So, the question is: how does Adventism impact the surrounding culture?
The answer I am tempted to offer, from where I sit, is: somewhere on a continuum between “not at all” and “very little.”
But that is not very helpful, nor is it quite fair. A better response would be that the impact is “patchy.”
I write from Europe, from England, where the situation is no doubt different from the place where many readers of this journal live. In the whole of Europe, there is only one Adventist hospital—in Berlin. There are a couple of institutions which bear the name “university,” but they are very small and do not really resemble what I understand by the term. Fine institutions that they are, and well-qualified though the faculties may be, they enroll relatively few students and offer a narrow range of courses rather than a “universe” of options.
There are a few residential homes for the elderly. There are some scattered elementary and secondary schools in European countries, and they no doubt make their mark on local communities. The biggest presence is in what might loosely be called “seminaries.” Many European countries have their own small Adventist colleges which focus largely on the education of intending pastors and biblical studies. As the students find their way into ministry, they do, of course, influence the communities in which they serve.
So, the answer to the original question may be towards the “very little” end of the spectrum. Publishing houses do exist, but the glory days of vegetarian food factories, and sanitoria, like the famous Skodsborg San in Denmark, are gone. Yet all this only deals with Adventist institutions, just one aspect of the picture.
I could tell you another side of the story.
I could tell you about the London Adventist Chorale which has sung at great state occasions—at Buckingham Palace for the golden jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II and at other premier venues like Toronto’s Sky Dome. They sing a wide repertoire from spirituals to the western choral tradition. One music critic said their music is distinguished by “discipline with fervor.” Their conductor, Ken Burton, is the BBC’s go-to person for Gospel music and more.
I could tell you about Herbert Blomstedt, a Swede, who has been one of the world’s leading orchestral conductors for a long time. Now in his mid-1990s, he is still conducting. It is well-known in classical music circles that he is a Christian and a Sabbath keeper who will perform on Sabbaths, but will not practice because performance is joy, but practice is work.
I could tell you about Marianne Thieme in the Netherlands who founded the Party for the Animals in 2002 and became an Adventist four years later. Though this is a secular party, Marianne draws inspiration from the Adventist commitment to vegetarianism and Ellen G. White’s writings more generally. The Party has had representatives at all political levels from the European Parliament to the Dutch Parliament to regional governments.
I could tell you about the Adventist bikers in Serbia, the “Three Angels,” rather than the Hell’s Angels. They combine their passion for Jesus with love for being on the road. They organize rides, do “ordinary stuff,” as they say, and allow the Spirit to work gently.
I could tell you about Alan Collins, an English Adventist sculptor. “The Good Samaritan” sculpture at Loma Linda is his work. He fashioned the “Gilded Angel” atop the tower of the Anglican cathedral in Guildford, southeast of London, as well as its nine statues of “The Gifts of the Spirit.” He also has other work in various public spaces.
I could tell you about the recent prime time TV program in the UK which focused on those places in the world where people live longest. Loma Linda is featured alongside a Greek Island and a Japanese mountain community. Exercise, diet, a sense of community, and finding meaningful work well into retirement were common themes and, in Loma Linda’s case, an undergirding faith in a generous God.
I could tell you about Jean-Claude Verrecchia, my friend and former colleague at Newbold College. He is a New Testament scholar of some distinction who has long helped to direct the French Bible Society.
I could tell you more stories such as these about individuals or small groups who exercise influence in various groups in different countries in Europe. The influence is significant, but largely local. For Seventh-day Adventists in Europe, name recognition remains poor and understanding of what the Church represents is, I suspect, no better.
In trying, with difficulty, to understand these different measures of the Church’s success or “impact,” I have wondered whether the ideas of H. Richard Niebuhr, the American scholar (1894-1962), might help. In his great classic Christ and Culture, he tried to trace the relationship between Christ’s church and the surrounding culture.
Niebuhr suggested five possible relationships—and here I must simplify greatly because of the restrictions of space.
Is Christ against culture? This view holds that the values of Christ are simply at odds with those of the wider secular society.
Should we speak of the Christ of culture? That history is the story of the Spirit of Christ infusing itself at every turn in our civilization?
Perhaps, rather, it is a matter of the Christ above culture. That is to say that all history is a preparation of the soul for communion with God.
Another option is Christ and culture in paradox. There is an ongoing struggle between faith and unbelief, and we are now in the time between the moment of promise and its fulfillment.
Lastly, there is Christ transforming culture. History is the story of humanity’s transforming responses to the presence of God in time.
In the case of the Adventist church in Europe, we might well see elements of all the above, but none is adequate in itself. Adventists do recognize the evils and excesses of the world in which we live. We are to be “in the world but not of it.” That means that we affirm that God’s good Spirit is constantly at work in human affairs. The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes says Jesus of the Holy Spirit to Nicodemus in John 3.8. We do seek to prepare ourselves and others to come into relationship with God. Many of us are inevitably children of our culture, and at some time struggle between faith and unbelief and know what it is to doubt the goodness of God. We do believe in God’s transforming power even if we do not expect it to revolutionize the structures of our societies.
Helpful as Niebuhr’s model may be, it does not offer a full account of our lives lived between the extremities of our flawed societies and the overwhelming love of the Lord of the Church, of the Lord of all.
Adventists in Europe live in among all these tensions. It is clear now that the answer does not lie principally in the establishment of thriving institutions. These reach the end of their usefulness at some stage. We have shown, by much of our organized activity, that we do not believe in an ongoing head-on crash with the wider world. Indeed, in Europe we increasingly seek varying but real involvement of our Church in wider community ventures, as the sterling efforts of all the European country Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA) offices show.
Not only that, but local Adventist churches are increasingly much involved in community services of various kinds. The response to needs which arose during the Covid pandemic and to food poverty show that well enough. We do see the life and work of outstanding Adventist individuals and groups being highly regarded.
So, to come back to the original question about Adventism’s impact on culture, none of the responses I offered at the outset is adequate. No impact at all? Clearly not the case. Little? Yes, but at certain times and in certain places, it has been and is quite marked. Patchy then? But that is not very flattering, and it really does not do the Church justice.
The word “impact” is a strong one implying something forceful, dramatic, muscular, public.
Maybe we can more helpfully talk about “influence” rather than “impact.” Adventist influence where I live is, I think, best described as “local” and “gentle.” Maybe not unlike the impact of Jesus in his own lifetime, in his own culture. For the most part, that influence took a long time to show itself. A slow burn rather than an explosion.
I believe that the wind still blows. The Spirit still moves. That gentle Spirit still woos us with its fierce tenderness.
Michael Pearson is Principal Lecturer Emeritus at Newbold College in the UK. For many years he taught topics in ethics, philosophy, and spirituality. He and his wife, Helen, write a weekly blog pearsonsperspectives.com Email him at: [email protected]