09 Jan

WHEN ADVENTISM SAVES YOUR LIFE

Depending on your conversation partners, you might know several reasons why you should avoid being a Seventh-day Adventist. Whether from those outside the denomination who look on Adventists with suspicion, or those inside the denomination who bash various theological or cultural pieces of our Adventist identity, it seems any number of reasons can be marshalled for why you should not be an Adventist. This can even be the result from efforts of those who love the denomination and, in that love, seek to call out its shortfalls, deficits, and inconsistencies: sometimes a friendly critique of Adventism can sound or feel like an exercise in denigrating Adventism. Any legitimate critique of Adventism needs to be coupled with a robust celebration of Adventism and being an Adventist.

Why am I a Seventh-day Adventist? What has Adventism given me that nothing else ever provided? An Adventist identity has provided me with three absolutes that have grounded my personal identity and sense of mission. First, Adventism introduced me to Jesus.I’m a fourth generation Seventh-day Adventist, but I was not raised in an Adventist home. My father was a Southern Baptist-turned-atheist, due to religious abuse in his home, and he did not want religion in the house while I was growing up. My mother was a lapsed, non-observant Seventh-day Adventist, and she kept her Adventism private to keep the peace at home. Such a home was not conducive to meeting Jesus.  So how did I meet Jesus? Adventist education!  My mother sent me to the Adventist school in Aurora, Colorado, hoping that I’d get my dose of Jesus there. My mother, however, got more than she bargained for.

The now-shuttered Aurora Adventist Elementary School introduced me to a God who loved me so much that he became a man to save me from my sins and reunite me with himself. I had heard from other Christians that Jesus was God because he could do miracles, but it was Adventism that helped me understand that Jesus showed his deity the most clearly when he died a torturous death on a cross for me. Likewise, my Baptist and charismatic family members talked a lot about Jesus’ resurrection, but mostly as an absentee landlord: Jesus had to go away and now we’re here while he is, well, somewhere else. Adventism introduced me to a different way of thinking about his resurrection: Jesus rose again and ascended into heaven so he could prepare a place for us, which is why he is coming back very soon. While my various Christian family members lived with the impression that Jesus had abandoned them, Adventism invited me to wait for Jesus while he was making sure we would never be parted again! At times when my home life became chaotic with family drama and dysfunction, the Jesus that Seventh-day Adventism introduced me to took away my anger and replaced it with his peace.

The second pillar Adventism provide me was a sense of meaning and purpose. Ever since I was a child, I’ve always felt that life had to have a meaning and purpose. My father’s evolutionary approach to life and my mother’s creationist beliefs often left me wondering what reality and the truth were, but I was always convinced that life had to have a meaning and purpose. I just wasn’t sure what its meaning and purpose were supposed to be. Adventism gave me a meaning and purpose I had only encountered in my dreams when I longed for an undefinable “something more.”

My first exposure to meaning was in the concept of the remnant, which simply meant that I mattered to Jesus. The remnant was not a group of spiritually elite people, but rather a group of people who are deeply loved by Jesus and are moved to love Jesus back. Similarly, the idea of discipleship was revolutionary for my sense of purpose. My Christian friends in other denominations worshiped Jesus, but they often acted like Jesus wasn’t alive. Adventism not only told me continuously that Jesus was alive but also invited me to apprentice under a living Savior: to sense his presence with me, to pour over his commands and teachings in the Gospels, to consider myself just as much a student of Jesus today as his original disciples were two thousand years ago. Within this framework, I felt beloved by Jesus every day. I could share Jesus with others because I knew Jesus was with me. And I could look forward to his second coming with excitement, because Jesus was my best friend! At a time when I so desperately needed confidence and self-worth, Adventism pointed me to the Jesus who freely gave them.

The final pillar Adventism secured for me was a radical and heart-transforming conversion to Jesus, his way, and his priorities. Adventism first introduced me to Jesus, for which I’ll be forever grateful. But I eventually lost sight of Jesus while being an Adventist. Over time, I experienced what a lot of Adventists do: I felt my Adventism was more important than being a Christian. Whether my problem was that I became legalistic, viewed myself as a Pharisee, lost my first love for Jesus, didn’t fully embrace the 1888 message of righteousness by faith, or some other spiritual ailment, what was true was that I succumbed to the temptation to consider my version of Adventism to be God. The irony of Adventism, however, is that it contains the seeds of its own transformation.

Whenever I tried to make Adventism about the law, the sanctuary, the Sabbath, spiritual gifts, or anything else that was good but was not Jesus, Adventism spoke to my heart about Jesus’ goodness. Alternatively, whenever I tried to make Adventism about the church, evangelism, baptism, our remnant mission, or any other Adventist identity factor that was good but was not Jesus, Adventism gently pointed me to a compassionate Savior. Adventism told me a story about a God of love: that God is a just and merciful deity, who loves me and wants good things for me; that God desires obedience, loyalty, and trust from his best friends, but that this same God gives his best friends the gift of obedience out of his tenderness and kindness to them; that God constantly puts his reputation on the line and exposes himself to the harshest criticism and ridicule by human and supernatural agencies alike in his endeavors to save us, simply because he cares more about our wellbeing than maintaining his status as unquestionable; that the God who is the King of the universe chose to answer satanic charges against his character by wrapping himself in littleness and lowliness as a human baby, grow up as a poverty-stricken Jewish peasant in a backwater province of the first century Roman Empire, die on a cross as the crucified God for us, and give us immortality by his resurrection from death as a glorified man—and this God is our best friend!

Such an Adventism is shockingly and beautifully alarming, because it melts even the coldest heart and softens even the most trenchant resistance. This kind of Adventism continually reintroduced me to Jesus as the one who can heal my wounded soul, carry all of my sorrows, and assuage all of my fears, because he knows what it’s like to go through the darkest of nights and experience the utmost loss and terror. The Jesus of Adventism is entirely compassionate, gentle, and strong, because he’s aware of our pain and hurt, and able to give us the joy and peace we’ve always hoped for but were never sure we would receive. Encountering the Jesus of Adventism and spending time with him has perpetually helped me love and accept myself, as well as love and accept others, because the Jesus of Adventism loves to share his compassion and grace with everyone.

There is much to celebrate about Seventh-day Adventism.  Adventism is more robust than we could possibly imagine.  It is more stable than many other Christian denominations I know, primarily because it hooks us up with Jesus, the one who is stability itself. Likewise, Adventists often struggle with emotional and spiritual health, but Adventism has always served as a source of emotional strength and health because it speaks to us of a God who loves us in our brokenness and is making all things new.

While Adventism has often been taken over and used for unkind, uncharitable, and un-Adventist purposes, Adventism itself possesses the breadth and security to allow for different flavors, experiences, and expressions among Adventist Christians, as well as the dynamism and vitality to eventually overcome and conquer any attempts to domesticate it.

Adventism always gets us back to the one necessary thing: Jesus and his love for us. I think this experiment called Adventism is from God, and for that I am most grateful.

Nathaniel Gamble is the RMC Public Affairs and Religious Liberty director and pastors four churches in Colorado. He is currently finishing his PhD from Calvin Theological Seminary and is married to Alexandria. Contact him at: [email protected]

23 Oct

OPPORTUNITY THE WORLD NEEDS

I first encountered the term “post-Christendom” in a college course on postmodernism. I had no idea what it meant, but I was intrigued. Eventually, I discovered the same definition everyone else has who works in the fields of theology, missions, education, cultural studies, political science, social services, government, and general church work:

Post-Christendom refers to the dismantling of the veneer of Christianity in Western civilization—assumptions about the role and place of Christian beliefs, notions of Christian-influenced morality, and the Church as a community institution—as the accepted religious shape of a given society and its culture.

In other words, post-Christendom refers to the ongoing practice of Western societies to move away from Christianity as the assumed leader of morality or a leading influence on culture and government. The biggest impact post-Christendom has had on our lives has been the increasing reality that Christian identity is no longer considered axiomatic in our larger society and culture. Living in a post-Christendom society inevitably means learning to live without the comfort, security, or ease of the forms and expressions of Christianity that previously made it easier to live unbothered as a believer.

Adventism, Normalcy, and the Problems of Living in Postnormal Times

Why am I talking about the concept of post-Christendom? The reason is because people are now living in what can only be called the “postnormal” and having the same experience with postnormal times as I first did with post-Christendom times. Like it or not, the last few years have been anything but normal. In fact, they’ve been downright strange and even a little bizarre. I’m not going to address any of the odd events that have occurred in the United States or throughout the world for the last four years, because that level of strangeness can be absolutely overwhelming on certain days! Instead, I want to address some of the postnormal that has been happening in the Seventh-day Adventist Church that has now come to define much of the spiritual background of our lives.

Since 2020, these postnormal times have witnessed a blossoming of independent Adventist movements and “supporting ministries,” whose sole purpose seems to be to angrily snipe at the organized Adventist Church for its apparent apostasy, while still wanting to be identified as part of the organized Adventist Church. You know it’s not normal when other independent ministries start to express discomfort with this new breed of “Adventist” independent ministry.

Likewise, the presence of anti-trinitarian groups in Adventist circles is not new to the denomination, but the rise in a militant style of anti-trinitarianism is something novel. This “Adventist” anti-trinitarianism not only tries to take over local congregations but also whole conferences (and their headquarters!)—which isn’t so much alarming as it is strange.

What is stranger still, however, is the phenomenon of Adventist church members allying themselves with odd theological and social bedfellows. Adventists who tend to describe themselves as progressive or liberal are increasingly joining forces with mainline Protestant groups and organizations. This is nothing new, though what is a little unusual is how much self-proclaimed social activists within Adventism are starting to also embrace the liturgical life of these denominations, given their historic disinterest in liturgy.

But even more odd are the self-identifying conservative and moderate Adventists who are now flirting with the secret rapture, the role of Israel in end-time events, and the seven-year reign of the antichrist as acceptable Adventist beliefs, or at least an openness to Adventism being wrong about the end-time apostasy of other churches.

Perhaps the strangest thing of all are those Adventists and independent groups who are now claiming Ellen G. White always believed that Christians need to turn the United States into a theocracy, with the organized Adventist Church slipping into apostasy while the American evangelicalism of the culture wars is considered the true remnant. Talk about postnormal times indeed!

This situation can easily feel overwhelming and discouraging. The polarization of Adventism seems to be increasing by the day and it’s unclear what the solution is. Talking about the problem is of no help either. Different factions within Adventism have drawn up their doctrinal, lifestyle, missional, and authorial reasons for this polarization, including who is to blame (and in some instances, who ought to be expelled from the Adventist Church). The only thing these disparate perspectives can agree on is that there is a problem and that these are not normal times!

Besides, we know what the true problem—dare I say crisis?—actually is, because it has been with us for a long time: lovelessness. We are judgmental and ungracious to ourselves and each other, and we generally distrust our leaders, pastors, and teachers. We are also suspicious and fearful of each other, both from the clergy side and the laity side, and we often actively undermine each other in subtle, passive, and indirect ways—which ultimately undermines our mission and witness. Like my original confrontation with post-Christendom, it can feel good and reassuring to go back “to when things were normal” and even strive to reclaim a semblance of that normalcy. But if time tells us anything about normalcy, it is that one can never go back to when things were normal and made sense (and they probably never existed anyway). All you can do is move ahead.

Constructing an Adventist Theology of Hope

The requirement to move ahead (because there is no other option) brings us back to the issue of Adventism in postnormal times. How are we to move forward? What we need is an Adventist theology of hope. I’m not talking about Jürgen Moltmann’s famous book Theology of Hope, though this is an admirable example of hope as the tenor of theology and faith. I’m talking about the very bones and sinew of Adventism! So many Adventists approach their denominational identity and mission devoid of hope. Some of us focus on doctrine, others health, still others church policy and tradition, while yet still others highlight any number of marginal hobbyhorses. The problem with this approach is not that it creates competition between all these good and important aspects of the mission, though it truly does, and we have been reaping the limiting and stagnating effects of this for well over a century. The real problem is that none of this can give any hope for the mission, because all of this is the fruit rather than the root of Adventist mission and identity.

A theology of hope, I believe, has four core elements: a foundation, an orientation, a life, and a structure. The foundation of an Adventist theology of hope must be the resurrection of Jesus. The resurrection of Jesus, the God-man, is the only reality that can sustain the Adventist Church, because Jesus is the only one who has died for us, conquered death, and strode forth from the grave robed in everlasting life. Such a rootedness in Jesus’ resurrection inevitably lifts us out of empty searching for meaning and purpose and sets us on he who is meaning and purpose itself. Consequently, the orientation of an Adventist theology of hope must be the second coming of Jesus. He who came the first time to die for us is the same one who will come the second time to finish the work of salvation he began in us, and who has preserved that work with his ongoing heavenly ministry for us.

But an Adventist theology of hope can only be nurtured and lived out of a living connection with the crucified and risen Lord Jesus who is coming again. This kind of theology of hope can never be sustained by wishful thinking, hoping things turn out well, or trying to live your life the best you can. Rather, it is only by the grace and fellowship that is daily given to us by the Lord and Rabbi to whom we belong and who calls us his beloved. Finally, such a life and connection with the risen Jesus can only be maintained by structuring it around what I call missional gospel practices: fasting, prayer, Bible reading, giving to the poor, Sabbath, sharing your faith, hospitality, spending time in nature, being with your family, serving, practicing forgiveness, resting, and trusting in God.

Conclusion: Living as an Adventist in Postnormal Times

An Adventist theology of hope will enable Adventists to live boldly and robustly in postnormal times. Such an Adventism would be relevant, not by someone else’s standards but by its own standard. The reason this is true is obvious: an Adventist theology of hope gives us the courage to reclaim our identity, mission, and unity, practice Jesus’ commands to care for the poor and oppressed in society, proclaim the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection, and joyfully embrace the responsibility to share the three angels’ messages with the world in preparation for the soon return of King Jesus. Like the early Adventists who were energized by their friendship with Jesus and invigorated by a theology of hope to get involved in missions, hospitals, schools, and relief work, the sky is the limit for twenty-first century Adventists who will do the same.

Nathaniel Gamble is the RMC Public Affairs and Religious Liberty Director and pastors four churches in Colorado. He is currently finishing his PhD from Calvin Theological Seminary and is married to Alexandria. Email him at: [email protected]

26 Jul

JESUS: THE SOURCE OF AUTHENTIC ADVENTISM

In 1995, Martin Weber wrote a book entitled Who’s Got the Truth?: Making Sense Out of Five Different Adventist Gospels. Weber claimed his primary goal was to help fellow Seventh-day Adventists sort through the particular theological emphases of Morris Venden, George Knight, Jack Sequeira, Ralph Larson, and Graham Maxwell. Ironically, what Weber ended up doing was exposing a glaring truth to Adventists and the rest of the world: at any given moment, there are many different versions of Adventism, and Adventists are happy to debate which version is authentically Adventist and which versions should be deemed heretical.

This situation is simultaneously understandable and regrettable. On the one hand, it is natural for Adventists to try to determine which expressions of Adventism accurately reflect the truth of God’s character, love, and plan of salvation. On the other hand, our individual and corporate desire to discern the authenticity and inauthenticity of different versions of Adventism too often falls prey to the temptation of becoming inquisitors for God.

Nevertheless, the question still remains: What is authentic Adventism? While avoiding the pitfalls of tribalism, elitism, spiritual snobbery, judgmentalism, and idolatry, it is still essential for Adventists to determine what is authentic Adventism. Otherwise, we will continue to fight each other over who is a true Adventist and whose version of Adventism is authentic. And this fight will continue to spill over into our interactions with secularists, former Adventists, and the few young people left in our denomination.

But Adventists already have a blueprint for figuring out the answer to this question—and it’s not what you think. The answer to determining authentic Adventism is not in the three angels’ messages of Revelation 14:6-12. That message is a gift from God. But Adventists are divided on what those messages mean. Some maintain those messages are about the Sabbath and the papacy; others claim the emphasis is on a six-day creation week, the seventh day Sabbath, and avoiding other religious groups; and still others assert that those messages are all about Jesus’ love for us, our need to love him, and the importance of surrendering to him. Such disparate understandings of the three angels’ messages can never achieve the kind of unity or authenticity we so desire to see in Adventism.

Likewise, the 1888 message of righteousness by faith is sometimes touted as the remedy for our denominational malaise and the key to restoring “authentic Adventism.” Yet again, this is not the case. Every Adventist insists that we must put our faith in Jesus. But some Adventists stress God’s grace, the beauty of Christ’s character, and the all-sufficiency of Jesus, while other Adventists stress our obedience to God, our replication of Christ’s character in ourselves, and the addition of Jesus’ power to our moral effort. Whatever this dichotomy ultimately means, the one indisputable conclusion is that the message of righteousness by faith is not a silver bullet. There are no shortcuts to authenticity, and this is a hard lesson to learn.

The source for authentic Adventism is actually located in early Adventist history. In the years immediately after the Great Disappointment of October 22, 1844, early Adventists fractured into many varieties of Adventism. Adventist groups differed widely from each other all over New England and the Midwest. One type of Adventism believed the kingdom of God had arrived, which required us to behave like children to enter it—inclusive of wearing diapers, nursing, and throwing temper tantrums. A second type of Adventism believed God was now judging the world, so all forms of “vanity” must be rejected: forks, shoes, pants, public greetings, manners, hygiene, church attendance, and doing any work or holding a job.

Perhaps none were more rowdy than the charismatic forms of Adventism, which emphasized exuberant worship services, speaking in tongues, prophesying, anarchy, miraculous healing, exorcism, and even forms of fortunetelling, clairvoyance, and hypnotism. The charismatic groups tended to be mean and sometimes unethical in their attempts to convince other Adventists to adopt their version of Adventism. Finally, a clandestine form of Adventism encouraged sexual dalliances as true spirituality: swinger lifestyles, polygamy in communes, and loose forms of “free love” practices similar to what characterized the 1960s.

James and Ellen G. White belonged to one of the smallest versions of Adventism at this time: the Sabbatarian and Sanctuary Adventists. These Adventists believed Jesus loves us so much that he gives us Sabbath rest and works to save us as our high priest. But how could all these versions of Adventism unite in love and a cohesive sense of mission?

The answer was Jesus. As James visited each group and spoke of Jesus’ soon return for his friends, different kinds of Adventists either left Adventism altogether or moved closer to each other in love. As Ellen presented her visions of heaven, mission, and Jesus’ victory over sin and Satan to each group, different kinds of Adventists began to lay aside their own personal interpretations of Adventism and became more Christ-centered. As early Adventist leaders fasted and prayed together, practiced communion together, and confessed and forgave each other, different versions of Adventism began to dissipate and an authentic Adventism began to take shape: a movement of people on fire for Jesus, who had been seized by a great affection for the risen Savior and Lover of their souls.

What does this history lesson mean for authentic Adventism today? According to Adventist history, the essence of authentic Adventism comes when people discover to their shock and delight that Jesus loves them, has already achieved their salvation, and invites them to have a relationship with him—one that starts now, but which is intended to last for eternity. Authentic Adventism is where there is no fear of being unloved, rejected, or unaccepted by Jesus, because we know we are safe in his love—and in that love, we feel safe enough to make friends with others and extend the love and compassion of Jesus to them. True, authentic Adventism sees the Sabbath, the second coming, the state of the dead, the heavenly sanctuary, and the presence of spiritual gifts in the Church through the lens of Jesus, and not merely as doctrines: as indicators of how much Jesus loves us, enjoys our company, delights to take care of us, and desires to equip us for mission and service in preparation for his soon return.

Does any of this look like the Adventism you practice and hold dear? Many Adventists tend to shy away from having too much Jesus and too much of his love in their Adventism. It’s not that we think Jesus is a bad idea; rather, the temptation has always been to “complete” Jesus by having something else serve as the centerpiece of Adventism.

But if Jesus is the author of Adventism, which Adventists have always believed, then a stress on Jesus, his love, and his ongoing work of salvation on behalf of those inside and outside the denomination is the only factor that makes Adventism authentic. It is only as Adventism focuses on Jesus, accepts his love for us, and prioritizes and reaches out to the people Jesus values (everybody!), that we will discover authentic Adventism. The challenge for each of us is to leave behind our factional versions of Adventism, and become authentic Adventists who practice authentic Adventism by worshiping Jesus with all our hearts, souls, minds, and love—in short, with every fiber of our beings.

Nathaniel Gamble is the RMC public affairs and religious liberty director and senior pastor of Denver West Seventh-day Adventist Church and Aspen Park Seventh-day Adventist Church. He is in the Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) program at Calvin Theological Seminary, Grand Rapids, Michigan. Email him at: [email protected]

15 Oct

WHEN MINISTRY IS CHALLENGING – AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT

By Nathaniel Gamble — My words below reference pastors, but my message is meant for all Seventh-day Adventists, including lay members and leaders. It is a stark-but-necessary wake-up call that we need to be more interested in passionately and deeply loving Jesus than in hating and bullying each other. According to Jesus, the clearest witness to his deity and union with God is the unity and love of the Church (cf. John 17). When we lack these attributes, we become the best evidence that Jesus isn’t real. By the mercies of God, let us embrace the Advent mission to love Him and each other.

I am the pastor of three churches: a dying church, a church that is missionally paralyzed, and a church that has been divided since its inception – which, unfortunately, describes a large number of our churches. For each of these churches, I have spent the last two years working on refocusing their attention on Jesus so that He can give them increased love for Him, increased missional purpose and activity, and increased unity, respectively.

But my ministerial efforts have met with frequent challenges. In addition to the usual fights among church members over congregational resources, positions, and power, I have faced more insidious pushback to my ministry for the last several months: threats of death or bodily harm from church members about every other week (recently down from once a week); parishioners undermining my pastoral authority and Christian witness to get their way; efforts to spread lies and misinformation about me to other Adventist congregations and even to people who are not members of our church; belligerent messages from a sizable minority in my churches to stop talking so much about Jesus; and a general unwillingness by many to change, give up control of their lives and their churches, and allow Jesus to shape them into passionate disciples.

All of this can be very depressing and discouraging for a pastor. So, what am I doing to respond to these challenges, and what can you do if you’re facing similar challenges in your churches?

First, focus on what you can change, not on what you can’t. You might have made mistakes in trying to deal with these issues, but you are not the problem; these issues existed in your churches long before you got there. You can’t control other people or these situations, but you can control how you will respond to other people and these situations.

Second, preach the gospel to yourself. You tell others God loves them and wants a relationship with them, so sit under your own preaching. Copiously remind yourself that. God loves you, He thinks you’re pretty great, and He wants to spend time with you. You are what He thinks of you, not what others think of you.

Third, turn your churches over to Jesus. Jesus is the senior pastor of your churches, not you, so get out of the way! We Adventists love Jesus, but we sometimes love other things even more. Only Jesus can give us greater love for Himself, which means Jesus needs to be in control of you, your ministry, your people, and your church.

Finally, share your struggles with others. If you trust your Conference, tell them; if you trust your pastor cluster group, tell them. Don’t share to vent or get advice.  Instead, share with people who you know love and care about you, so that God can use them to love you through the dark times and unite their prayers for you with those of Jesus and the Holy Spirit (cf. Romans 8). And be thankful, which is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. God bless.

–Nathaniel Gamble is pastor in the Rocky Mountain Conference. Adapted from article initially published in RMC Pastor’s News, October 9.