singles out such things as being “worldly.”  I think He was probably talking more about the attitudes and priorities of the heart, which can be expressed through any and all forms and styles of music, dress, and entertainment (one can be just as “worldly” when singing a hymn as when singing a contemporary worship song).

The point here though is that we don’t seem to spend as much time on the being “in the world” part. But Jesus made it clear: the disciples’ mission was to be in the world. Just as He had been sent into the world by His Father, He was sending the disciples as well.

A few years ago, I came across a thought from Ellen White that gives interesting insight into the way Jesus lived “in” the world. “Though He was a Jew, Jesus mingled freely with the Samaritans,” she explains, “setting at naught the Pharisaic customs of His nation. In face of their prejudices, He accepted the hospitality of this despised people. He slept with them under their roofs, ate with them at their tables, partaking of the food prepared and served by their hands, taught in their streets, and treated them with the utmost kindness and courtesy. And while He drew their hearts to Him by the tie of human sympathy, His divine grace brought to them the salvation which the Jews rejected” (The Ministry of Healing, p. 26).

Talk about being radically “in” the world! The Samaritans were despised religious outsiders to Jews. They were “unclean.” They weren’t good “Adventists.” And yet Christ stayed at their homes, ate their questionable food, and recognized and honored their dignity.

How does that align with your own life and practice?

Again, what if Adventism was so grounded in the reality of the gospel—so clear on how God, in Christ, “moved into the neighborhood,” as The Message renders John 1:14—that we felt secure enough to bust out of our Adventist bubbles and live with and among those who don’t share our customs, culture, or beliefs?

Such a posture wouldn’t require us to diminish our belief in and practice of the “truth.” On the contrary, it would actually be the precise outworking of that truth, recognizing that the gospel, and the Adventist understanding of the gospel, invites us to step into the lives of “every nation, tribe, tongue, and people” (Revelation 14:6).

During the course of my conversation with our new friends who’d moved to our area and joined our church, the wife explained to me that they actually wouldn’t be at our worship gathering the next Sabbath. “We’ve been invited by our neighbor to his harvest party,” she explained to me. “Everyone from the neighborhood is going to be there.” They had decided to forgo worshipping with church people in order to live out the gospel with non-church people.

I just got a big smile on my face. I loved it.

I think it’s critically important to gather with God’s people regularly. We need that fellowship and encouragement. But just as important as gathering with God’s people, as I understand it, is gathering with those who aren’t consciously God’s people. We are called to be salt, shaken out of the Adventist salt-shaker and into the world.

It’s a core value of our local congregation and the main reason why this young family decided to become members of our particular church. They know what we’re about (however imperfectly we execute it).

What would Adventism look like if I reimagined it?

Just that: Adventists, being so grounded in the gospel that they showed up to parties their non-Adventist neighbors put on, living as salt and light, instead of clinging together—either because they’re scared of the world or most comfortable with people who are just like them.

Shawn Brace is a pastor in Bangor, Maine, whose life, ministry, and writing focus on incarnational expressions of faith. The author of four books and a columnist for Adventist Review, he is also a DPhil student at the University of Oxford, focusing on nineteenth-century American Christianity. You can follow him on Instagram and Twitter @shawnbrace, and sign up for his weekly newsletter at shawnbrace.substack.com

21 Oct

JESUS: THE CHAMPION OF AUTHENTIC SPIRITUALITY

In

This topic explores the spiritual quality of discipleship in Christ’s well-known Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:1–12) and Ellen White’s description of the spiritual journey. The subject of spirituality unveils a plethora of perspectives, definitions, and practices. Reflecting on the amassing of existing landscapes, Richard Wolman maintained that “Spirituality in the contemporary culture is a designer spirituality, tailored to the needs of individual tastes and preferences.”[1] Yet, for many, spirituality provides an escape from the traditional form of religious practices bound by rules, traditions, demands for conformity, and a lack of authentic Christ-like attitudes.

Juliette Lee described her experience as follows: “The church was a highly hypocritical institution that preached about things like loving and accepting everyone, giving to those in need, and trusting God—because this is what Jesus did.”[2] Then, she touched on the core of the crucial problem. “Yet I saw and heard groups of women congregating in the back pews gossiping about each other; I saw those with the most to give cling to their wallets and look away; I saw people leave the church angry at God for the plans he was ruining. At the end of the day, the church succeeded in telling me who Jesus was and who I should be but failed to follow its own practice.”[3] The story is one of many I had heard from students in my classes and people in my pastoral ministry.

Such a scenario is not very different from the world Jesus embraced to engrave on the pathway of life the authentic nature of spiritual discipleship. Matthew’s gospel outlines the beginning of Christ’s Messianic ministry in the context of religious abuses devoid of spiritual authenticity. The broader context of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount addressed the superficial understanding of God’s principles. “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago […] but I tell you […]” (Matthew 5:21–22; 27:28; 33–32; 38–39; 43–44). He spoke against the superficial practice of religiosity, showmanship, and hypocrisy (Matthew 6:1–3; 16–18). He warned about the danger of judgmental attitudes (7:1–6). Instead, as He spoke to His disciples, the central theme of His teaching aimed to build a foundation for spiritual authenticity in God’s mission in the world (Matthew 4:18–21); namely, the spiritually transformational nature of discipleship.

Matthew’s narrative juxtaposes the spiritual hypocrisy with Christ’s call to discipleship: “Come follow me … and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19), between two purpose-oriented descriptions of His all-inclusive missional activity (Matthew 4:12–16;23–25). The impact of His sensitive attitude to human needs engendered a movement of attraction (Matthew 4:25). What followed is fascinating, inspirational, and thought-provoking. The descriptive narrative of Jesus’ ministry swayed attention from His successful activity to a reflective stopover that determined what truly matters in God’s mission in the world. He then began to teach the disciples (Matthew 5:1).

David Bosh argued that in Matthew, Jesus’ teaching is “by no means an intellectual enterprise,”[4] outlining specific details of successful methodology. He continued to suggest that Jesus’ teaching is not an “appeal primarily to the intellect; it is a call for a concrete decision to his listeners to follow him and to submit to God’s will … as revealed in Jesus’s ministry and teaching.”[5] For this purpose, the Beatitudes contrast with the aforementioned religious practices and highlight the spiritual and transformational nature of discipleship.

The Beatitudes and the Spiritual Nature of Discipleship

The structure of the Beatitudes draws attention to a specific objective. First, Jesus positioned the qualities of discipleship, the poor in spirit, the meek, the pure in heart, and the persecuted (Matthew 5:3,5,8,10) in the secure space of the kingdom of heaven–“theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3,10). Millard Erickson argued that Matthew used “heaven” as a synonym for the Kingdom of God in writing to a Jewish audience.[6] The four Beatitudes expressed in the present active voice placed discipleship in the space of God’s life-transforming activity and secure assurance of the gift–the Kingdom of God.

George Eldon Ladd described the presence of God’s kingdom as follows: “Instead of making changes in the external and political order of things, it is making changes in the spiritual order, and in the lives of men and women.”[7] Furthermore, the specific focus on the kingdom of God uplifted the disciples’ minds to the future hope of inheriting the earth (Matthew 5:5) and the anticipated joy of seeing God (Matthew 5:8). The listed qualities of discipleship entrenched in a relational connection to Jesus (Matthew 5:10,11) stood in direct conflict with the distorted values and practices espoused by human traditions and religiosity and with the distorted view of God outlined in Matthew chapters 5–7.

In this context, Christ’s reference to the poor in spirit denoted a life empty of self; meekness, the attitude of complete trust in God’s providence; and the pure in heart, the quality of spiritual authenticity. The enumerated characteristics of discipleship collided with the superficial nature of religious practices, devoid of a sensitive response to human needs. No wonder Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people insult you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me” (Matthew 5:11). Nevertheless, Christ’s Beatitudes highlight another aspect of spiritual discipleship.

The Beatitudes and the Transformational Nature of Discipleship

 A careful reading of the Beatitudes demonstrates that the character of the four other Beatitudes seems somewhat different: (a) Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted (Matthew 5:4); (b) Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled (Matthew 5:6); (c) Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy (Matthew 5:7); and (d) Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God (Matthew 5:9).

The last part of each Beatitude, expressed in a passive voice, suggests that those who mourn, thirst, and hunger due to spiritual emptiness, become the recipients of the blessings proceeding from the object of their adoration, God. Consequently, the qualities mentioned earlier—poverty in spirit, meekness, and purity of heart—defined as self-emptying and openness to be filled with the sensitivity of spiritual authenticity, are shaped by the overflowing abundance of God’s grace and love (Romans 5:1–5).

The spirit of meekness enables disciples to comprehend and have a share in the full measure of God’s protective care (Matthew 6:25–26). The transformational dynamism of God’s love endows them with the spirit of mercy and a secure identity as God’s adopted sons and daughters (Matthew 5:7,9). The described transformational process prepares Christ’s followers to step into the world of human brokenness as peacemakers and healers transformed by God’s grace (2 Corinthians 5:16–21).

Referring to the spiritually transformed nature of discipleship, Johannes Verkuyl asserted, “To become a disciple of Jesus involves sharing with him his death and joining him on the march to the final disclosure of his messianic reign.”[8] In Christ’s teaching from the mountain, discipleship is not presented as a production line or methodology designed primarily to initiate an exponential growth of God’s kingdom. Instead, His teachings unfold the view of what matters to God—an all-inclusive and sensitive response to human needs role-modelled by Jesus. Note the overwhelming attraction generated by Jesus’ ministry—Jesus, the champion of authentic spirituality. “Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and the region across the Jordan followed him” (Matthew 4:25).

The Inspirational Focus of Spiritual Discipleship

In 1894, Ellen White wrote in Sign of the Times an interesting reflection on “the progress to be made in the spiritual journey and many lessons to be learned from Christ, the Great Teacher.” Her description is fascinating and challenging. “Could our spiritual vision be opened, we should see that which would never be effaced from memory as long as last should last.”[9]

What follows challenged my view of life and ministry. It challenged me to ask: “Am I spiritually blind that I do not see what matters to God?” Her words touched on the very essence of spiritual discipleship. “We should see souls bowed under oppression, loaded with grief, and pressed down as a cart beneath the sheaves, and ready to die in discouragement. We should see angels flying swiftly to aid the tempted ones who stand as on the brink of a precipice.” More so, she delineates the challenging view of God’s presence in action. “These souls are unable to help themselves and avoid the ruins that threaten them, but the angels of God are forcing the evil angels, and guiding the souls from the dangerous places, to plant their feet on a sure foundation.”

Is it conceivable that the frantic rush of producing discipling resources to devise ways of achieving success induces spiritual myopia that hinders us from seeing what God cares about?

Conclusive Reflection

 Perhaps it is time to climb the mountain to catch a gestalt of human suffering, injustice, abuse, and enslavement—the real world. Perhaps it is time for the church to reflect on itself to recapture the passion of spiritually authentic discipleship that touches the brokenness of human life with the inspiring presence of God (Matthew 6: 25–34), and Jesus, the champion of spiritual authenticity and healing.

John Skrzypaszek, DMin, a retired director of the Ellen White/Seventh-day Adventist Research Centre, is an adjunct senior lecturer at Avondale University College, Coranboong, NSW, Australia. Polish by birth, John takes a keen interest in heritage, spirituality, and identity studies. He is married to Brenda and has two sons Raphael and Luke. Email him at: [email protected]

 [1] Richard N. Wolman, Thinking with Your Soul: Spiritual Intelligence and Why it Matters (New York: NYL Harmony Books, 2001), 21.
[2] Juliette Lee, “Why I am More Spiritual than Religious,” Spectrum (May 15, 2017).
[3] Ibid.
[4] David Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shift in Theology of Mission (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1995), 66.
[5] Ibid.
[6] Millard Erickson, Christian Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker House), 1226.
[7] George Eldon Ladd, “The Gospel of the Kingdom.” In Perspectives in the World Christian Movement, edited by Ralph D. Winter and Steven C. Hawthorne, A-69. Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library, 1922.
[8] Johannes Verkuyl, “The Biblical Foundation for the Worldwide Mission Mandate.” In Perspectives in the World Christian Movement, edited by Ralph D. Winter and Steven C. Hawthorne, A-62. Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library, 1922.
[9] Ellen White, “To Abide in Christ the Will Must Be Surrendered,” Signs of the Times 20, no. 51 (October 29, 1894): 3.

21 Oct

DEATH, OR SOMETHING LIKE IT

In

Another woman died because she wore her hijab incorrectly.

I saw that in the news this week. It’s outrageous. It’s insane. It’s utterly evil.

This is not a statement against God or the many people who practice Islam. It’s a statement about the people who have stopped seeing God and instead are protecting their own comfort and hiding their own spiritual and moral insecurities.

We could make that same statement about any established religious group. This was just the most recent example of that reality at the time I wrote this.

Let me state this less clearly. I have no problem with Islam. And, I have every problem with Islam. Also, I have no problem with Christianity. And, I have every problem with Christianity.

By extension, I have no problem with Adventism. And, I have every problem with Adventism.

What do I mean by any of that? It sounds like a paradox that can’t possibly be true.

Maybe. Or maybe, to quote Obi Wan Kenobi “What I told you was true, from a certain point of view.”

Let’s try it this way. There is the Adventist-based faith and practice of a single believer. And then there is the corporate mandate of the Adventist organization. One is a person whose faith was informed by Adventism, who then went on and grew and found connection with God and became something more beyond that which sparked the journey. The other is a group that not only refuses to move beyond that beginning but punishes those who try to grow and become more than Adventism was designed to contain.

“So, Tony, I’m not sure that was less unclear.”

Ok, fine.

Jesus picked food to eat on the Sabbath. Acts 15 created a clear path for a completely alternate set of beliefs for different “Christians”. Paul later altered it even more when he told one group to do a thing and another group to not do the same thing. Everything about the New Testament grinds the idea of uniform belief AND practice into dust.

And yet, people in Adventism are still excommunicated for not practicing the Sabbath the way someone else decided they should. Others are removed from fellowship for eating or drinking the wrong thing. People are chastised and punished for wearing the wrong thing, or listening to the wrong thing, or watching the wrong thing.

And that’s just in THIS country. No, it’s not universal. But it IS still allowed to happen. And THAT is a failure. The fact that if you were born with your genitals on the inside instead of the outside means you’re considered less than in Adventism, which suggests Adventism has failed. If the color of your skin dictates your place and value in your Adventist faith community, and it still does in some places, Adventism has failed.

“But Tony, sometimes things happen locally that the organization doesn’t condone.”

True. And, they also haven’t taken the steps to stop it, AND some of it they do condone.

“But Tony, if someone is going to be part of a group, shouldn’t they obey the rules of the group?”

That’s a fair point. Now, ask me what the purpose of the group was supposed to be? Is the purpose of the group to defend the group? Or was it supposed to launch people on their way to a connection with God that leads them down a path of God’s choosing?

When I was told the theme of articles, we were all asked to write about, I liked it. It’s the correct question: Reimagining/Redefining Adventism and what that looks like.

And the very fact that we are asking that question means we’ve failed. It’s the correct question AND it’s the wrong question. We are asking that question because we all know things have gone off the rails. It’s the wrong question because we shouldn’t have to be asking it.

The moment we start saying things like “That’s not the Adventist way” or “Adventism believes…” or “How do we fix Adventism…” we’ve ignored a very important point.

It’s not about Adventism. It illustrates that we have made Adventism the point and the goal, and no matter how we say it and justify it, we are trying to defend a group and its beliefs.

But if we are growing with the spirit, that will be a moving target. We will be ever changing as our understanding is ever changing and we will never need to, or want to, defend a static system of practice.

If we are doing it right, we will never care about what Adventism is or what it needs to be because we will be so focused on God and being part of that connection, it simply won’t matter. We only defend the basic set of practices and thoughts because it’s warm and comfy there. There is no need to stretch and grow. It’s the soft recliner we sit in while we watch our favorite show.

Safe, entertaining (maybe), and tells us exactly what we want to hear to ensure we never strive beyond our chair. It validates our worldview, but never forces us to reexamine it and change it.

Jesus challenged everything. Adventism challenges nothing. Adventism is focused on maintaining Adventism. Jesus was focused on changing lives, empowering those lives, and setting them free from the borders other people want to place them in.

Christ didn’t make Christianity. People did. Christ wanted to show people a better way. Therefore, its first followers were called Wayists. Followers of The Way. But then people codified it, stamped it into law, and here we are wondering why no one gets along.

The only way for Adventism to succeed, is for Adventism to die.

Or, at least, die to what it is. Just like the followers of Jesus, Adventism must die and be reborn. We must stop trying to make it look like something and stop trying to keep it looking like it used to. For Adventism to succeed, it must become a place that has nothing to do with Adventism, and everything to do with supporting people as they seek God and follow God’s lead WHEREVER it takes them, even when it results in that person’s life looking very different than old Adventism would have allowed for.

Because it isn’t about Adventism.

It’s about God leading a person and people regardless of if anyone else likes it.

Because if it isn’t about that, we should just pack up and go home. Otherwise, we will do nothing more than argue about Hijabs and food and Sabbath “rules”.

There is a quote from 2013’s “Man of Steel”. “What if a child dreamed of becoming something other than what society had intended? What if a child aspired to something greater?”

Or said this way…

What if God led a person to become something other than what Adventism had intended? What if that person could become something greater?

We need to stop placing limits on what God can do and what people can be. We don’t know what we are doing, and Adventism needs to accept that.

We need to get out of the way and let God show us what can really be done.

Tony Hunter is a Seventh-day Adventist pastor and a hospice chaplain working for Gateway Hospice in Northern Colorado. Tony, his wife Nirma, and daughter Amryn live in Firestone, Colorado. Email him at: [email protected]

21 Oct

MELT AND FLOW

In

One of my favorite books from graduate school wasn’t even required. I found it by following a footnote to an appendix and a book review, and thence to the full citation and to the card catalog at my graduate school library, and finally to the shelf. This was years before the Internet and the process of tracking down information could be tedious at times, but if you were simply following a whim, the search itself could be a treasure hunt.

The book was Models of the Church, by Avery Dulles, S.J., a survey of historical metaphors for the church and how they have shaped the Church and its practices.

I found it fascinating because it gave me a visually stimulating index card that I could carry in memory. The models functioned as bins that I could toss ideas into, empty out occasionally or transfer questions, skepticisms, and enthusiasms back and forth between them.

Avery Dulles–who became a cardinal between the first and second editions of the book–suggests there are two types of models. Explanatory models synthesize what is known and believed; exploratory models open our thinking to new possibilities. He gives us five historical models that have described and shaped the Church through history: Institution, Mystical Communion, Sacrament, Herald, and Servant, and adds his own–Community of Disciples.

Dulles proved to be eclectic in his tastes and ecumenical in his reach. He provided the models to all Christians, not just Catholics, in the hope that they would prompt discussion and practical use by academics, pastors, and laypeople.

Early in life I discovered I could remember ideas and concepts easier if I could put an image to them. I also found that I had an odd propensity (or was it a compulsion?) to associate an image or a person with a recurring and routine activity that I did every day at the same time. Sometimes there was no conscious link that I could see between the persons and the activity, they just popped up on my mental screen.

This still happens to me. When I shave, I hear myself answering the question of my seven-year-old son as to why I lather up. I lean over to turn on the shower tap and an image of a friend from high school comes into view. I water the plants in the garden and hear my grandfather’s tips on watering. I’m on my hands and knees, clearing away volunteers between the established plants and I hear a woman I worked for as a teenager proclaiming, “A plant out of place is a weed.”

I’m a creature of habit, believing that certain tasks can be trained into muscle memory and into the humming little centers of automation in my brain, thus freeing up the vast open spaces there for more imaginative, more interesting things. Now and then, this gets me into trouble when habits become ruts and ruts cause the little mining cars of blind knowledge to overrun some needed action because the operator is asleep at the switch.

One of my earliest models of the Adventist church was abstract until I gave it an image. My grandparents, stalwart Adventists who had both converted as young adults–my grandfather from the Church of England and my grandmother from generic Protestantism on Vancouver Island–often spoke of Adventism as being “the Truth.” This made little sense to me at the time, but it had the advantage of stickiness. Later, I thought of the monolith from “2001: A Space Odyssey,” as the image most appropriate for this abstraction: self-contained, enigmatic, unbreakable, and conducive to violence in the wrong hands.

Another common phrase was “the [Adventist] Church will go through to the end,” conjuring images of enormous snowplows or battering rams or a ship steady on course carrying hundreds through a gale at sea.

My experience of model-making is not unique. We humans are meaning-makers and metaphor-eaters. We leap from one image to another in conversation as from one ice floe to the next. To change the metaphor slightly, some images are so easily grasped and understood that they become solid bridges over which thousands travel daily. They make communication easier. As symbols they can be molded, shaped, and compressed to contain multiple meanings that can be triggered by the mere mention of the word in the right context.

Clinging to one model to the exclusion of the others leads to distortion, says Dulles, but he notes that when a particular model seems to answer several problems and promises to clarify yet unknown difficulties, it becomes a paradigm, capable of containing whole systems of thought, processes, and actions.

I see the Institutional model as dominant among many administrators in the Adventist Church. It presents a hierarchical structure with the members passively receiving the authoritative decisions of “the ruling class.” To a lesser extent, the church as Herald is also current. This model emphasizes mission and proclamation over against Mystical Communion and the church as Sacrament. The power here resides in the word preached and taught.

Models arise in context, however, and contexts can differ. Friction between them comes from holding historical models that cannot meet current needs or that conflict with other models. The Servant model, one that many progressives in the church seem to hold, sits uneasily with the Institutional and Herald models. It takes a dialogical position with the world, it calls for modeling the church after Jesus’ teachings, and emphasizes justice and mercy over proclamation and mission.

Dulles offers the Discipleship model as the church community set apart from the world and yet deeply in tune with its needs. It incorporates the best of the previous five models and tries to avoid the worst. Disciples are servants who work within a structure that is both a mystical communion and a sacrament. Proclaiming is but one part of its work in the world.

I offer another model complementary to discipleship. It is a via negativa, revealing something important by what it is not. It is not hierarchical nor authoritarian. It emphasizes change, transition, adaptation, and naturalism.

My model of the church is an ice cube on a hot sidewalk. As it melts it slides smoothly along until the bulk of the ice is transformed into liquid. Eventually, the liquid evaporates, completing the cycle from solid to liquid to gas.

I intend by this model that the calcified institutional form of the church should transmute into a flowing community of local churches and their members, and then in due time, be absorbed into the life of the Spirit in the full transfiguration of all things. Innovation begins at the root.

In tandem with the discipleship community, the ice-cube model suggests the church as a hierarchical institution will, of necessity, give way to local churches in fellowship with each other to provide the water of life to their own contextual communities. And when the final day comes, the community of disciples will be drawn up by the Spirit, together with all those whom God has called from every nation, religion, tongue, and people. “And thus, we shall be together with the Lord.”

Barry Casey has published in Adventist Society for the Arts, Brevity, Faculty Focus, Lighthouse Weekly, Mountain Views, Patheos, Spectrum Magazine, The Dewdrop, and The Purpled Nail. His collection of essays, Wandering, Not Lost: Essays on Faith, Doubt, and Mystery, was published by Wipf and Stock in November 2019. He writes from Burtonsville, Maryland. Email him at [email protected]

21 Oct

WHAT IF…?

In

I didn’t win the $1.337 billion Mega Millions lottery.

I’ll bet you didn’t either.

I would assume, though, that many of us played the “what if…” game.

The first thing I would do if I won a huge lottery, of course, would be to pay my tithe and give a generous offering to the church. I have been assured by more than one pastor that the church would gladly accept my ill-gotten gains.

Next, I’d take care of my children and grandchildren. I like Warren Buffett’s philosophy on this–give them “enough money so that they would feel they could do anything, but not so much that they could do nothing.”

Then I’d work on building a bigger library in my basement.

Finally, I’d probably tell my wife I’d won some money, just to see if there was anything she wanted.

I don’t think anybody really expects to win the lottery, but it is fun to play “what if….”

Well, “what if…” you could significantly change, or even start the Adventist church all over again today? I mean it in the sense that an appellate court hears a case de novo.  That means that as we play this mental game, in addition to what we know now, we assume we have all the knowledge and understanding available to us that were present when the church was originally established, but we start again, brand new.

The world has changed dramatically since our church was founded, but has the church?  Should it?

In the mid- to late-1800s, the birth and growth of the Seventh-day Adventist Church was powerfully influenced by the current events. Notwithstanding renewed interest in the second coming of Christ, manifested most prominently in America by William Miller and his date-specific predictions, the predominant Christian belief was in the imminent establishment of Christ’s kingdom on earth, with the promise of a thousand years of righteousness, peace, and prosperity.

The knowledge of medicine was rudimentary. Most medical facilities were tuberculosis sanitaria, or glorified health spas for the rich and famous. Most “educated” physicians were the products of relatively short courses at proprietary diploma mills.

Poverty and civil unrest in the new Kingdom of Italy, and the Potato Famine in Ireland, sent a wave of unwelcome Roman Catholic immigrants to the “Protestant” United States. In 1888, the American Sabbath Union was formed by representatives from major Protestant denominations (It continues as The Lord’s Day Alliance and is an ecumenical Christian first-day Sabbatarian organization that lobbies for the passage of Sunday-rest laws). It had some very powerful congressional champions in the late 1800s.

Into this environment came a new church. It addressed these social, political, and theological positions aggressively, but not always winsomely. It espoused the soon return of Christ, a radical dietary and health message, and the seventh day of the week as the true biblical Sabbath. It accused the Roman Catholic Church and “apostate” Protestantism of attempting to break down the wall of separation between church and state. This defiant organization had the temerity to clothe itself in the mantle of the Three Angels’ Message of Revelation, and to call itself the Remnant Church. It claimed it did so with the endorsement of a last-day prophet.

In response, mainstream denominations labelled it a legalistic, quasi-Christian cult.

Religion in America is much more diverse today. The three major religious traditions in most states are Catholicism, white evangelical Protestantism, and the religiously unaffiliated. The controversial theological and political issues facing many churches are now same-sex marriage, abortion, the role of women in ministry, public funding of private religious schools, and immigration reform. To many of the unchurched, “Christianity” and “evangelical” are words of contempt and derision.

How has Adventism responded to these changes?

It really hasn’t. It appears that the things for which we are still best known to the public, in no particular order, are: (1) an emphasis on last-day events, the second coming of Christ, and a day of judgment; (2) a concentration on health; (3) worshipping on Saturday instead of Sunday; and (4) having a founding prophet.

For the most part, those to whom I speak think we Adventists make good neighbors, but they are rather confused about Adventism. They usually know about our hospital systems. They believe we are all non-smoking, teetotalling vegetarians. They know little about our religious beliefs, and are either unaware of, or are too polite to mention, our rather embarrassing beginnings. A few still aren’t sure if we’re Christian. The majority vaguely remember that we had a prophet, but they’re not sure if it was Joseph Smith or Mary Baker Eddy.

So, what if…?

This game is not new, nor is it original with me. Many Adventist thought leaders have been playing it for years. George Knight and William G. Johnsson, among others, have written extensively on the subject. If you haven’t heard, or read, some of their reflections and projections, it is probably because they are so painful that they have not been widely disseminated. It is not easy to admit we might need to change, or that we are a deeply divided church. Change implies error, which is particularly embarrassing for us.  We have boasted for years about our “remnancy” and have preached that we are the ones who will in perfect unity finally and perfectly reflect the character of Christ to the world.

When we speak about possible flaws in today’s Adventist church, we usually focus on organizational, administrative, or doctrinal issues. But if I could change the Adventist church, I wouldn’t start by changing its fundamental beliefs (much) or its administrative and organizational structure (much). I also wouldn’t begin by addressing the major controversial religious and political issues facing Christianity today. While each of those arenas may need to eventually be addressed, I believe our primary problem is much more basic–we are viscerally afraid of God.

We whistle in the dark, and pretend we are not really afraid, but our presentations of last-day events, the day of judgment, Christ’s work in the heavenly sanctuary, the second coming of Christ, and the final destruction of the wicked are dripping with fear.  In the short term, fear may work well as a motivator, and may be necessary for immediate survival. Over a longer period, however, it is usually detrimental to performance, relationships, and well-being. A constant state of fear causes chronic stress, and eventually either breaks one’s body and spirit or leads to a complete disregard of important warnings. We’ve all heard recalcitrant smokers say, “Well, we’re all going to die of something, it might as well be lung cancer.”

If I could change the church, I would change its focus.

I would focus it on what Jesus said His mission was. Both the Bible and our prophet claim He came to show us the true character of the Father. That was the basic problem of sin in the first place—we, as creatures, did not trust God or believe He had our best interests at heart. The serpent in the garden claimed the Creator had lied to us, and that He was holding us back from our full inherent potential. We literally fell for the shiny object–a beautiful, shimmering, miraculously talking snake. Since then, because of our lack of trust in God, we have taken the gifts He gave us to help reconcile us back to Him and have legalistically either turned them into heavy ritualistic burdens or made them into objects of worship themselves.

The legalistic solution to this problem is to attempt to either appease our angry God or somehow buy His forgiveness. The biblical solution is to learn to trust Him.

To trust God, we must first find Him trustworthy. This was Christ’s whole mission on earth. In the upper room, Christ reminded the disciples that in His life and work on earth, He had irrefutably revealed the loving and trustworthy character of the Father to the universe. Moreover, He told them He was going to die as if He was a sinner to demonstrate that the Father had not lied about sin leading to death. If this led us back to trust, there was no need for us to die.

Our primary mission should be spreading the Good News that God can be trusted and that He is searching for friends whom He, in turn, can unconditionally trust for eternity with infinite freedom. To become such friends, we must believe that He can heal all that is wrong with us. That is a promising message of love, and love obliterates fear.

It might be well for us Adventists to remember that we are not the first Sabbath-keeping, tithe-paying, Bible-believing people with rigorous dietary restrictions and prophetic “proof” that we are God’s special people. I imagine there were many colorful, wall-sized charts, graphs, and beast-filled illustrations predicting a glorious future for Israel that went up in flames in Jerusalem in 70 C.E.

Mark Johnson, MD, is a retired public health physician and the chairman of the Boulder Vision Board. Email him at [email protected]

21 Oct

WHAT WE DO WITH WHAT WE DON’T (KNOW)

In

As churches and denominations, we tend to spend quite a bit of time writing down, debating, defining, and then re-defining what we say we believe. In our faith community, our core statement of doctrine is the “28 Fundamental Beliefs.” But for such a large number of “fundamentals,” it is surprising how much of what is core to our faith and faithful living is mentioned only briefly or even not at all.

And then there are all the things we actively disbelieve. A few years ago, one of my assigned textbooks for a class in systematic theology was a book that set out to define Christian faith by what we do not believe about life, God and faith.[1] It’s an interesting approach and there is some value in clearing away some of our misnomers and assumptions—and stating those things explicitly—but at 400 pages, it is not such a snappy way of describing or sharing what we believe or a guiding framework for what it means to live well.

But for all we specify about what we do believe and what we don’t—after all, we do spend a bit of time in some parts of our faith community critiquing the different beliefs of others—perhaps our most defining attitude is what we do with uncertainty, the things we don’t know. In “an increasingly unpredictable, complex world, it turns out that what matters most isn’t IQ, willpower, or confidence in what we know. It’s how we deal with what we don’t understand.”[2]

Informed and good thinking, determination and a sense of assurance are valuable to a credible faith, but what we do with what we don’t know might be more important for sustainable faith and what our faith might offer to others. As 1 Peter 3:15 put it, we might be ready to explain our faith, but verse 16 counsels that this must be done “in a gentle and respectful way.”[3]This calls for something more than a well delineated list of what we do—or don’t—believe. It is a call to live and believe with humility, courage and curiosity.

Humility

In a personal letter, C S Lewis—writer, Christian apologist and long-time tutor at Oxford University—summed up this important goal of his teaching: “One of my main efforts as a teacher has been to train people to say those (apparently difficult) words ‘we don’t know.’”[4] Those “apparently difficult” words don’t come easily to any of us—and perhaps even less easily to people of faith, those who feel like they ought to have the answers.

But to admit “I don’t know” is an important spiritual discipline that we need to practice, precisely because it does not come easily. “Yes, we know that ‘we all have knowledge’ about this issue,” wrote Paul to people who did know how to answer the specific question. “But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church. Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much” (1 Corinthians 8:1, 2).

Humility is not trying to doubt things we know and firmly believe, but it is to honestly admit when we don’t and that there is often some margin between. If we can simply answer that we don’t know, we are relieved of the burden of knowing the answers and respecting the person whom we might otherwise be trying to convince of something we, ourselves, are not certain about.

Courage

It takes courage to admit that “all that I know now is partial and incomplete” (1 Corinthians 13:12) and then to seek to live well, as if our lives depended on it—because they do. But whatever we believe, most of us still must get out of bed tomorrow morning and make countless choices throughout the day, some of which might seem inconsequential but many that might cost us something and all of which will compound into a much larger life trajectory. All of which is decided with incomplete knowledge, human inconsistencies, and growing fatigue.

Yet so many of us keep doing it. If we were truly certain about everything, life would require little courage. But we keep showing up, even when it might not make sense. We courageously do things we don’t have to do and when we can never be sure of their outcome. We are brave when we are kind and still more courageous when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable.

Curiosity

What we don’t know and what we don’t understand are also an invitation to curiosity. Honest humility about our incomplete knowledge is not a cause for shame, but an opportunity for wonder. There will always be more for us to learn, create, discover, and grow. Curiosity should be a practice of our faith—in a God who made us and our world, in our recognition that the world is not what it was intended to be, in our hope for a world that will be redeemed and re-created.

By its beauty and its tragedy, by its wonder and its brokenness, our world is riddled with questions, urgencies, and possibilities. “They are an invitation to engage in an apologetic that is more concerned with ‘gentleness and respect’ than merely ‘giving an answer.’ They are an indication that Christian apologetics must shift its approach from having all the answers, to being present in the questions.”[5] One of the greatest gifts we can give—to our world, to others—is our curiosity and attention.

We live on fertile ground for humility, courage, and holy curiosity. What we don’t know or struggle to understand offers us the space to be most human and most faithful. More than further refining or adding to our doctrinal statements, whatever we might be for or against, our faith must be shaped by our listening and living. And the invitation we can most usefully offer to others is to join in with this incomplete project of humbly and courageously learning, discovering, and working together. What we do with what we don’t know is what makes our faith most real.

Nathan Brown is a writer and editor at Signs Publishing near Melbourne, Australia. His Christmas devotional book Advent: Hearing the Good News in the Story of Jesus’ Birth is great for seasonal reading and gifting. Email him at: [email protected]

[1] Christopher Morse, Not Every Spirit: A Dogmatics of Christian Disbelief (2nd edition, T & T Clark, 2009).
[2] Jamie Holmes, Nonsense: The Power of Not Knowing (Crown, 2016).
[3] Bible quotations are from the New Living Translation.
[4] “To Father Peter Milward, September 26, 1960,” Letters of C S Lewis (Harcourt Brace, 1993).
[5] Daniel Montañez, “From Truth to Trust: Reimagining the Future of Christian Apologetics,” The Anxious Bench, <https://www.patheos.com/blogs/anxiousbench/2022/08/from-truth-to-trust-reimagining-the-future-of-christian-apologetics>.

21 Oct

CAN INSPIRED PEOPLE MAKE MISTAKES?

In

THE CLOSETS Having come into Adventism from the outside world, there are some distinct advantages. That is to say, in the area of assumptions. I do not have multiple generations to point back to. As a matter of reality, no one in my extended family had ever heard of Adventism. Therefore, I was not weaned upon Ellen White. And so, the glasses that I use have a different set of assumptions than those whose inner child is dominated by their parents’ version of Ellen White.

Now, don’t get me wrong. When I came into the church, I devoured her writings. I finished the entire Conflict series within three months before I was even baptized. Her views were broad and profound. I was like a soul lost in the desert of this world’s confusion. She helped me comprehend the breadth of the whole plan of redemption from Eden lost to Eden restored.

I was so blown away by the message of Jesus’ soon coming, I started giving my own Bible studies on Daniel and Revelation before I’d even finished my own baptism. Within my first few years as an Adventist, I listened to our entire church tape library of sermons (which consisted of around a thousand tapes). This helped expose me to all the great preachers and teachers like Brooks, Richard, Maxwell, Venden, and Halverson. I was so zealous, I even read many of the pioneers’ own writings! I became a devout Seventh-day Adventist, giving 150% commitment to the Lord.

But unfortunately, I was also exposed to all the skeletons in the church’s closet and the critical spirit that often goes along with it. The deeper I dove, the less I was becoming like Jesus, and the more I was becoming like Saul–“If anyone else thinks he has grounds for confidence in the flesh, I have more.” Phil 3:4 (CSB). And nowadays with the Internet, any Adventist can find the motherlode of denominational laundry. 1850, 1870’s, 1888, 1905, 1919, 1957, 1980, etc. And these issues inevitably cluster around Ellen White.

It all reminds me of my Finnish grandmother’s survivalist stew called, Mojakka (pronounced moy-yuk-ah with emphasis on the “yuk” part when you’re a kid). Her recipe was basically, throw giant chunks of everything in the pot and cook it to death. And sadly, the Seventh-day Adventist church’s closets are packed to bursting with nepotism, semantics, polemics, revisionism, and apologetic gymnastics, all an effort to avoid the complex questions raised about her theology. And the greatest sin of all these histories that no one is talking about? The trail of wounded souls who have often left God altogether because of the “yuk”.

So, if you really want to save your children, and save the church, then it’s well beyond time for some transparency, to open the closet and let whatever comes out tumble into the full light of accountability. Because if we don’t, the church won’t survive the raw truth (or even the fabrications) of the Internet. So, hang on to your hats, because this is going to get bumpy.

OMNISCIENCE Among those most revered in the Judeo-Christian faith were the prophets. And rightly so, as a prophet is defined by Webster as: “one who utters revelations”, and “the final authoritative revealer of God’s will.” They are the ones who communicate with God directly. So, in a sense, to disagree with a prophet is like disagreeing with God. But there are many over the centuries that have “profited” as prophets.

Which is why there are many specific signs of a true prophet found in Scripture. Such as the one I want to discuss today in Deuteronomy 18:21-22. It basically says, “if their predictions do not come to pass, that prophet is not from God”. And so, to ask the question, “Can inspired people make mistakes?” may seem like a bit of a misnomer.

Yet, there is a curious exchange between the disciples of the prophet John and Jesus in Matthew 11. In vs 2-4, “John the Baptist, who was in prison, heard about all the things the Messiah was doing. So, he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, ‘Are you the Messiah we’ve been expecting, or should we keep looking for someone else?’” In response, Jesus healed loads of people and then said, “John is more than a prophet, he is a messenger sent to announce the My coming”. And then in vs 11 He says, “I tell you the truth, of all who have ever lived, none is greater than John the Baptist!”

So according to Jesus, he is the greatest prophet that ever lived. the “messenger” meant to prepare the people for the advent of the Savior! So, what did John do as this “chosen one”? He sent his disciples to question if Jesus was even the Messiah?! Wait, what? Why? I would argue that it was because his theology was influenced by his environment. The Jews had mistakenly mixed the prophecies of the glory of the second Advent and completely missed the humility and suffering of the first. Think about it! What this implies is that the greatest prophet that ever lived, the messenger of the Lord, had bad theology! John had mistaken theology because his thinking was confused by the theological beliefs of his culture.

So, did Jesus reject the Baptist as a prophet because he had errors in his theology? No, rather Jesus doubled down on his gift! Don’t miss the most important point: Jesus still commended John and considered him inspired even with bad theology! Why? Because being inspired, and being omniscient, are not the same thing. Omniscience, infallibility, and inerrancy are defined as, “Universal complete knowledge. The capacity to know EVERYTHING.” And that gift belongs solely to God alone! We, as human beings, are erring, Spirit-led yes, but erring children, up to our necks in something we only barely comprehend.

And that is exactly why I love God so much! Because in the latter half of Matthew 11:11 it says, “…Even the least person in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he is!” Wow! What a statement. In the eyes God, a repentant addict, struggling parent, or a check-out clerk, are greater than a prophet in God’s kingdom! How beautiful is our God! We can see this same principle in Hebrews 11:28-39, “All these people earned a good reputation because of their faith, yet NONE of them received all that God had promised. For God had something better in mind for us, so that they would not reach perfection without us.”

Our weak trembling steps of faith, stretching out feeble hands to our Savior, have the exact same hope as the heroes of old! I mean really, David, the man after God’s own heart, was a murderous adulterer. Sampson wasted his life with relationships, and Jonah ran away from God, yet they all still fulfilled their destinies. Or consider the prophet and high priest Eli. He was a terrible parent, enabling his children right in the church! Yet, all these broken, erring, hopeless cases were the very people God loved and called His own! And all this proves one thing. People do not lose their gifts simply because they make mistakes.

GROWING UP So, let’s make this simple. Think back to when you were 15. Would you seek out your 15-year-old self for life advice? I was a moron at that age. The meaning of life was friends, cars, and adventure (In retrospect, perhaps I haven’t learned a lot since then). And yet, that was the age Ellen was when she received her calling. Think seriously about it. Would Mrs. White in her 80’s has the exact same perspectives she had when she was 15? Of course not! She changed and matured just as we all do. And that includes her theology.

Just like the rest of us, when Ellen was young, her ideas were molded by her parents. And her parents belonged to a strict sect called the Methodist holiness movement, based in perfectionism. Because of this, she began her faith life with a fearful melancholic view of God, one that was synonymous with the legalism of the Puritan era. Just like John the Baptist, Ellen shared the theological views of the culture around her. But she grew out of those rigid views over time. And this maturation is obvious in her writings as well.

You can see it in her publications before and after 1888. She transitioned from Early writings to Desire of Ages, from Testimonies to Christ’s Object Lessons. That sickly, socially-rejected girl became a powerful woman who firmly trusted in Jesus as her hope for salvation. And I’m positive there are many of us who can share the exact same testimony of how God led us into clearer and still clearer views of His love.

To put some boots to this point, W.W. Prescott, among his many achievements in the denomination, the man who assisted with the development of the Desire of Ages in Australia, was the compiler of the book Education, as well as being the one in charge of revisions to the Great Controversy under the direct authority of W.C. White. He had this to say about the writings of Mrs. White: “It is firmly settled that phrases and historical statements in these books have to be corrected just the same as in other books.” (W.W. Prescott, G. Valentine, RHPA, p. 263).

THE FUTURE Her books were never written with the intention of being interpreted word upon word, replacing the study of the Scriptures. Her books were written as principle upon principle, to edify and guide. She never intended her teachings to be taken as theologically infallible. So “yes”, inspired people can make mistakes and still be inspired. Ellen White was just a normal human being with a deep abiding love for God, one who longed for Jesus to return like the rest of us. Someone who had an intimate connection with the Spirit of God and was still learning as she grew.

In the end, the Three Angel’s Message she so deeply believed in is, at its core, the Everlasting Gospel. And so, in hoping against hope, dreaming of the future of Adventism, it is my longing to see an honest church. One willing to be deeply blessed by Ellen White. But no longer willing to replace Jesus and His word with the idols of men. Because our job as “messengers” was never to blow the trumpet about the denomination or Ellen White. Our job is to announce the coming of the Lord!

Shayne Mason Vincent until the end of September 2022 was pastor of the Casper district in Wyoming. Email him at [email protected]

 

21 Oct

REDEFINING ADVENTISM

In

The very title, “Redefining Adventism,” is provocative to some, and a “hair-on-fire” threat to others. So, let me define how I see redefining. First it is not degrading, dumping, or abandoning salvific pillars of the faith we hold and teach. It is an attempt to make present truth… well… present, and attractively applicable to contemporary people inside and outside the church.

The very name of the denomination lays out two major components of belief: Sabbath as the seventh day of the week and looking for the return of Jesus in His second advent/coming.

As Adventists, we speak and write often and passionately about “present truth.” At the same time, we tend to look back to the idealized historical “golden days” and pioneers of the church. There is a danger that we can be so focused on the methods and wrappings of the past that we make the core beliefs of the church look quaint, like the straw-brimmed hats and horse drawn buggies of the Pennsylvania Dutch. “Back to the Future” was a stellar title for a movie, but not much of a cogent mantra for a current and future movement. After all, a movement moves. It is not a static monument to the past.

The church has essentially held to core beliefs, and at the same time has been able to make a bridge between the past and the present. Things have changed. The Old Testament sacrificial rituals ceased. The Jerusalem Temple was destroyed. Past practices gave way to present realities and a focus on both the current situations and solutions, with an eye to future changes. Look at the conversion of Cornelius in Acts 10, and the council of Jerusalem in Acts 15. These were seismic shifts in how things were done. These shifts made truth truly present.

We need not, in fact should not, abandon pillar beliefs that are salvation related, but there is value in how we (wrap) present them to others. As an example: when I was a kid, it was fun and acceptable to wrap gifts in the colorful Sunday funny papers. The gift was encased in colorful panels of recognized cultural icons. Sometimes the gift might be wrapped in a recycled brown paper bag (we were “green” and did not know it). Today, if you gave a gift to your fiancé, or a dignitary, using those wrappings, it might evoke a seriously different response. The gift might be the same, but the presentation/wrapping could seriously detract from the gift itself.

What might a redefining of Sabbath look like?

Past truth style: “The Bible says the seventh-day is the Sabbath, and I can proof text it, so you must keep the seventh day as Sabbath!” This can look like my need to set you straight; it is information based.

Present truth style: “God is so loving and kind He designed a special down time every week so we would not burn out. It is a time when we can connect with family, and with Him in worship. He called it ‘Sabbath,’ and it happens every Saturday!” (An appeal to current needs. Relationship based, not just information based). Or “Birthdays are great celebrations! God wants to celebrate the birth of our world – not just once a year – but once a week. The seventh-day Sabbath is a celebration of His goodness and loving power. Come join me as we celebrate His creative work for, in, and through us!”

Same truth. Different presentations.

What might “redefining” the Advent look like?

Past truth style: “EARTH’S FINAL WARNING!”** There is terror and trouble ahead! You better be prepared for the wrathful return of the Almighty. If you are not ready – it is as Jonathan Edwards said – ‘God holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider…over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked…. You hang by a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and ready every moment to singe it.’”

Admittedly, that’s compellingly graphic, but not very appealing unless you are a masochist. It’s like Barron Von Trapp, in The Sound of Music, lining up his children for a chilling inspection to spot any defects that causes them to stand ram-rod fearful (but not lovingly) in his presence.

Present truth style: “Jesus said He would return to earth, and when He does, it will be magnificent! It is like when dad went away/deployed, and we all longed for his return. We waited and looked forward to that so we could be together again after a long absence. We looked eagerly for that time, and to a happy reunion where we could be together again, and we could invite our neighbors to rejoice with us!”

Same truth. Different presentation.

I spent a combat tour in Vietnam and did not see our children for a full year. Suppose Ardis had prepared them for my return by saying, “Dad is coming back, so you better have your hair combed – every single one in place – and be sure your shoes are polished, and that your room is without a speck of dust for his inspection. If there are any flaws, he will give you a whipping that will make you sorely sorry!” Would they eagerly anticipate my return, or dread it, and hope that my return would be delayed?

 Rephrasing Redefining

Maybe redefining would best be called reframing. Rather than focus on the negatives, focus on the positive aspects of Sabbath and the second coming, as well as other doctrines. Fear can motivate people, but fear wears off quickly. Fear is a poor long-term motivator. Positive anticipation is much more productive and long lasting.

In the Gospel of Luke 15, there are three stories of being lost. The sheep is lost: one out of a hundred. The coin is lost: one out of ten. The son is lost: one out of two. When each is found, there is positive joy and open celebration. The focus of each story is on the “found” portion, not a long lament on the “lost” negative portion.

Look at Daniel 7:22. It talks about the judgment (the very word frightens most people) and says, “…the Ancient of Days came and pronounced judgment in favor of the saints of the Most High, and the time came when they possessed the kingdom.” Like the stories of the lost in Luke, the focus is on the positive reality of judgment. Oh, to be sure, there are beasts and scary things Daniel writes about, but they all lead up to a superbly positive climax for those who love and receive God. That is the Good News we are to proclaim. That is the focus we are called to share.

The whole sweep of the Great Controversy theme through history leads to one conclusion: God wins! And those who have a positive relationship with Him are winners too!

Keeping Sabbath won’t save me. Knowing all the dates, details, prophetic interpretations, and speculations about the time of Jesus’ return won’t save me. Fear, demands, and proof-texts won’t save me. The only thing that will save any of us is an abiding, positive, ongoing relationship with Jesus. Maybe we could focus more on the Son than the signs, on the relationship than the rules.

Perhaps redefining Adventism is more about reframing how we share. How we see and wrap our message. That might really be the essence of present truth: the kind of truth that reflects the incredibly good news of the Gospel–good news as an invitation, rather than band news as a threat. The kind of present truth that motivates us positively Monday morning, and every day.

Dick Stenbakken, Ed.D., retired Army Chaplain (Col.), served as director of Adventist Chaplaincy Services at the General Conference and North American Division. With his wife Ardis, he lives in Loveland, Colorado. Email him at [email protected]

**The title of a currently advertised Adventist evangelistic promotion piece.

21 Oct

DISAPPOINTMENT REVISITED

In

When asked to imagine the Adventist Church in 2022, my mind mysteriously jumped to 1976.

In 1976, when I was 7, the United States celebrated the bicentennial of the Declaration of Independence. I remember a great celebration, where almost everything was red, white and blue for almost the whole year (including Colorado’s license plates).

As one raised Seventh-day Adventist and who attended Seventh-day Adventist parochial schools, I remember hearing the history of the church’s formation. So, it struck me forcefully that October 22, 2022, marks the 178th anniversary of the Great Disappointment.[1]

I did a bit more math as well. In 2022, we are celebrating William Miller’s 240th birthday.[2] We are celebrating Joseph Bates’ 230th birthday.[3] We are celebrating James White’s 201st birthday.[4] And we are celebrating Ellen G. White’s 195th birthday.[5]

In other words, our pioneers (and William Miller) all have attained (or are approaching) their own bicentennials, and the bicentennial of the Great Disappointment itself creeps inexorably towards us. We have been living in the “in-between time” after the Great Disappointment and before the Second Coming for approaching two centuries.

Our pioneers are now much like the heroes listed in Hebrews: “Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, without us, be made perfect.”  (Hebrews 11:39-40, NRSV).

This isn’t the first time the church has dealt with this tension.

The early church also experienced it at the time the Gospels originated. In that moment, when most scholars agree that most of the Epistles had already been written, the early church reached a point where it knew that it needed to preserve the story of Jesus. The church saw that those who were eyewitnesses to His ministry, death and resurrection were dying. And He had not yet returned

That moment is why we have the Gospels. They were written to preserve the story of Jesus in the “in-between time.” Today, then, what do I value about Adventism’s similar “in-between time?” This article lists three of the things I value about our Adventist church as we move forward. These are things I continue to value, even if I myself don’t live to see the Second Coming.

Joy in the Sabbath – Treasuring our day of rest and gladness.

I admit that when I was younger, sometimes my attitude toward the Sabbath was a bit like those Israelites described in Amos 8, who couldn’t wait for the Sabbath to end, so that they could get back to their own business.

Then I went to graduate school at a state university. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t in an Adventist parochial school bubble. What a difference.

There, I learned the absolute freedom that the Sabbath brings to us. As I set aside the books on Friday night and spent the rest of the next 24 hours in worship, contemplation of nature, and fellowship with friends and family, I could feel my body and mind regaining a balance. More importantly, I could sense my connection with God being refreshed. Through this, I found myself being able to say that the Sabbath truly is a delight (Isaiah 58:13).

As we go forward in the “in-between time,” I find myself being able to sing with my whole heart (in words from an old hymn):

A day of sweet reflection
Thou art, a day of love,
A day to raise affection
From earth to things above.
New graces ever gaining
From this our day of rest . . .

Living the Christian Life as Holistic – not just a once-a-week Thing

In the words of George Herbert’s hymn:

Sev’n whole days, not one in sev’n,
I will praise Thee;
in my heart, though not in heav’n,
I can raise Thee . . .

Many Christian denominations agree that we should live the Christian life wholistically.

Yet as I see it, the Adventist Church’s role as a pioneer on what we often call the “health message” has been a particularly important and meaningful application of living the Christian life wholistically. It is true that the rest of the world (including science) has discovered the scientific reality behind much of what the Adventist church has been preaching since the late 19th century on many health issues, such as vegetarianism and the importance of fruits and vegetables to a balanced diet. Yet the Adventist Church continues to preach that this scientific reality is also a matter of living one’s spirituality wholistically.

This emphasis on living a unified wholistic Christian life not only in worship but throughout the week–and most importantly as an aspect of the “health message”–is a part of Adventism I treasure each day as I continue to live in the “in-between time.”

Humility as a Treasure

The Great Disappointment itself was a truly a deep lesson to the Millerites, which helped shaped how the Adventist church developed as a new denomination within the Christian community. The fact that Ellen White was a woman was also an unexpected development of the Spirit. In these two foundational elements of the Adventist tradition, I see God teaching his church humility. Yet this humility at the founding of Adventism is another renewal of lessons long a part of Christianity.

The first and most surprising moment is the very essence of Christianity itself: the crucified and resurrected Redeemer himself. In the words of Paul: “For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles . . .”  1 Corinthians 1:22-23 (NRSV).

The second moment comes from the story of Peter and Cornelius in Joppa: “While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter said, ‘Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?’” Acts 10: 44-47 (NRSV).

The early church learned humility and surprise by the fact that the Messiah suffered, died, and was resurrected, and because Gentiles received the Holy Spirit like Jews.  The Adventist movement learned humility and surprise (among other things) through surviving the Great Disappointment and finding the Holy Spirit poured out on a rather frail young woman.

I don’t think any Adventist can deny being surprised by how long the “in-between time” has lasted. Yet the surprises that God gave both the early church and the early Adventist movement lead me to value these lessons of humility and surprise as we continue forward in the “in-between time.” And I trust that God has more similar wonderful surprises in store for his church.

Shawn P. Nowlan is an attorney currently working for the federal government in Denver. He is a member of the Boulder Adventist Church. Email him at: [email protected]

[1]Conceding that the General Conference itself wasn’t established until 1863, it still remains true that the movement is about 200 years old, all things considered.
[2] Miller was born February 15, 1782.
[3] Bates was born July 8, 1792.
[4] James White was born August 4, 1821.
[5]Ellen White was born November 26, 1827.

1 … 72 73 74 75 76 … 233