daniel-chen-193749-steepnarrowpath.jpg

The multi-ethnic, multi-convictional nature of the early church - steeped Greco-Roman religious-philosophical ferment – defied efforts at uniformity of practice. So strong were the consciences of particular groups that in spite of the Church’s ruling at the Jerusalem Council on certain practices, there remained resistance. The Council ruled that Gentiles do not need to be circumcised, but it continued to be a factious issue. The Council ruled that Gentiles should not eat meat offered to idols as they used to before their conversion, but that, too remained a factious issue.

Similarly, the Seventh-day Adventist church in a General Conference session voted against the autonomy of any region of the world church to ordain women; but it still remains a factious issue.

Apostle Paul addresses these divisive issues not by appealing to the ruling of the Jerusalem Council, but by appealing to the Abrahamic Covenant through which God brings liberty.   He strongly opposes enforcement of uniform practice on matters that have no spiritual virtue in and of themselves (“weak and beggarly rudiments” [Galatians 4:9]) calling such practices enslavement to the flesh (Galatians 4:21-31; 1 Corinthians 3:3) or capitulating to a “weak” conscience (1 Corinthians 8:7). Paul explains that to live in covenant is not about rituals and traditions, but about love for one’s neighbor, i.e., fair and equitable relations in community fostering the bond of faith (Gal. 3:28; Romans 13: ). Like Jesus of Nazareth, Paul’s purpose is to reinforce this fundamental ethic of the kingdom of God vis a vis rituals and traditional practices. By this careful ethical instruction of factious communities such as Galatia, Corinth and Rome, he calls the church to the liberty in Messiah that enables it to embrace – without rancor diverse practices in the faith.

In Galatians Paul writes:

“For freedom Christ has set you free. Stand firm therefore and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”

This statement is a climactic point in a conversation on freedom of conscience which constitutes the letter to the Galatians. I will proceed to discuss the question of liberty of conscience in the context of this statement as it addresses factious issues in the early church and reinforces the fundamental ethic of the Kingdom of God as the only path to unity.

My thesis today is this:

The New Testament teaching on unity is a call to enter the new covenant experience of liberty that frees the community from the need for conformity to rituals and regulations that have no spiritual value in and of themselves, but serve to keep it enslaved.

I will in many places use the term “Messiah” instead of “Christ”. Both terms mean the same, i.e., anointed specifically to mediate God’s liberating justice. However the general consciousness tends to recognize “Christ” as a name rather than as a function – messianic function.

For Freedom Messiah Has Set You Free – Righteousness, Faith, and Works of Law

“For freedom Christ has set you free. Stand firm therefore and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. ”

This statement is the response call to Paul’s thesis: “a person is not justified by works of law, but through faith in Jesus Messiah” (Galatians 2:15). His teaching on “righteousness” or “justification” in Galatians (and Romans) is his radical assertion that Gentiles who do not subscribe to Jewish rituals and traditions have a right to membership in the covenant community – the community of the righteous. We so often use the term “righteousness by faith” when speaking of Paul’s soteriology, and contrast that to “works of the law”; and we do so with reference to personal sins. However Paul’s message is to a community – about how it conducts itself inter-relationally as people of the covenant. It is a message of inclusion and freedom of conscience. Five hundred years of Reformation has silenced this conversation. However, the late 1970s saw the rise of the New Perspective on Paul (NPP) with the publication of E.P. Sanders’ Paul and Palestinian Judaism.[1] The NPP has heralded a new look at Paul’s conversation on “justification” through the lens of scripture, rather than through the lens of the Reformation. It thereby reads Paul’s argument in the context of Second Temple Judaism, the nature of the Jesus Movement, and the actual issue he addresses.

In light of this context, let me define these key, often misunderstood terms in Paul’s conversation – “righteousness”, “faith”, and “works of law”.

First, “Righteousness”

The Greek terms English translations render “righteous” (dikaios), “righteousness” (dikaiosunē), and “justify” (dikaioō) actually mean “just”, “justice”, “give justice” respectively as in liberating justice. Dikaiosune is the Greek equivalent of the Hebrew tsedakah.   Tsedakah – is the Hebrew prophetic plea against oppressive structures – corruption, greed and the exploitation of the vulnerable. It is a call for right relations in community as in doing to others, so that all may live in peace and freedom. This the focus of Jesus Sermon on the Mount, summed up in the golden rule (Matthew 7:12) hence his call “seek first the kingdom of God and his justice” (Matthew 6:33)

This is how Paul uses the term in his discussion of what many understand as “righteousness by faith”.

Second, “Faith”

The term translations render “faith” (pistis) actually means “faithfulness”. (In Greek argumentation the pistis is the proof of, or faithfulness to one’s claim). The phrase “faith in Jesus Christ” (pistis tou Iesou Christou) both in the Greek and in the context of Paul’s discussion literally reads “faithfulness of Jesus Messiah.” God’s people receive justice through the faithful mediation of Messiah; and this is the actual meaning of the Abrahamic covenant in the context of Jewish Messianic expectation.

Third, “Works of Law”

Jews believed that only practicing Jews were heirs of the Abrahamic promise, and as the covenant community, they were inherently free (John 8:31). To access that freedom one had to become a practicing Jew – signified by the ritual purity of circumcision with its accompanying rituals and regulations. Paul calls these “works of law”. The conviction about circumcision remained entrenched among Jewish Jesus followers including Peter who God confronted in a radical vision to convince him to enter the house of an uncircumcised Gentile (Acts 10). (In fact, even after the Church at Jerusalem Council ruled that Gentiles did not have to receive circumcision, Peter was still so intimidated by the seemingly influential “circumcision faction” that upon their arrival in Antioch where he used to eat with the Gentiles, he led other Jews – including Paul’s ally Barnabas – to withdraw from eating with Gentiles, perhaps for fear of losing his own influence. And Paul calls him out on his hypocrisy [Galatians 3:11-14]).

One may further understand this entrenchment in light of the fact that the early church was a Judaic community; it was not a different religion. The Jesus Movement was another rabbinic school, and Paul a rabbi doing his work of instruction.

Unity in Diversity – the Path to Liberty

Paul does not dismiss the validity of his own Jewish tradition (“Do we then overthrow the law….?” [Romans 3:31b]); rather, he advocates the right of Gentiles to the Abrahamic promise without having to conform to Judaic tradition (“…he will justify the circumcised on the ground of faith and the uncircumcised through that same faith” [Romans 3:30]). Gentiles who resist the very ritual that ratifies the Abrahamic Covenant have a right to that Covenant, because it is not ritual and legal regulations but a spiritual experience –“circumcision of the heart” (Roman 2:29) that produce just relations within a diverse community. If they were to coerce the consciences of these new believers, that would prevent the community from entering into the covenant experience of liberty.

Both the coerced and the coercer are enslaved to the flesh – the rudimentary elements of this world – and that cannot bring true liberty.

A close examination of the context of the use of the term “liberty” will demonstrate the extent to which Paul (and as we will see, Jesus) opposed the coercion of conscience in the interest of “unity”.

Liberty

The term Eleutheria – “freedom” or “liberty” goes as far back as the Ancient Greek city-state Athens[2] around the 8^th century B.C.E. Its fundamental significance rests in whether one is living free (eleutheros) as opposed to being a slave (doulos).[3] The doulos is someone else’s possession and lives according to the dictates of someone else’s will and conscience, while the eleutheros is their own person.[4]

Eleutheria was a major issue in the Hellenistic Roman age and fundamental to the religious and philosophical zeitgeist of the era. First century Apocalyptic Judaism asserts freedom through the Abrahamic Covenant, and this liberty comes to full realization in a coming Messianic age. Many Greeks sought, through the pursuit of knowledge, liberation of the spirit from the corruptible material world – the flesh (Paul uses the term “flesh” to indicate slavery to rules and regulations that have no inherent spiritual virtue). The use of the term in Greek philosophy[5] heralded an era that sought an alternative to authoritative Government and compulsive and ethically bankrupt religious traditions and rituals. First century Jewish Rabbis – Jesus of Nazareth, the great scholar/professor Gamaliel, and Paul of Tarsus, for example – all drew upon both the Hebrew prophetic and the Greek philosophical traditions.

In a certain sense, Eleutheria (liberty) in Greek philosophy go hand in hand with justice (tzedakah/dikaiounē) in Hebrew prophecy. Both Jesus and Paul sought to reform the tyrannical legalistic/ritual-centric element of their own religious tradition by drawing upon these two traditions. In their use of the terms eleutheria (liberty) and dikaiosunē (justice) one observes the confluence of Greek philosophical and Hebrew prophetic traditions in the quest for liberty.

So in this context, liberty does not stand alone. It is inextricably connected to this very important concept in the Hebrew scripture – justice

Liberty and Justice

The statement: “For freedom Messiah has set you free…” is a declaration of God’s justice through Messiah. Paul uses the allegory of Sarah and Hagar (4:21-31) to indicate the extent to which obsession with rituals and legal regulations enslaves the community, and the extent to which unconditional acceptance for the other believer of different conviction liberates it.

You will of course remember that Hagar represents the Old Covenant experience that marks off boundaries, and assumes that God’s vindication comes only to a specific group identified by their traditions. Sarah on the other hand represents the new Covenant experience that frees the Non-Jew to stand before God with the assurance of God’s faithfulness to the Abrahamic Covenant. Here is an important understanding: Paul depicts Sarah as hē eleuthera (the free woman) by quoting the Septuagint version of Genesis 21:10 where Sarah says to Abraham: “Cast out the slave and her child; for the child of the slave will not inherit with my son Isaac.“ But the passage he quotes in Genesis contains neither of the two terms at play in the conversation – doulos (slave), and eleutheros (free). In fact the word the Septuagint passage uses for slave is paidiskēs(“slave girl” or “maid”). Paul maintains paidiskēs in the allegory. However, he omits the phrase “my son Isaac” (Genesis 21:10) and he replaces it with the phrase “the child of the free woman” (Gal 4:30). Here he inserts the term hē eleuthera (the free woman) which is not present in the text from which he quotes.

This is a pivotal point in Paul’s application of the Greek philosophical concept of eleutheria. Hellenistic consciousness personifies eleutheria as “lady liberty” epitomized in the Goddess Artemis. Artemis is “lady liberty” who resists conventional boundaries – roles and rules that restrict her power, and roams the forest with her aides protecting the vulnerable from the tyranny of the powerful.

In this allegory Paul inserts the Greek idea of eleutheria, making Sarah “lady liberty” the representative of the Abrahamic Covenant.[6] By this skillful rhetoric, the Greek idea of eleutheria – liberation from tyrannical rule – becomes the most important element in his conversation about justification. So please understand that this conversation is not merely about liberty. It is actually about justice. Do not forget this as we move further into this study.

Liberating Justice

So Paul’s defense of radical diversity in Galatians makes the case that the Abrahamic covenant is a covenant of liberating justice, specifically with regard to the conscience, not only for practicing Jews, but for everyone who accepts its Messianic fulfilment through Jesus of Nazareth. One can understand this covenantal quest for liberty through the most significant historical event in Israel’s history – the Exodus.

When Israel under Egyptian slavery cried out, God heard their groaning and remembered the covenant with Abraham (Ex 2:23-24). And God said to Moses “Go to Pharaoh and say to him, ‘thus says the Lord: Let my people go, so that they may worship me (emphasis mine) ’….” This is to say God’s covenant is a covenant of justice – liberation from slavery and oppression, and specifically the release of the conscience from those who assume ownership of it.

When Paul, an apocalyptic Jew[7] encountered the Gospel in the embodiment of the risen Messiah, he became convinced (through an unbiased revisit of the scriptures) that this liberation was not only for practicing Jews. The Sarah – Hagar allegory demonstrates the irony that the very people God sets free by the promise of the Abrahamic covenant are now in slavery (Galatians 4: 25), because some believe that enforcing and or conforming to a uniformity of religious tradition and regulation is what defines them as members of the community of the free.

The poignant message in Galatians is that certain practices rest entirely upon the personal convictions of believers, and enforcement of these upon the church nurtures a state of enslavement rather than liberty in Messiah. Paul further develops this idea in explicit terms of liberty of conscience in 1 Corinthians and Romans regarding meat offered to idols.

Freedom of Conscience

“For why should my liberty be subject to the judgement of someone else’s conscience?” (1 Corinthians 10:29)

This is a powerful rhetorical question to the Corinthian enforcers of the Jerusalem Council regulation to abstain from meat offered to idols. It suggests that the church’s ruling on a matter that should be left entirely up to the conscience may be more divisive than unifying. What Paul calls for is not conformity to the rule. Rather he appeals to a conscience that transcends the factious convictions regarding the issue by invoking the Covenant ethic as he does in Galatians – that is, liberating justice – love.

It is important at this point to clarify the meaning of conscience in Paul’s conversation about liberty.

Conscience

Suneidēsis: Of the thirty times that this term appears in the New Testament it appears eight times regarding the issue of meats sacrificed to idols.   While the word in ancient Greek philosophical understanding denotes an internal guide or judge, this internal guide receives instruction from the external factors that form the totality of one’s experience in the world.

We have a tendency to think of conscience as a personal thing, the little angel that sits on your shoulder and whispers to you what is right and what is wrong. But in fact, conscience arises from the socio-historical experience that shapes one’s consciousness. Nietzsche in The Genealogy of Morals^[8] traces its origin to the promise between autonomous individuals in the interest of their survival. Sigmund Freud calls it the “superego” which develops from the ethical restraint placed on the individual by its social/cultural/religious upbringing.   The conscience arises from what Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau discuss as the “Social Contract” that allows communities/ groups to regulate relationship and behavior for the welfare and protection of all.[9] These definitions coincide with the compound structure of the Greek word for “conscience”, suneidēsis – sun (together) and eidēsis (knowing) literally meaning “knowing together” or “common idea”. In this sense, appropriate synonyms for “conscience” are “consciousness” or “conviction”.

In the case of the believing community, the conscience informs as to what constitutes right conduct before God. The conscience is not necessarily an automatic judge of what is absolutely right or wrong; rather it judges one’s decision based on what one understands to be right or wrong given one’s exposure in the world of knowledge and experience.   This is why Paul acknowledges both the “weak” conscience (1 Corinthians 8:7) and the knowledgeable (I Corinthians 8:9) in the issue of meat offered to idols.

The Weak Conscience and the Knowledgeable

The weak conscience lacks knowledge, and remains bound to its native pagan culture, unable to liberate itself from it in spite of the Gospel teaching that “there is no God but one” (1 Corinthians 8:4) (“It is not everyone who has this knowledge. Since some have become accustomed to idols until now, they still think of the food they eat as food offered to an idol; and their conscience being weak is defiled. [I Corinthians 8:4-8]). It is unreflective, lacking the will to examine whether a particular custom “brings us close to God (1 Corinthians 8:8)   Paul says that such people are condemned if they eat because they do not act from faith (Romans 14:23). The knowledgeable conscience disassociates meat from the non-existent idol to which it was offered, (I Corinthian 8:8, 9). Paul says: “I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself: but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean (Roman 14:14).

Contrary to popular preaching on this issue, Paul does not favor the weak conscience over the knowledgeable. While he asks the knowledgeable to defer to the weak, he also asks the weak not to trample the liberty of those who eat (I Corinthians 10:29).   In Romans 14: 2-4 he states it even more forcefully: “Some believe in eating anything, while the weak eat only vegetables,”[10] but whether one eats or abstain, or observes or not observes a day above another, as long as they do it “in honor of the Lord” no one should judge them (Romans 14:1-6). Both the knowledgeable who disregard the sensibility of the weak, and the weak who impose their conscience on the knowledgeable – both of these groups lack spiritual maturity and remain bound to the flesh (“…I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ…for you are still bound to the flesh.” [1 Corinthians 3:2-3]). It is this spiritual immaturity, not the diversity of conviction – that creates the disunity and keeps the church in a state of spiritual bondage.

The Free Conscience: Knowledge and Love

Regarding the conscience, one can identify two levels of liberty in the conversation about idol meat. The first level is the level of knowledge or awareness. The second level is love. According to Paul, knowledge without love is destructive to the body: “knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” (I Corinthians 8:2). However, Paul believes that knowledge is an important gateway to spiritual growth and liberty of conscience. Those who lack knowledge he describes as “infants in Christ” who are “not ready for solid food” because they “are still of the flesh” (1 Corinthians 3:2-3).   In Galatians, those of the flesh are both the “circumcision faction”, and those who comply. These are “in slavery” to rituals and regulations, so that they will not accept diversity in the faith. Paul aims to give such believers “solid food” when he considers them ready for it (I Corinthians 3:1-3). And as we can see in his epistles, Paul does deliver the “solid food”.

“If you let yourself be circumcised, Christ is of no benefit to you.” – Galatians 5:2

“If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced, because of that for which I give thanks?” – I Corinthians 10:30

…In the Lord, nothing is unclean in itself; but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean.” – Romans 14:14

“In the Lord, man is not independent of woman nor woman of man…everything comes from God.” God is the only head. Headship is flesh. – I Corinthians 11:11-12

Solid food.

As Paul notes, not everyone “has … knowledge,” and not everyone is at the same stage in their spiritual development (Romans 14: 1). There will always be diverse practices and convictions in the faith, thus Paul calls the deeply divided Corinthian community to a “more excellent way” – Love (I Corinthians 12:31 – 13:13). Based on all that Paul has been saying, this love is not conformity to the loudest voice. Rather it is respect for all the voices of faith.   In Romans he prefaces his appeal to accept the conviction of the other thus: “Owe no one anything except to love one another… love your neighbor as yourself…love is the fulfillment of the law” (Romans 13: 8-10).   This is the context of Roman 2: 13-15, where he says that the conscience of the Gentiles who do not possess the law “bears witness to “what the law requires.” – “love your neighbor as yourself.” As I noted above, the well-being and safety of every person is the root of the conscience. That is why, as Paul succinctly states it, one does not have to have Torah to understand this timeless ethic. This reflects Jesus’ teaching on the ten commands that they are really about love, i.e., liberating justice. And this defines love of God: “…the second commandment is like the first: love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39; cf. 1 John 4: 20-21). Interestingly, the ancient Greco-Roman world is renowned for its great piety[11] – its love for the gods – demonstrated by elaborate rituals; but the culture was ethically bankrupt.[12] The great philosophers arose to address this ethical void. This same empty piety also existed in ancient Israel hence prophetic oracles such as:

I hate and despise your festivals, and take no delight in your solemn assemblies (Amos 5:21). “…who asked this from you? … New moon and Sabbath and calling of convocation …my soul hates; they have become a burden to me (Isaiah 1: 12-14). But let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream.(Amos 12-14)

Love for God depends not on ritual purity but upon the extent to which the faith community accepts and regards with respect each other in serving God through Messiah. This is true liberty of conscience – the only path to Unity.

Now, it is important to understand that the issues of conscience we have been discussing are not issues of moral rectitude, but issues of ritual purity. Let us examine these in light of the issue that now threatens to divide the Seventh-day Adventist church.

Rituals, Conscience and the Case of Women’s Ordination

Paul believes and teaches that some stipulations in scripture may be entirely a matter of conscience – and therefore factious – and especially so because of their purely ritualistic function: (“Some judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own mind. … “I know and am persuaded in the Lord that nothing is unclean in itself….” [Romans 14:5,14]). Nothing in the Old Testament indicates that circumcision is not necessary.   But the Church came to terms with the reality of a faith community that was no longer purely Jewish. (This makes the case against a literalistic application of scriptures that to Paul constitutes a fixation to the flesh – a constant diet of milk that impedes spiritual maturity.)

Paul’s arguments suggest that a ruling of the church may not produce spiritual fruit because of the factious nature of the issue. When that ruling is factious, i.e., when it violates the conscience of some, the Church must appeal to a higher conscience, which allows everyone to practice the faith according to the dictates of their conscience (“Let all be fully convinced in their own minds” [Romans 14:5b]).

In doing this, it fulfills the law – “love your neighbor as yourself” (Romans 13:8).

It is vitally important to point out here that the question of women’s ordination, like the question of circumcision is rooted in ritual purity. One is about the foreskin and the other about blood (Lev 12). The latter has bred an age-long misogynous culture that remains consciously and unconsciously entrenched – especially in religion. It is old covenant consciousness. This is why Paul states in Galatians 3:28: “There is no longer Jew or Greek…male and female….” This is New Covenant liberty in Messiah.

In light of this, the case of the current issue over women’s ordination is clearly a question of conscience, and that on two levels. First, if one approaches the scripture from a truly literalistic standpoint, then it seems that the early church in different regions acted according to conscience regarding the function of women. For example, women in Corinth and Rome functioned as prophets, teachers, and apostles (1 Corinthians 11; Romans 16), while “brethren” in Ephesus wanted them to shut up and go home to their rightful roles as child-bearers (1Timothy 2). This is one major reason why after years of Bible study by the SDA church, there is yet no conclusive consensus to prohibit the ordination of women. Some side with the “brethren” in Ephesus, and some with the sisters and brothers in Rome based on their cultural inclinations.

If all the lengthy studies commissioned by the church conclude that the Bible does not prohibit the ordination of women, the current issue as it stands needs not divide the church. If the early church judged the ritual act of circumcision – a clear scriptural mandate – to have no sanctifying value in and of itself, then even more so the question of women’s ordination that has no clear scriptural mandate. The compulsion to conform to the conscience of one faction in the church indicates that the community as a whole has yet to achieve freedom of conscience toward spiritual maturity. In the context of Galatians, this inability to accept differences in this matter of conscience, leaves us in slavery, bound to flesh and unable to fully access the freedom that comes through Messiah. There can be no unity if the conscience of one group is allowed to coerce that of another.

Liberty and Unity in Christ

Let me now conclude by showing you that Jesus’ prayer for oneness among believers in John 17:21 comes in the context of liberty similar to what I have been talking about in the writings of Paul.

According to John, Jesus states, “If you continue in my word you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31). This proclamation emerges from the overarching theme of love in the Johannine writings (John, 1, 2, &3 John). John couches all the Jesus sayings about truth and love in the context of the Abrahamic Covenant. It is in this context that we get a true understanding of Jesus’ prayer that the believing community “be one” (John 17:21). What makes them one is love for one another.

In John, the audience of Jesus’ statement on truth and freedom comprises Jews “who had believed in him.” Their response is to defend their inherent freedom through the Abrahamic Covenant (John 8:33) but Jesus replies that their actions do not demonstrate that they really grasp the freedom that the Covenant offers: “If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing what Abraham did, but you are trying to kill me” (8:40) because there is no place in your heart for my word”(8:37). The central passage in John’s writings reflects Paul’s interpretation of the Abrahamic covenant in Galatians and Romans: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that anyone who believes … may have eternal life” (John 3:16). God’s covenant of justice is one of love for all who accept the promise through Messiah, not just for a particular group who lives according to certain rules and regulations. According to John, the truth Jesus speaks of is this truth of God’s love and the believer’s faith(fullness)[13] to it, namely to love one another:

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another…. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34; cf. I John 4:21). “This is the message that we have heard from him and we proclaim to you, that God is light…. Whoever loves a brother or sister lives in the light” (1 John 1: 5; 2:10)

Love brings the believing community into liberating justice and thereby, it lives out the very faith(fullness) of Messiah. Love is the truth that sets us free.

Jesus prays that the believing community “be one” (John 17:21) as a testimony to the world of the love of God (“…so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them as you have loved me” [John 17:23]) In the light of the Abrahamic Covenant, the oneness for which he prays is not conformity to rules that do not even reflect love.   Jesus was killed precisely because rather than conforming to the letter of the law, he taught and lived its spirit – namely love

(“…in everything, do to others as you would have them do to you…” [Matthew 7:12]).

Love is the truth that brings true freedom and unites all believers in Christ. Jesus invites the believing community into a deeply spiritual experience – the very Christ experience. According to John, to love is to abide in God (1 John 4:16), to be “begotten from God” (1 John 4:7), and to pass from death into life (1 John 3:14). This is to say that the believing community may also become one with God as Jesus and God are one. This is the “in Christ” experience of true liberty into which Paul invites the church:

In Christ “there is no longer Jew or Greek…slave or free…male and female…” (Galatians 3:28)

“In Christ, woman is not independent of man or man…of woman…all things come from God” (1 Corinthians 11:11-12 God is the only head.

In Christ “nothing is unclean in itself” (Romans 14:14)

The tendency to strive over these temporal things stems from our earthly limitations. In Christ, fear of uncertainty subsides and we rest in the mystery of God’s being. Such an experience cannot be voted, legislated, or coerced. It requires spiritual discipline, and instruction in the true spirit of scriptures through responsible Christ-filled exemplary discipleship. It requires a focus on growing members that is at minimum equal to that of growing membership. This is hard, much harder than enforcing conformity to the “elementary rudiments” of our individual consciences.

But it is the road on which Jesus Messiah invites the church:

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

“I know, and am persuaded in” Messiah, that this is the path to freedom.

Notes & References:

[1] E.P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress Publishers, 1977)

[2] Ancient Athens distinguished itself among the Greek city-states in its quest for eleutheria – democratic freedom – vis a vis the total enslavement of the people to the state as was the case in its neighbor city-state Sparta. Athens became a center of free thinking, the hub of Greek philosophy, and the birthplace of modern democracy. The great philosophers Socrates, Plato and Aristotle lived in Athens. But it is significant to note that the Athenians voted to kill Socrates in 399 B.C.E. because Socrates sided with Spartan oligarchy, placing law over the individual, and opposed freedom of thought in defense of what he regards as unchangeable truth. (See Michel Foucault, “The Ethics of the Concern of the Self as a Practice of Freedom,” in Ethics Subjectivity and Truth [New York: The New Press, 1999], 281-301)

[3] Mogens Herman Hansen “Democratic Freedom and the Concept of Freedom in Plato and Aristotle,” https://vitruvianman.wikispaces.com/file/view/greek+freedom.pdf, 2, retrieved 6 June 2017.

[4] Ibid

[5] In the Hellenistic and Roman periods, Philosophy functioned as religion, “especially among the educated.” It “provided a criticism or re-interpretation of traditional religion, and offered moral and spiritual direction” generally absent from ritualistic and cult-centered religion. See, Everett Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity (Grand Rapid, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1993), 300. In general, Greek philosophy functioned in the same way as Hebrew prophetic tradition.

[6] One even wonders whether the correspondence between the Hebrew Heroine Sarah and the Greek Goddess Artemis in Paul’s use of Isaiah 51: 1:4 (“…the children of the desolate woman will be more than the children of her that is married….”) is merely co-incidental. According to the myth, Artemis who chooses to remain an unmarried virgin is the goddess of childbirth.

[7] Foundational to Jewish apocalyptic understanding especially in the period of the second temple was the coming in of a new age of God’s reign through Messiah the arbiter of justice who liberates God’s people from oppressive principalities and powers.

[8] Fredriech Nietzche, On The Genealogy of Morals (Zur Genealogie der Moral, 1887), trans, Walter Kaufmann and R.J. Hollingdale (New York: Vintage Press, 1967).

[9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_contract, retrieved 12 June, 2017.

[10] Paul is not speaking of eating in terms of health, but in terms of cultic superstition.

[11] Ferguson, 300.

[12] Bart D. Ehrman, A Brief Introduction to the New Testament (New York: OUP, 2013), 22-24.

[13] As explained on page 4 above.

Olive Hemmings is professor of religion at Washington Adventist University. This paper was originally presented at the 2017 Unity Conference in London, England, June 15-17, 2017. The latest issue of Spectrum, which will arrive in subscribers’ mailboxes next week, will feature all of the Unity Conference presentations. If you are not yet a subscriber to Spectrum, click here to find out how you can become one today.

Image Credit:Photo by Daniel Chen on Unsplash

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-05-interview.png

The Advent movement began in the United States after the Great Disappointment in 1844, with the Seventh-day Adventist Church becoming an official denomination in 1863. In 1979, Charles E. Bradford was elected to succeed Neal C. Wilson as president of the North American Division (NAD). Wilson, who served as a vice president in the General Conference with responsibility for North America, moved on to become president of the General Conference. Bradford, the first black person to serve as NAD president, and his administrative team, were instrumental in the NAD’s development toward functioning as a division territory of the Adventist Church.

With interconnectedness at many administrative levels, the North American Division was not viewed as its own entity before 1985. Just a bit more than three decades later, the separation of the two entities has taken a big, physical step forward as the NAD moves into its own headquarters in Columbia, Maryland, in September.

In the following interview, Daniel R. Jackson, president of the Seventh-day Adventist Church in North America since his election in 2010, shared his thoughts about the move, the division, and the General Conference, just a few weeks before the division was scheduled to fully occupy the new headquarters 12.5 miles northeast of the church’s world headquarters in Silver Spring.

WATCH the interview or read the full transcript below:

Dan Weber, NAD Communication director: This month, the division moves to our new location. With this move, what are you most excited about?
 
Jackson: We are sitting at the entrance to a very exciting place for the North American Division. It’s not finished yet, but we are in what will become known as the Charles E. Bradford Conference Center. What excites me the most about this space is that we’ll have not only areas for meeting, but also areas for training. This part of the building offers a huge amount [of space] for the mission of the church where we can also utilize it for different activities in the community. It is a multipurpose area.

To be honest, this whole building makes me excited because of the statement it is making: The North American Division, as a part of the world mission of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, is growing. That ought to make people rejoice. The mission of the church is going to move forward — it is moving forward, and it is going to move forward in an increasing way in this division.

 
What was the area we are sitting in? 
 
There was a huge tree here when we bought the building. The architect had a beautiful vision of a gathering space for the conference center. And so the idea of the atrium was born. We dug out the tree, and there is now a glass ceiling right above us — it’s almost all in place.
 
Through the years, the natural progression toward growth and fulfilling division needs has occurred. How is this move part of the development of the NAD as a world division?
 
There are several practical reasons for the move. There are some philosophical reasons as well. But practically speaking, in the offices in Silver Spring that we shared with the General Conference, both the NAD and GC were just running out of space. That was a little impetus to consider what we might do.

But the far greater reason, as I see it, is that the North American Division is one of the youngest divisions in the world church—and it’s the only division that did not have its own headquarters. For many years, for most of the life of the church, the North American Division ministries have been taken care of by the General Conference. The people who had responsibilities for family ministries or for any other department not only served the world, but they also served the North American Division. That really [started to] change in the mid-1980s.

Every organization progresses. It moves ahead. Something that is born has to grow. The move to this address has everything to do with the growth of the North American Division and the missional vision of the NAD. Not only now, but for the future.

How does the NAD purchasing and moving into a new building benefit the local church and church member in the long run? In what ways will the NAD having its own headquarters affect them?
 
For the person sitting in the pew, looking at a new building, the question is there: Why can’t that money go into mission?

There’s more than one part to that answer. We’ve said to our employees again and again that the move to Columbia is not a move about a new building or having more space; it has everything to do with mission.

You know, Jesus is coming soon, and as a division we have started to implement strategies and programs that are affecting the local church. We are working very hard with the Mission to the Cities objectives. We have what we call the “Compassion Movement,” the North American Division’s expression of the church’s Total Member Involvement [initiative].

We needed more space to dream, to plan, and to collaborate in order to develop the kind of programs that will impact the local church.

And yes, we do impact the local church. People might not think it’s noticeable, but the fact is that what happens in the local church had a seed planted by some individual in the General Conference, in the North American Division, that grew and developed and became a part of the tradition or the practice of Seventh-day Adventism.

But whether it is the fact that we are working with local congregations to plant new churches or are assisting congregations in their compassion movement – that comes out of the NAD. And we are now in the process of planning how we can reach out more effectively to our youth and young adults — developing the kinds of programs where we will actually bring people in from the local church and develop materials to really capture the minds of our young people.

You mention being intentionally mission focused — part of that is being a good steward. Members will likely wonder how much debt we have incurred with the move.
 
As we move into the building this September, we will have no debt. We have paid for this building out of reserves held in a fund that otherwise was being utilized for rent. During the past 20 years we’ve probably paid in the vicinity of $20 million in rent, and yet we have nothing to show for it.

We had very good landlords who gave us desks and power and air conditioning, but we didn’t own anything. As a matter-of-fact, one of the only things we will bring to this building in terms of office furniture is the desk in my office, which all the NAD presidents have all sat behind. Though we have expended considerable funds, the fact is they are now invested in something we actually own.

One final question. What does this building mean, moving forward, about the relationship with the GC? 

This move has nothing to do with relations — or poor relations as some people perceive. Do we have some differences of opinion in the world church? Yes, we do. But the move to this building has everything to do with mission — absolutely nothing to do with somebody being upset with somebody.

Just the other day I received an email from a man who wrote, “I have heard from sources very high up in the North American Division that there are lawyers currently at work with — outside lawyers — to finalize the separation between the North American Division and the General Conference.”

I replied, “There are no lawyers. And I think I’m fairly high up in the North American Division. There are no lawyers representing the North American Division doing any such thing.”

In a discussion with Elder [Ted N.C.] Wilson, [president of the General Conference], I said, “What you cannot see when you’re close to the trees, when you move back you can all of a sudden see it.” I added, “You will be amazed at the loyalty of the North American Division when you see it at a distance.

The NAD has been and continues to be one of the most faithful divisions in the world when it comes to the mission of the church. Our people, our administrators across this division, are committed to the goals, the dreams, and the aspirations of the Seventh-day Adventist Church—worldwide.
 
And part of that faithfulness is a dedication to the mission.
 
Our people have been faithful, they are faithful, they will continue to be faithful. And what is true of our people sitting in the pew is true of our administrators across this division. I see this [move] as a very positive expansion of the mission of God’s church on earth.

The North American Division is growing, it is expanding, and by God’s grace, and through the power of the Holy Spirit, His mission will be achieved in this division — and then we can go home. Jesus is coming soon, and we’ll be able to go home.

* * *

Behind the Scenes
Information about the purchase of the NAD's new headquarters

The property at 9705 Patuxent Woods was purchased for roughly $19.5 million dollars. The building is about 120,000 square feet in size and sits on 11 acres of land. The current space occupied at the General Conference by the NAD is around 35,000 square feet.
 
Renovations in the new NAD headquarters will run about $11 million dollars. The building was originally built in the mid-1980s and needed some maintenance work done to fix what had been neglected. Space on the first floor with also be utilized for the Charles E. Bradford Conference Center, which will allow the NAD space to hold year-end meeting and other meetings that would normally be held outside the headquarters at a substantial cost. The cost of the new building runs around $258 per square foot.
 
The NAD did not incur any debt in the purchase of the building or the renovations involved. Funds were transferred from reserves to cover these costs. Also, the GC gave the NAD an amount of $3 million dollars to help pay for the new headquarters. In the past, the GC has done this for other world divisions establishing new headquarters.
 
During the past 20 years the NAD has spent more than $20 million dollars in rent and services to the GC.

Stats & Facts
Some info on the unique features to expect in the new building

The North American Division headquarters is located in Columbia, Maryland. Here are some interesting, unique features of the glass-enclosed building, and other helpful information.

Office space: 120,000 square feet
Computer training room for 10 people
Second floor “innovation lab”
The C.D. Brooks Prayer Chapel: seating for 25; 7 ft. x 8 ft. stained-glass window
The Charles Bradford Conference Center: includes an auditorium for 500, an auditorium for 170 with theater seating; three conference rooms, and an atrium
Recording Studio: 4,500 square feet
Exercise room
Commercial kitchen for catering special events
Nearest lodging: Hampton Inn & Suites Columbia/South, .25 miles; and SpringHill Suites by Marriott Columbia, .25 miles
Closest airport: Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport (BWI), 15 miles
Distance to General Conference: 12.5 miles

* * *

The interview and information above were originally published by the NAD Communication team on the North American Division website and are reprinted here with permission.

Images Courtesy of NAD Communication / Pieter Damsteegt

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

Inline Images: 

2017-08-07 Interview.png

Kaleb Eisele in Orangeburg, South Carolina, hopes that his short profiles featuring a wide variety of Adventists will initiate conversation and encourage empathy, connecting people through stories.

Question: You have started a "Humans of Adventism" page, modeled on the hugely popular "Humans of New York" page that pictures random, ordinary people on the streets of New York along with captions that tell a little of their stories. When did you officially take your project public and what made you want to launch it in the first place?

Answer: "Humans of Adventism" has been in the works for over a year now. It started as a project I wanted to do with our church Facebook page. I wanted to do photos of our members and share their stories, but kept I running into issues featuring our congregation as they are almost entirely older, more private people. 

Six months ago, I reached out to a group of other Adventist content creators I'd met through "The Haystack," presenting the bare bones of "Humans of Adventism" to them. They pitched in when they could, and we hammered out the details. [Read Kaleb Eisele's "Haystack" post here.]

I had to ask a lot of questions before the launch: how would I choose whom to feature? How would I find stories after cycling through people I knew? Where would the photos come from? What will I allow on the page and what won't I? Who will do the work? Each of these were answered over time, but I'm always looking for ways to improve on what I do.

But why did I want to do it in the first place? Because I know the impact "Humans of New York" has had on me. I can actually feel myself growing more empathetic as I read the stories and learn about the obstacles people are facing. It's a glimpse behind the public mask; it's context for why people might act or believe the way they do. 

My experiences outside of the Adventist bubble have made it clear to me that we need this kind of bridge building — we need to be able to understand each other better as Adventists, but we also have a lot of work to do in being relevant and relatable people in our communities.

So can you answer a few of those basic questions for us? How many people have you featured so far? How frequently do you intend to post? How do you choose whom you will picture? How will you ensure a good cross section of people?

I have interviewed over thirty Adventists for the page so far. The stories are scheduled out for a few months already, generally set for Wednesdays and Fridays at 3 p.m. unless I'm doing a special series or something. 

Choosing interviewees at this point is based on whether they are willing to be vulnerable and whether they can provide a photo I can use. I'm working hard to expand our abilities to include more diversity, especially in age. Millennials and Gen Z tend to be far more comfortable having their photos taken and posted outside of a studio or family setting. 

Photos aside, though, featuring a good cross-section of people will always be a deliberate effort. There are so many barriers dividing us in society and within the church: age, race, orientation, social class, language, ideology, personality, health, involvement level. There's never going to be a time when I think "Humans of Adventism" is representative of our church as a whole, but that will always be a goal I pursue. 

I have plans in motion to set up physical representatives and photographers who can actually visit and speak to people in person, but that's a ways off. For now, I'm limited to the research and communication I can conduct online. The internet is an incredible tool if you use it right, and I intend to continue my deliberate efforts to reach into pockets of people who I am not already a part of.

Do you have geographic parameters (like only featuring people in the U.S.), or is your page intended to be global? Your page says that the pictures are provided by the interviewees. This seems to be a departure from most other "Humans of" pages, which are hosted by a photographer. I suppose you decided this because you want to feature people who are not near you? Do you have rules about what kinds of photos you will use or not use?

One of the big reasons it took me so long to make "Humans of Adventism" public was that, at first, I had my mind set on doing the photography myself. After three months went by and I had only interviewed four people, I decided that I was standing in the way of stories being told. 

It definitely diverges from other “Humans of” pages in method, but I'd like to think it shares most of the same kind of mission: people connecting through stories. 

For the early stages, I've been largely limited to Adventist communities that I already have contact with, but I will push across geographic borders as time goes on. In every area I see "Humans of Adventism" like a root system: we start with what we can do and follow the paths that open up for us. But even things that seem simple, like choosing the right photo, can be a challenge. I try to only use images that speak life and are decent quality—no selfies, very few studio-esque images if I can help it. The image tells a story as much as the text does. 

It seems that you do not post your subjects' names on your page. Why is that?

Anonymity is not a set policy for me, but I do value the way it's worked so far. There's a certain vulnerability to people when they know they won't be directly tagged in a photo. I want honesty and candid conversation, so I leave it up to the interviewee. If someone wanted to have their name included, I would have no problem with that.

What do you hope that your "Humans of Adventism" page will accomplish?

I want "Humans of Adventism" to initiate conversation. For those of us in the Adventist community, I hope that it will help each of us explore our own beliefs and bias as well as expose us to those of the people we share a faith with. 

But there's another mission here — a desperately necessary ministry. I feel that the gap between Adventists and the people we are supposed to be serving and reaching is growing at an alarming rate. A lot of that is due to how we've handled the mission God has given us. In 2017, we have to go all the way back to our basic connection to others: the human experience. Without first establishing a relationship, I think we close ourselves to reaching the people around us.

Are there specific questions that you ask your subjects?

A few, yes. Sometimes I give them a question based on something I know about them. But the answers rarely end up the way I expect them to. I'll ask something like “What is an Adventist’s role in the community?” but the conversation will turn toward a past experience the interviewer had. Other times,  someone comes to me with something specific they'd like to share and we talk through that. The topic isn’t always directly related to their church experience or faith. Sometimes there's just something important happening in their life that they need to talk about. 

What has been your favorite, or most surprising, post so far?

It's hard to narrow it down because of how differently they turn out, but one does stick out. I got in contact with a young woman from Andrews who was so firm in her faith — not just in Christ, but in the Adventist church. It was so refreshing to hear about her experience. She told me she felt that if everyone had experienced religion the way she had, they would never leave the church. 

So many stories from my peers are about disconnecting, about barely hanging on to their relationships with their churches, so I was really inspired by her positive outlook.

What is your day job? What other projects are you working on?

I manage equipment for a pest control company during the weekdays. I have several hours during the day where I am monitoring things and have the freedom to work on things like "Humans of Adventism." I've never been idle — my hands and mind are always engaged in something. I spend a lot of time helping strategize for our little church, and I also write for other publications and websites whenever I can. I publish a monthly piece through "The Haystack."

Where did you go to school?

A lot of people can claim to be a product of the Adventist educational system, but when I say it, I mean it literally. My great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, and my wife and I all graduated from Indiana Academy. I went to a little elementary school just up the street from there for my first eight years, spent my first two years of college at Kettering, and then ended up attending the College of Charleston where I graduated in 2016 with a degree in English.

How did transitioning to a non-Adventist school impact you?

I honestly believe that was what sparked my anxiety about the current state of our church. I'd been led to believe that public colleges were full of sinful people who hated Christians. What I found was the complete opposite. If anything, I found people who were interested in getting to know about my faith. My professors were willing to work around any Sabbath activities to accommodate me. The rare uncomfortable situation I found myself in was just between myself and someone who needed to see that I actually cared about them. 

I feel that much of our negative reputation in the world has been earned simply by not loving people who don't share our beliefs. I really struggled with that. I saw atheists and agnostics dedicating far more time to loving causes than my fellow church members. For a while it was such a problem that I stopped attending church. When I heard sermons talking about how superior Adventists were or how sinful everyone else was, it just didn't match what I was actually seeing in the world.

You are 25 years old. You said that many of your peers are disconnecting from their church. Have more of your Adventist friends that you grew up with still attend church, or have the majority decided to leave?

I was lucky enough to grow up with a stellar group of friends, the majority of whom have remained in the Adventist church in some capacity. But there is a clear and major disconnect even among those who have stayed. 

Ironically, it's the study of Jesus’ life that’s driving much of this. We look at His attitude and how He handled interaction, then we look at how we're being encouraged to interact, and in many cases the two are nearly opposite. Of those who stayed, I feel that all of us recognize that something is wrong. We're just struggling to figure out what it is.

Why have you decided to remain an Adventist?

I stopped going to church for about two years, but I never stopped — or even wanted to stop — understanding the Bible through the Adventist lens. I believe that the majority of what we teach is rooted in something beautiful and theologically sound. My main concerns are with the culture of Adventism — the priorities we've made our idols. 

I rarely feel that building relationships with non-Adventists is a priority when I visit other churches, but I've found something different in Orangeburg, where I live. That's what brought me back. In the past few years our church has undertaken an incredible change and nearly doubled its membership. We started focusing outward. We started confronting our own barriers head-on. I was allowed to contribute and minister using the skills I had worked so hard to develop. We started talking about the differences in communication between age groups and grew more empathetic across our generational and other lines. I feel like my church is moving forward. The Bible itself is what kept me Adventist, but Orangeburg is what brought me back to church.

Can you tell us more about your involvement with the Orangeburg Church in South Carolina?

Somehow several members of my family relocated to Orangeburg from various other places at roughly the same time. At the time, the church members were discussing closing its doors. This provided an incredible opportunity to rebuild from the ground up and allowed us the flexibility to start ministering using the strengths that we each brought to the table. My education and passion is internet ministry. I stood before my congregation and presented that idea to them. Few followed all the details, but to their credit, they pitched in and outfitted the church with the technology necessary to make it happen. I am a Sabbath School teacher now and handle our social media. Occasionally, I also give the sermon.

Where do you see yourself in five years? What is your dream job? Where do you see the "Humans of Adventism" page going?

I'm tied to principles, not specifics. I am open to God’s call. If "Humans of Adventism" becomes a powerful force for spreading His love, I hope I can still be a part of that on whatever level He wants it to be. I would love to go full-time, to be able to meet my financial responsibilities traveling and interviewing Adventists and helping churches reach my peers and our younger brothers and sisters in a relevant way. But maybe that's not God’s plan for me. I could see "Humans of Adventism" solidifying into a series I could take and preach on or maybe create a podcast. Whenever it is and wherever I am, I exist to be used for God’s will.

Image Courtesy of Kaleb Eisele.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

Screenshot 2017-08-11 at 1.01.38 PM.png

Ben Clausen frequently referred to the idea of “paradox” in his July 29 response to Chapter 6 in Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio at the Roy Branson Legacy Sabbath School (RBLSS) in Loma Linda, California. The title of this chapter is “Adventists and Creation: Jubilation or Confrontation.”

Johnsson served as the Editor of the Adventist Review for many years after doing so at Spicer Adventist University in India and Andrews University in the United States. A specialist in the study of the New Testament, especially the “Letter to the Hebrews,” he has published many books and articles.

Clausen works at the Geoscience Research Institute in Loma Linda, California. Although the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists operates both it and Loma Linda University, which is just across the street, they are organizationally separate.

According to its website, the GRI “conducts research with the dual purposes of adding to scientific knowledge and improving our understanding of the relationship of the physical world and the biblical account of origins.” Clausen’s professional life embodies these different purposes.

As a specialist in granite, he is “adding to scientific knowledge” with the serious geological research he is doing on his own and with scholars on other campuses. This is resulting in an impressive number of articles in scientific journals as well as papers and posters at national and international conferences.

The concept of “paradox” is one of his current contributions to “improving our understanding of the relationship of the physical world and the biblical account of origins.” This is the one he emphasized on July 29.

Clausen said that he avows both the biblical stories about creation, as Adventists typically interpret them, and the geological data, as secular scientists usually interpret them, even though as of yet he knows of no “comprehensive model” which integrates them. Instead of choosing one or the other, or jettisoning both of them, he avers both of them as a “paradox.”

I can think of at least five ways that people use the word “paradox” in such conversations. One says that groups sometimes do things that don’t fit with what they believe, as when a denomination which announces that Jesus is coming soon builds institutions that are designed to last a long time. Another says that, as in the image that looks like a duck in one glance and a rabbit in another one, what we see depends upon how we look at things. A third says that science and religion are so different that assessing the claims of either of them by the convictions of the other makes as much sense as scoring baseball points with basketball rules. A fourth says that we flourish because every yin has a yang, every truth an error, every beauty an ugliness and, presumably, every creation story an evolutionary one. The fifth says that we have not yet discovered another truth which integrates the seemingly contradictory ones in a single coherent unity. The fifth is the meaning that Clausen seemed to have had in mind.

People will vary in how helpful they find inserting this concept into the discussion. A snap decision either way might not be best. I recommend watching the video and thinking about it. Again: Always think for yourself; never think by yourself!

The Roy Branson Legacy Sabbath School thanks Adventist Forum, which Branson helped establish, and Spectrum, which he once edited, for this opportunity to share our sessions with others.

For more information, please visit bransonlegacysabbathschool.com.

WATCH: Ben Clausen on Chapter 6 in "Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio" by William G. Johnsson

See also:
William G. Johnsson Explains Why He Wrote Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio,
The Professors Valentine Expand Upon Chapter 1 in "Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio",
Laura Alipoon Highlights Adventist Diversity in Chapter 2 of “Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio”,
Calvin Thomsen’s Discussion of Chapter 3 in “Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio” Assails Neo-Calvinism,
Carla Gober-Park Expands “the Main Thing” in Chapter 4 of “Where Are We Headed?” by William G. Johnsson, and
Leo Ranzolin’s Response to Chapter 5 in “Where Are We Headed?” Poses Three Questions and Cites One Poet

Dr. David Larson is Professor of Religion at Loma Linda University.

Image Credit: Video Still

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-12 Summer Reading Group.png

We are excited that this year’s Spectrum Summer Reading Group will focus on a work written by someone familiar to many readers of this website. Ronald Osborn is the author of numerous essays and books broaching issues ranging from creationism to the thought of Noam Chomsky. In his recently published book Humanism and the Death of God, his question is an ethical one.

“Can we have a rationally coherent, morally compelling, and historically sustainable discourse, as well as practice, of humanistic values and human rights without a ‘thick’ metaphysical or religious framework?” Osborn asks. And to answer it, he critically engages some of the most prominent post-Enlightenment critics of religion—Charles Darwin, Karl Marx, and Friedrich Nietzsche.

Several early reviewers express their appreciation of the book’s incisive and balanced analysis and argumentation. “This book,” Samuel Moyn writes, “is finely wrought for both believers and skeptics alike.” So, we welcome everyone—skeptics, believers, and those somewhere between (or, perhaps, beyond)—to join us in this late summer conversation about important and timely issues and ideas.

Here is the reading/posting schedule we are planning to follow:

Aug. 18 - Chapter 1: Naturalism and Nihilism, pp.1-23 (Daryll Ward)

Aug. 25 - Chapter 3: Rights After Marx, pp. 75-127 (Lisa Clark-Diller)

Sept. 1 - Chapter 2: Dignity After Darwin, pp. 23-74 (Clifford Goldstein)

Sept. 8 -  Chapter 4: Equality After Nietzsche, pp. 128-159 (Yi Shen Ma)

Sept. 15 - Chapter 4: Equality After Nietzsche, pp. 159-175 – (TBD)

Sept. 22 - Chapter 5: Beyond Humanism, pp.176-207 – (Brenton Reading)

Sept. 29 - Chapter 5: Beyond Humanism, pp. 208-232 – (Nicholas Miller)

As in past years, you are invited to order or download your copy of the book and join in the discussion. The book’s publisher, Oxford University Press, is generously offering a 30% discount for books purchased directly through its website. Feel free to leave a comment below if you are planning to participate (and to receive the coupon code).

Zane Yi is an assistant professor of religion at Loma Linda University’s School of Religion where he teaches courses in philosophy and theology. He serves as an officer in the Society of Adventist Philosophers.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-13 Voices PC Daniel Xisto.png

I’M NOT OK.

A lot of you have been calling, texting, and checking in to see if Andrea, Max, and I are ok, and in all honesty I’m not ok.

I’m not ok because white supremacists, white nationalists, Neo-Nazis, KKK members, and other domestic terrorist groups thought they could come into my town and cause my friends to fear.

I’m not ok because some folks don’t denounce these groups unambiguously.

I’m not ok that a young woman and two police officers died as a result of this alt-right, fragile-ego foolishness.

I’m not ok because on Friday night after attending an interfaith, multi-ethnic, intergenerational prayer vigil in which God’s love was palpable, in preparation for the day ahead, we were told that 300 men with torches were outside the church and it was unsafe for us to leave the building.

I’m not ok because some folks, sipping their Starbucks, following the news on Twitter, posting comments in perfect safety from their phones, have the audacity to question what we, who are on the ground, are doing in response to what is happening, and asking why aren’t we posting pics of what great activists we are.

I’m not ok because some folks aren’t bothered by what is going on.

I’m not ok because I had to call our church members and let them know that some parts of Charlottesville were going to be dangerous.

I’m not ok because I had to present them with the horrible option of staying home if they felt unsafe with bringing their children out in such conditions, or gathering to pray for God’s protection on our community.

I’m not ok with a whole lot more than this, but even though I’m not ok, I’m going to be alright.

I’m going to be alright because I have so many friends and family who have been checking up on me.

I’m going to be alright because Scripture foretells that the days of the hate groups that came into town this weekend are numbered.

I’m going to be alright because clergy in Charlottesville have been meeting for months planning ways to combat the hate we were anticipating yesterday with compassion.

I’m going to be alright because even though there are folks who think they are courageously posting comments criticizing the very ones who were in the path of danger, they need our compassion too—at least they are bothered by what happened.

I’m going to be alright because our church will continue to gather, sing, pray, read, and respond.

I’m going to be alright because one day we are going to beat our swords into plowshares, and our spears into pruning hooks, we will not lift up sword against one another, neither shall we learn of war any more.

I’m going to be alright because one day soon, we will live in freedom together, in the garden of the Lord.

Pastor Daniel

The picture above is of my son, Max, playing in front of a piece of the Berlin Wall that is on display at the University of Virginia. It is located just a few hundred yards from where the 300 white supremacist torch bearers were chanting, “We will not be replaced,” on Friday night. The fact that this wall is used as a museum piece, and the fact that my two year old was laughing, dancing, and playing tag with his dad in front of it, should remind supremacists and haters from around the world, “You already have been replaced.” Love wins!

Daniel Xisto pastors the Charlottesville Seventh-day Adventist Church. He is also co-president of IMPACT, an interfaith movement whose mission is to empower the faith community of greater Charlottesville to create significant social change through unified direct action. This essay originally appeared on the Charlottesville Seventh-day Adventist Church’s Facebook page. It is reprinted here with permission.

Photo courtesy of Daniel Xisto.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-16 Voices.png

I hate missing meetings, and in my line of work if you do, it can end up costing you. Someone may volunteer you for something that you did not want to do. You get the worst assignments when you miss a meeting.

I feel like we as African Americans have missed the meeting—in fact, a few meetings. I felt that way on the morning of November 9, 2016. Donald Trump, against all the vast majority of polls and prognosticators’ predictions, was elected as the 45th President of the United States. One of the questions that was asked in the aftermath was how could so many people get it wrong?

The question for me was how could so many people have mislead others into thinking they were too repulsed by him to vote for him and still get in the voting booth and choose Trump. As a professed Christian, I was ashamed that 80% of White evangelicals voted for No. 45. Quite honestly, I felt betrayed. I felt like I had missed a meeting, one I was not invited to, one that other ethnic groups were not invited to, but one that affected us.

This overwhelming show of support for a man whose values are the complete opposite of the Christian ethic seemed coordinated. As a former regular listener to Christian Contemporary radio, I did not hear the call to galvanize support behind Trump. In fact, they were silent on it. I missed the push to get the Donald in office. But I wonder if there was a planned push and we just did not hear about it. (By the way, the lack of outcry on said Christian radio after his election convinced me to stop listening to that station.)

On Saturday, thousands of White supremacists (What is a nationalist? . . . Call it what it is.), descended on Charlottesville, Virginia, to defend their race against power being taken away. In their misguided universe, somehow they are being robbed of their birthright when people call for equality. The vile rhetoric, hateful speech, and racially charged symbols were prevalent all throughout the crowd.

But the crowd was not predominantly from Charlottesville. They were from all over, far and wide. Makes you wonder who is planning all this and when and where was the meeting? Feels like people like me are missing the meeting again.

We are not invited to the meeting where younger generations, who are supposedly enlightened and boast about their acceptance of all, are recruited to join this throwback hate group. We are not invited to the meeting where our fellow Christian leaders who can be vocal about defending the rights of the unborn, have a coordinated silence when it comes to defending the rights of people of color. We are not invited to the meetings that coordinate when to move out of certain neighborhoods and when to re-emerge into others. 

Maybe there are just some tables that we will not get invited to. Maybe we can sit around the ones where our support and our funds are needed. Maybe we are not big enough or worthy enough to get invited to the table of equality. I sure do hate missing these meetings. Maybe one day we will get invited.

Kymone Hinds and his family live in Memphis, TN.  He pastors two churches: Overton Park SDA and Journey Fellowship. His first book, This is chURch, is available now on Amazon or on his website. You can connect with Kymone via twitter (@kymonehinds) or on his website at kymonehinds.com.

Image Credit: Pexels.com

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

unity-bsk.jpg

So, we have a situation.

In essence, the GC says, “Ordaining women is against policy. You must stop and conform.” The unions say, “By Church policy, ordination decisions are within our purview, and our constituents think ordaining women is the right thing to do as we pursue mission where we live.”

This is complicated stuff involving multiple factors. Policy. Church governance. Church legal structure. Authority. Power. Control. Maybe even personal feelings.

Each of these factors warrants full exploration, but this article focuses on one factor: Unity. Why? Because the current discussion has been framed by the GC as a call for unity. The implication of the GC’s posture is that we cannot be in unity unless we comply with policies uniformly across the world, regardless of culture or mission needs.

Please note that the current struggle is not about doctrine, belief, or theology. The GC is not taking the position that the ordination of women is in violation of our doctrines, at least not openly. It is implied that the problem is lack of adherence to a policy.

My problem with universal uniformity and compliance is that even if achieved, the result is not necessarily unity. As a matter of fact, the quest for uniformity and compliance may be counter to unity. That has been true so far, and I predict it will continue to be true.

So what is this thing called “unity?” When are Christians truly in unity?

Permit me to tell a couple of personal stories.

I was in Romania on a mission trip with college and academy students. My responsibility was to make sure things ran well. On Friday afternoon, our leader, Bill, a university theology professor, said, “Oh, by the way, Ed, I need you to speak tomorrow for church.” Huh? I am not a preacher. My wife assures me I am definitely not a preacher! But a strange thing happened. Before Bill was through speaking, I knew what I would say the next day. It is the clearest experience in my life when I thought the Holy Spirit was speaking.

We were in Romania to build a new church building. There was already a nice, large church in town with a congregation of Romanians, Hungarians, and Gypsies. The troubled history between their nations is not conducive to good relationships between Hungarians and Romanians. And Gypsies are often not well accepted anywhere. So, three people groups with multiple troubled histories, all in one church. We were there to help the Hungarians build a new church so they could move out.

My few minutes of speaking the next day went something like this: Jesus said in John 13:35 that his people would be known because they loved each other. Why did Jesus pick that particular criterion? Because He knew the gospel would attract many different kinds of people into his infant church. Jews and Samaritans. Tax collectors and small businessmen. Blatantly ambitious people. Gentiles, Romans, Greeks, Asians, Ethiopians, Egyptians. There was bad history between the Jews and just about all those people. And yet Jesus said, “People will know you are my disciples because you love one another.”

I continued. If this hodgepodge of new Christians from all over the Mediterranean Basin could love each other in spite of their differences, their varying cultures, their troubled histories, it would say something remarkable about the power of the gospel! They would be a deviation from the norm. That would be real unity! Jesus was telling us that the power of love would be most obvious precisely when we have differences. His love holds us together, even in the face of differences of opinion or ancient hatreds . . . or different policies. So if it were obvious to their community that Hungarians, Romanians, and Gypsy Christians loved each other, it would be a powerful witness for Jesus.

I sat down. Somebody said something in either Hungarian or Romanian, and three people prayed. I did not understand what was going on. I noticed that the last man cried his way through his prayer. I learned later that a Romanian, a Hungarian, and a Gypsy were asked to pray. It was the Gypsy who openly wept during his prayer. It was the first time a Gypsy had ever been asked, or probably permitted, to speak in that church. A little unity had occurred.

Let me tell you another personal story.

I was sitting at a large table in a conference room at the old General Conference building in Takoma Park, Maryland. The meeting was not holding my attention. It was probably about some subject like insurance or retirement. I was an outsider, an executive with Adventist Health System/United States.

An object on the side of the conference table caught my attention. I checked it out. It was the handle of a drawer. I looked inside. There was a book, the General Conference Working Policy. I looked in front of my neighbor. Another handle to another drawer. After the meeting, I checked. Every chair at the table had a drawer in front of it and every drawer contained a Working Policy book. There must have been twenty chairs at the table. Twenty Working Policy books.

I could just envision an internal GC meeting in that conference room. Some subject arises. Twenty people pop open their drawers and whip out their Working Policy books, ready for action, ready to appeal to the authority of last resort—the Working Policy. My next thought? I could not work here! The ubiquity of those books added to my already growing sense that flexibility, creativity, and strategic thinking might not be valued in those premises as much as conformity. I thought the very presence of a Working Policy book for every attendee at a meeting spoke volumes about the GC’s work, its organizational culture, and its value system.

I do not know if they took that unusual conference table with them when they moved to the new GC building in Silver Spring. But why not? It was the perfect piece of GC furniture!

Obviously, I think each story describes different values.

The first story describes a state of mind that is very personal and is influenced by the Holy Spirit to bring about unity among people. It is about portraying the love of Jesus in the face of human differences. It is about the impact of Christian love on humans. 

The second story describes an organization where policy adherence is the big deal.

At the GC, Working Policy seems nearly paramount to truth and doctrine. The “Unity” document seems to make no distinction between policy and theology. It refers repeatedly to “biblical principles as expressed in the Fundamental Beliefs or voted actions and policies.” I doubt most people see policy as expressing biblical principles in most cases. Most people put policy in a different category of human endeavor and importance.  

The GC may value policy adherence more than almost anything because that is its only control mechanism. The GC has no real power or organizational control otherwise. The Church was intentionally set up that way in 1901 to avoid GC overreach.

I think the parties come to the table valuing different things. The GC says to the Pacific Union and the Columbia Union, “Get in line.” The unions say, “Our people have voted by large majorities what they think is in the best interest of our mission in the territories where we live.”

It does not seem likely to me that the union conferences are going to change. For one thing, these were not decisions of union officers or committees. They were decisions by constituencies, members of the Church. Those members carry convictions and are not likely to reverse course. And the GC is showing no signs of accommodation.

How do we get out of this impasse? Is a disruption inevitable? Perhaps the way forward means that we should look at a new flexibility in which different parts of the world have certain latitude in their approach to mission. In my mind, mission effectiveness wins over policy every time, assuming adherence to core beliefs and general good judgment. Different approaches to mission need to vary with culture and circumstances. It is quite clear our 376,000 brothers and sisters in the Pacific and Columbia Unions have a clear view of how mission will work best in their midst. Who am I, or anyone, to say “no” and try to force them into changing their view?

Let me be clear. I think tactics designed to force volunteer members of a religious organization into adherence to a non-theological policy is just nuts. And always remember, Headship Theology is not part of our belief system.

In the end, this whole thing is about members, not leaders. There may be 30 or so people (men) dealing with this matter, but they should not be so shortsighted as to think this is about them. It is about us, the members in the pews. We will ultimately react to these matters.

An appropriate measure of flexibility is the way forward. I can feel perfectly in unity in Christ with my brothers and sisters in South America and Africa if they do not ordain women while other parts of the world do ordain women. Actually, I can feel in unity with my brothers and sisters in South America and Africa in spite of our differences. But when there is pressure for compulsory compliance with a disputed policy of the Church where there is no doctrinal issue, then unity begins to fray.

Unity is a state of mind toward each other, compelled by the love of Jesus. It is not uniformity. It is not organizational marching in lockstep.

Edward Reifsnyder is a healthcare consultant. He and his wife Janelle live in Fort Collins, Colorado. This article is an adaptation of one that originally appeared in the Rocky Mountain Conference’s quarterly magazine, Mountain Views, Spring 2017 issue. It is reprinted here with permission. 

Image Credit: FreeImages.com / B S K

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-18 Voices - Johnsson Book.png

“What is a ‘hermeneutical community’?”

“Who constitutes the ‘Invisible Remnant’?”

Those who were at the Roy Branson Legacy Sabbath School (RBLSS) on August 5 were so intrigued by Jerald Whitehouse’s presentation of these ideas that they rescheduled him to return on September 16.

Whitehead was commenting on Chapter Seven in Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio by William G. Johnsson who is now retired after many years of service as the Editor of the Adventist Review. Before that he served at Spicer Adventist University in India and at Andrews University in the United States. The title of this chapter is “Mission: Beyond Counting Heads.”

Whitehouse has lived among Muslims for more than 30 years. He began as a chaplain and health educator at Benghazi Adventist Hospital in Libya. A theology graduate of Walla Walla University who earned a doctorate in Public Health at Loma Linda University, he subsequently served in Lebanon, Sudan, and Bangladesh. He was the Director of the General Conference Global Center for Adventist Muslim Relations for fourteen years. For a year just before he retired, he was a Special Consultant for Muslim Relations for the General Conference. In other words, he is worth listening to!

Many wondered what all he had in mind when he described the task of a “hermeneutical community” to be “to work towards a biblically faithful, culturally relevant, and truly global process of theologizing that overcomes the hegemony of Western dominance and transcends the parochialism of local theologies.” Each of these key words—faithful, relevant, global, hegemony and parochialism—deserves at least one session for itself!

Eager questions lingered about his distinction between the “visible and invisible remnant” as well. The more I looked upon one of his images, which is on the video, the more I wondered if the “visible remnant” is necessarily Christian.

The overwhelming majority of SDAs hold that those who belong to the “invisible church” are not necessarily Christian; however, “visible <> remnant” is two conceptual steps away from “invisible <> church.” My question is an indirect way of probing the proper relationships among Christianity, Adventism, and other world religions.

Christians typically relate to the members of other religious movements in one or the other of two primary waves. The apologetic approach reasons from generally accepted claims to specifically Christian convictions with alertness to differing cultural sensitivities. We see this in Paul’s work in Athens. The kerygmatic approach proclaims the gospel by beginning with specifically Christian convictions and moving from there to more general ones in a way that includes a primary concern for its own theological integrity. We see this in Paul’s work at Corinth. Although the church needs both for differing circumstances, their respective advocates are often at odds with each other.

Whitehouse describes his interactions with leaders in other religions “as essential and productive as we seek to be an influence in the present global arena for peaceful coexistence among faith systems, respectful interaction to reinforce universal values shared by all, involvement in co-operative initiatives around shared values, and finally to learn from each other as we seek to grow in our faith journey.”

Is this apologetic or kerygmatic? You are right! Enjoy the video!

We thank Adventist Forum and Spectrum for this opportunity to share our sessions.

For more information, please visit bransonlegacysabbathschool.com.

WATCH: Jerald Whitehouse on Chapter 7 in "Where Are We Headed" by William G. Johnsson

See also:
William G. Johnsson Explains Why He Wrote Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio,
The Professors Valentine Expand Upon Chapter 1 in "Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio",
Laura Alipoon Highlights Adventist Diversity in Chapter 2 of “Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio”,
Calvin Thomsen’s Discussion of Chapter 3 in “Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio” Assails Neo-Calvinism,
Carla Gober-Park Expands “the Main Thing” in Chapter 4 of “Where Are We Headed?” by William G. Johnsson,
Leo Ranzolin’s Response to Chapter 5 in “Where Are We Headed?” Poses Three Questions and Cites One Poet, and
Genesis and Geology in Paradox: Ben Clausen’s Response to Chapter 6 in “Where Are We Headed” by William G. Johnsson

Dr. David Larson is Professor of Religion at Loma Linda University.

Image Credit: Video Still

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-18-solareclipse.jpg

On Aug 21, 2017, a total solar eclipse will envelop most of the United States and parts of Canada and Mexico in partial darkness, while a narrow, 70-mile strip from Oregon to South Carolina will experience “totality” for approximately 2.5 minutes.

An eclipse similar to this magnitude last visited the U.S. in 1918; without commuting to the affected areas, one will darken your door every 380 years.

As is typical at the time of these events, the engines of popular eschatology have been overheating for months. Ominous YouTube videos have been propagated widely, and on the heels of the eclipse, a newly minted “prophecy” considers the alignment of certain constellations on September 23, 2017 as a forming of the “woman clothed in the sun” of Revelation 12.

The site Unsealed announces that the eclipse will mark the beginning of seven years of tribulation, ending with the next American total solar eclipse of 2024. Prophecy News Watch warns that the eclipse falls exactly 40 days before this year’s Yom Kippur, and that may have eschatological implications.

Adventists are easily caught up in such sensationalist interpretations. In a misleading Facebook post titled “Signs in the Heavens” shared hundreds of times, Doug Batchelor mentions the total solar eclipse of August 21, 2017 and quotes the eschatological “signs in the sun, moon and stars” (Luke 21:25) but then says he does not really believe solar eclipses are fulfilment of prophecy!

It goes without saying that eclipses are universally tinged with religious superstitions. Brian Brewer’s book Eclipse explores the premonitory, “total awe” effect of total solar eclipses and other phenomena throughout history: the five-year war between the Lydians and Medes which had no victors but the sun; the fighting was halted permanently by the total solar eclipse of May 28, 585 BCE; the lunar eclipse of February 29, 1504 convinced the natives of Jamaica that Columbus had divine powers.

The same sentiment accompanies earthquakes and tsunamis. In a case that hits close to home for me, the massive earthquake that hit the archipelago of the Azores on the night of July 9, 1757 and took the lives of my 6^th great-grandparents on the island of São Jorge was called Mandado de Deus, “God’s Emissary,” by the islanders.

The publication in 1887 of Oppolzer’s Canon of the Eclipses which lists all eclipses from 1207 BCE to 2161 CE at once rationalized the occurrence of eclipses while also feeding speculation that some Old Testament prophecies predicting signs in the sun and moon may have actually referred to eclipses. The total solar eclipse of June 15, 763 BCE may have coincided with the one predicted in Amos 8:9; Peter quotes Joel 2:31 (cf. Acts 2:20) possibly referring to the lunar eclipse of Friday April 3, 33 CE, the most likely date of Jesus’ crucifixion.

Oppolzer’s work, however, shows that it is unlikely that eclipses have prophetic significance. Their regular, predictable paths would cheapen prophecy and inure the watchers. It seems there is a deeper meaning in the cosmic signs of the OT.

The fact is that during eclipses and other natural terrors, Christians have for millennia recalled the words of Jesus on the Mount of Olives:

Immediately after the suffering of those days

the sun will be darkened,

and the moon will not give its light;

the stars will fall from heaven,

and the powers of heaven will be shaken.

(Matt 24:29; cf. Mark 13:24-27; Luke 21:25-28)

Millerite millennialism, rising out of the historicist school of interpretation that dominated the late Middle Ages, foraged the literature for reports of unusual natural events and published these in the Signs of the Times and The Midnight Cry (1840-1843) as fulfilment of end-time prophecy.[1] Our Adventist forefathers, eager to find eschatological footing after the disappointment of 1844, maintained and refined the Millerite interpretations of these events.

Once established as the “official” Adventist interpretation, it received Ellen White’s imprimatur.  Reading the still fresh natural 18^th-19^th century disturbances as the fulfilment of the opening of the sixth seal in Revelation 6:12-13, she writes in The Great Controversy, p. 304:

In fulfillment of this prophecy there occurred, in the year 1755, the most terrible earthquake that has ever been recorded.

About the dark day of May 19, 1780, she writes: “Since the time of Moses no period of darkness of equal density, extent, and duration, has ever been recorded” (p. 308); and the meteor showers of Nov 13, 1833 were “the last of the signs” (p. 333). She then exhorts: “Christ had bidden His people watch for the signs of His advent and rejoice as they should behold the tokens of their coming King.”

Adventist interest in these signs took a cosmic leap when Ellen White bestowed future prophetic significance to the constellation of Orion: “Dark, heavy clouds came up and clashed against each other; the atmosphere parted and rolled back, then we could see the open space in Orion from whence came the voice of God. I saw that the Holy City will come down through that open space” (Letter 2, 1848).

This statement bred a generation of Adventist astronomy enthusiasts, giving rise to the Adventist legend that the three stars in Orion’s belt were actually separating to make room for Jesus. I remember the first time I heard this. I was 12 and already in my second canvassing campaign. During an all-nighter prayer vigil, someone shared how he believed that Jesus was coming soon because Orion was opening to allow him to pass through on his way to earth. With the chilly winter wind blowing on our faces, we looked up to a clear night sky and saw the “separating” Three Marys and hoped for the soon end of all things.

Such appetite for cosmology influenced more than just dilettante star-gazers; it has forged its own sort of Adventist “astrology” often dominated by the “lunatic fringe” who see the fulfilment of prophecy in any natural disturbance, often for the benefit of their fundraising efforts.

The question still remains: Were these 18-19^th century events really “signs of the advent” as predicted by Jesus on the Mount of Olives?

Traditionally, Adventists have seen this sermon as having a “double fulfilment”: at the destruction of Jerusalem and at the End. In support of a fulfilment of the Olivet Discourse in the first century are three important factors: (1) the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD in vv. 20-24 (the “abomination of desolation” is replaced by “surrounded with [Roman] armies” in Luke 21:20); (2) the allusion to the coming of the Son of Man to the Ancient of Days in Daniel 7:13-14 which does not automatically point to Jesus’ Second Coming but may be a prophecy of his enthronement in heaven at the ascension and the establishment of the church (cf. the use of the gathering of the “elect” in v. 31) and; (3) the fulfilment of all these signs in “this generation”, i.e., the original hearers (vv. 33, 34).[2]

Evangelical scholars have negotiated these difficulties by explaining that the actual Second Coming stands in the same “eschatological horizon” of the events connected with the fall of Jerusalem predicted in the Discourse, although today we see that horizon “further removed”[3] into the future.

As to the actual nature of the “signs in the sun and moon and stars,” it is important to note that Matthew 24:29 draws on symbolic imagery from Old Testament sources. The shaking of the natural order is a recurring theme in the OT; its oracles capitalized on ancient understanding of cosmic events as symbols of the subversion of the natural order and applied them to “the day of the Lord” (cf. Joel 2:31; Amos 8:9).

More specifically Matthew 24:29 alludes to the oracle against Babylon in Isa 13:10 and 34:4 (cf. also Joel 2:10) when it predicts that “the sun will be dark at its rising, and the moon will not shed its light.” At first brush, it may seem that these are literal signs, but the context indicates that this imagery is actually symbolic: along with the description of the darkening of the heavenly bodies, the oracle describes hearts “melting” (v. 7), the sky “trembling,” and the earth being moved from its place (v. 13); the wicked are compared to “gazelles” (v. 14) and phantasms of “goat-demons” (v. 21) inhabit Babylon’s ruins.

Similar symbolism is used against Edom in Isaiah 34:4: “All the host of heaven shall rot away, and the skies roll up like a scroll. All their host shall wither like a leaf withering on a vine, or fruit withering on a fig tree.” In its ruins “goat-demons” find shelter alongside the mythological-demonic Lilith (v. 14). In a “lamentation” against the Egyptians, Ezekiel also uses symbolic imagery: they are caught by a “net” (v. 3), their bodies fill entire valleys (v. 5), their blood reaches up to the mountains (v. 6), the sun, moon and stars are darkened (v. 7), and God is depicted as a warrior using a “sword” (v. 10).

The darkening of the sun, moon, and stars as symbols of judgment in the OT is significant because Egypt and Babylon were known for not only worshipping these but also for being at the forefront of ancient astronomical and calendrical measurements. The disruptions in the sun, moon and stars, whose predictable movement they had mastered, represented the ultimate judgment: only a superior God could be responsible for it. These signs symbolized the end of what brought security to those nations at the arrival of the “day of the Lord.” “Can your “gods” do this?” asked the OT prophets.

In his eschatological sermon Jesus uses the same symbolic imagery of the OT to describe the judgment inflicted upon the wicked world at the eschatological end: the “signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars” indicate that the natural order has come to an end with the appearance of the Son of Man “with power and great glory” (v. 30).

In addition, the symbolic cosmic events which herald the end in Matthew 24:29-30 are part of a contiguous sequence of events. Regardless of their precise nature, Jesus indicates that they affect the same group of people: they all go through the “tribulation,” they “faint,” and they witness the end of the world when Jesus appears. They are all part of an eschatological “package.”

John of Patmos echoes this imagery in his description of the opening of the sixth seal: 

When he opened the sixth seal, I looked and there came a great earthquake; the sun became black as sackcloth, the full moon became like blood and the stars of the sky fell to earth… The sky vanished… and every mountain and island was removed from its place” (Revelation 6:12-14: cf. 16:20).

The same pattern applies here: as in the OT, oracles against heathen nations, the cosmic signs of the sixth seal affect “the kings of the earth and the magnates and the generals and the rich and the powerful, and everyone, slave and free” (v. 15) on the day of the “wrath of the Lamb (v. 17).

It appears then that this amalgam of eschatological OT symbols is not meant to be taken literally; they do not describe the actual darkening of the sun or the reddening of the moon. These are not literal events any more than the islands of the entire world are not moved from their place and mountains are not flattened literally by the earthquake.

Like the OT lawsuits against heathen nations, the cosmic disturbances described in the Gospels and Revelation point to theological rather than geological or astronomical realities: the eschatological day of the Lord represents the end of the natural securities attached to the cycle of day and night and the end of the present order, regardless of whether the sun or moon will still shine or remain in orbital relationship with the earth after the “day of the Lord.”

Moreover, a cursory review of the science of the cosmos tends to falsify our faith in such facile explications.

It is not possible for the sun and moon to be moved literally “out of their places” without the utter annihilation of all mankind and the destruction of the planet itself. As significant as they may have appeared in their own time, the dark day of 1780 which affected only New England in the U.S., the Lisbon earthquake of 1755, and the fall of meteors of 1833 were not supernaturally/divinely caused. The dark day was caused by a combination of smoke from a large fire, fog, and a thick cloud cover; the earthquake was the result of reoccurring plate tectonics, the Leonid meteor showers of November 13, 1833 reoccur every 33 years. Moreover, it is obvious that none of these centuries-old events are connected with the arrival of the End: we are still here!

As to the Adventist lore about Orion, the basics of astronomy deny it a place in the line-up of end-time events. Its nebula alone could fit 60 million solar systems; its light travels 1,500 years to reach earth. In order to be visible anywhere within Orion, Jesus’s entourage would have to be large enough to be noticed from this inconceivable distance and yet, it would have to remain within the speed of light in order to be actually seen there. But this creates a conundrum: at that speed, it would take Jesus 1,500 years to reach us! Not to mention the rather unimaginative notion of Jesus and the angels actually traveling through time/space.

The problems of the traditions surrounding Orion point to another “revelatory” source. In relating her visions of the end-time, Ellen White was likely influenced by Captain Joseph Bates who had been peering at Orion with a rudimentary telescope. He saw a “gap” into a brighter area in the Orion nebula which he concluded was heaven.[4] When describing the same scene later, she replaced Orion with “a clear place of settled glory” from which God’s voice was heard (cf. Spiritual Gifts 1, 205; 1858).

Finally, despite the symbolic and theological implications of the cosmic signs in the New Testament, it is to be expected that a cataclysm such as the Second Coming of Christ will be accompanied by a disruption of the natural order. But if these are “signs of coming,”[5] they will take place so close to the actual event as to be obfuscated by it. By that time, it will be too late to change sides as a result of these “signs.”

Adventist theologians such as LaRondelle and George Knight have been warning against the misuse of “cosmic signs” for decades. Jon Paulien calls for a “sane approach” to the interpretation of these events.[6] The intricacies of prophetic interpretation are far more complex than our enthusiastic evangelists make it sound. It is time we cease from creating false hopes based on erroneous readings of events from the ancient past or contemporary natural phenomena unrelated to "The End."

On August 21, my family and I will be in Charleston, South Carolina, to celebrate how “the heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1).

Notes & References:
[1] See Mark Barkun, Crucible of the Millennium: The Burned-Over District of New York in the 1840s (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1986), 55-60 for a helpful discussion of Millerite views on these events.
[2] Surprisingly, Josephus and Roman historians describe apparitions in the sky before the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD (Wars 6:296-300).
[3] “As we have seen at various points throughout this section, there is a heightening that has to do, not with descriptive accuracy, but with an eschatological horizon in relation to which the events are being understood. Much as had been the case with the Daniel prophecies, the arrival of the ‘desolating sacrilege’ has proved not to have the degree of immediate connection with the final phase of the end-time events that was anticipated, so it is perhaps not surprising that it had about it less of the grandness appropriate to eschatological events. The eschatological horizon has proved to be further removed.” (John Nolland, The Gospel of Matthew: A Commentary on the Greek Text, New International Greek Testament Commentary [Grand Rapids, MI; Carlisle: W. B. Eerdmans; Paternoster Press, 2005], 975–976).
[4] Bates wrote a pamphlet titled The Opening Heavens or A Connected View of the Testimony of The Prophets and Apostles, Concerning The Opening Heavens, Compared with Astronomical Observations, and of The Present and Future Location of The New Jerusalem, The Paradise of God (New Bedford, MA: Press of Benjamin Lindsey, 1846).
[5]George R. Knight, Matthew (Nampa, Idaho: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1994), 236, 237.
[6] What the Bible Says About the End of the World (Hagerstown, MD: Review and Herald Pub. Assn., 1994), 157.

André Reis has published articles and book chapters on theology, church history, worship, and music. He has recently finished a PhD in New Testament at Avondale College.

Image Credit: NASA Viz Team/ Ernie Wright

If you respond to this article, please:
Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-19 Summer Reading Group Chap1.png

This is the first post in a seven-part series for Spectrum’s 2017 Summer Reading Group. Each post will be drawn from chapters of the book Humanism and the Death of Godby Ronald E. Osborn. You can view the reading/posting schedule here.

I have not recovered from my incredulity at the female ethics professor, Harvard-trained, who refused to allow that the shooting of Malala Yousafzai in the head because of her efforts to promote literacy among girls was, as a matter of fact, immoral. I assume such reprehensible renunciation of moral discernment, ominously common at this cultural moment in the West, is the provocation for Ron Osborn’s recent book.

My otherwise decent disputant did indeed reject my assertion regarding Malala, in part, because she held that the concept of human rights was a cultural construct that can authorize no valid normative claims. Other ethicists, even if they have an antipathy toward or despair about the possibility of establishing any robust metaphysics to undergird morality, wish nevertheless to defend the reality of universal human rights. Can this be done?

Osborn articulates the issue this way. “Can we have a rationally coherent, morally compelling, and historically sustainable discourse as well as practice of humanistic values and human rights without a ‘thick’ metaphysical or religious framework such as the one provided in the Western tradition for some two millennia by Judeo-Christian sources?” And more concretely he asks, “Will we still be good to the stranger in our midst, or good in the same ways, once we have truly and utterly abandoned the idea that every person is made, in the enigmatic language of Scripture, in ‘the image of God’?” (4, emphasis his).

His answer to these questions is “no.” “In order for humanistic values to have deep coherence and motivating power, they must find their moorings in essentially religious ways of thinking” (5). The rights at issue, he says, “can only be sustained . . . both theoretically and practically within a vision of personhood such as the one found in a historically unprecedented way in Christian theological anthropology” (ibid., emphasis his). What are these rights? They are the human dignity and intrinsic human equality that attaches to each individual merely because they are human. Moreover, these rights are inalienable.

Partly because of its eloquence and partly because of the central significance to his project that it has, I quote at length his statement of the Christian theological anthropology he wishes to promote.

God incarnate—the humanly visible face of the Ultimate Reality of the universe—is a poor manual laborer from a defeated backwater of the Empire who was tortured to death by the political and religious authorities of his day on charges of sedition and heresy. What is more, the Gospel writers assert, this ‘weak’ God remains present among us in the lives of the wretched of the earth. Christ summons all who would share in his resurrection to embrace a path of selfless service and voluntary suffering for the sake of the most marginalized members of society, imitatio Christi, since how one treats ‘the least of these’ is how one treats God himself. There is thus no pathway to the divine except through a risky venture of faith, hope, and love marked by costly service to the God made visible in the lives of our fellow human beings, and in table fellowship or communion that breaks down barriers of class, education, nationality, race and gender. In the words of the Apostle Paul in the book of Galatians “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (6).

Having articulated his aim, Osborn offers some careful and instructive definitions of the key terms he has used and will use in developing his proposal for a religious apprehension of the good that can coherently conceive of human rights, as well as motivate respect for and defense of them. These definitions serve to differentiate his proposal from both anti-humanists and anti-religious humanists whose positions he wishes to expose as inadequate. They make clear the central contentions to come in upcoming chapters.

"Naturalism" is often used to name a view that holds that natural science is the only way to know anything because all reality, mental phenomena included, goes back to physical events. Some naturalists might argue for non-reductive ways to speak of some phenomena but any “emergent” entities will have a purely physical basis.

"Nihilism," the belief that there are no non-arbitrary normative values or goods nor any non-arbitrary restraint on sheer egoism of either indifference or rejection of any distinction between good and evil, is implied by naturalism. That is not to say that, generally speaking, individuals holding to naturalism willingly endorse nihilistic conclusions. The flattening of all of reality into “objective” facts open to instrumental or intellectual control or mastery is a kind of nihilism prevalent in the academy. In general, nihilism of whatever variety is typified by ignoring the mystery of being.

Religion involves talk of a “greater mystery” than scientific method can comprehend. A definitive religious intuition is that our deepest sense of right and wrong, good and evil, beauty, and love “corresponds with the grain of the universe” (11, emphasis his). As Noam Chomsky has observed, appeals to justice and humanistic values are based on “structures of hope and conviction.” If these structures “must be there for our ideas about goodness, value, and justice to make any sense,” then it is religion that informs them (ibid., emphasis his).

Concerning "God" Osborn writes, “When I refer to God . . . I have in mind the personal Creator God of the biblical narratives who is also the One glimpsed in partial and imperfect ways in diverse philosophical and religious traditions as the utterly transcendent and, at the same time, fully immanent ‘ground’ or ‘ocean of being’” (12).

It is somewhat puzzling that Osborn’s definition of goodness starts with a denial that there might be a problem in the relationship between God and goodness. He supports that denial with reference to the classic Christian contention that God just is goodness. What is puzzling about this is that if goodness as such (that is goodness in itself) is conceivable, it should be possible to conceive the good in non-religious terms, in purely ethical ones if you please. And the exclusive humanist would be just the sort of person to attempt that. If, however, one cannot conceive goodness except in theological terms, then it would seem some account must be offered as to God’s relationship to goodness. Put differently, if God just is goodness itself, what additional significance attaches to thinking of goodness as divine? Why not simply speak of goodness and be done with it? In other words, why not have a non-religious metaphysics of the good?

And it is at just this point in Osborn’s setting forth the parameters of his proposal that I would want to note that a successful response to the rejections of metaphysical or religious accounts of the good advanced by Darwin, Marx, and Nietzsche will be incomplete until it addresses Kant’s critique of Christian theism precisely in its efforts to affirm transcendence that is “fully immanent.” If, as Kant contended, the metaphysics of being of the tradition is logically incoherent, then one will have trouble claiming greater coherence for a Christian religious understanding of the good as against an exclusively humanistic one without addressing the logical problems of affirming immanent transcendence. Osborn’s mention of an analogy of being points to the direction he may take in addressing these issues. (It is not clear to me, at this point, that Osborn will be doing this, at some point, in this book.)

In his elucidation of the term "humanism," Osborn refers to a classification of positions suggested by Charles Taylor according to which there are “exclusive humanists” who are optimistic naturalists, “Neo-Nietzschean anti-humanists,” and “acknowledgers of transcendence.” Osborn is an acknowledger of transcendence. Against the exclusive humanists, he would side with the anti-humanists in denying a naturalistic basis of the human good. Against the Neo-Nietzschean anti-humanists, he sides with the exclusive humanists in defending non-arbitrary goodness.

Although Osborn takes pains to defend real goodness, he does not, he says, aspire to portray a “view from nowhere.” Nevertheless, a merely parochial view, the arbitrary view of a single individual, or of a religious tradition, for example, is no more acceptable to him than some putative view from nowhere. Instead, it would seem that he, like all those who wish to attend to the mystery of being, aspires to portray the view from everywhere.

This monograph is a very welcome essay in defense of the intuition that wherever we are, precisely the view from everywhere, requires that we condemn the attempted murder of Malala Yousafzai and that we defend and celebrate the right of girls to learn to read just because the good has the face of a poor Palestinian Jew who is present to us in them.

Daryll Ward attended Andrews University, Tübingen University, and the University of Chicago (where he earned his PhD) and spent many years working in the field of addiction treatment, business ethics, and pastoring. He currently serves as Professor of Theology and Ethics at Kettering College.

Image Credit: Oxford University Press.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-21 Voices.png

Probably the most popular driver in NASCAR history is Dale Earnhardt. He traded paint with other cars in an effort to get to the front and was known for disrupting what might otherwise be a predictable outcome. Earnhardt sometimes used a time-honored technique of "bump and run” to catapult his car to the checkered flag. His fans could not get enough of his unconventional style and sheer determination to win. On the backstretch of what would be his last race, he lost control and hit the wall. His death at the Daytona racetrack still occupies a large space in the folklore of NASCAR. In some way, perhaps, fans vicariously felt the adrenaline of winning at all costs—winning at the expense of everyone else. For that is, after all, the very essence of NASCAR.

Some of these NASCAR driver behaviors can be observed in our day-to-day lives. We hustle to our jobs, racing for the checkered flag. We are quick to assert ourselves, sometimes at the expense of others. The Bible talks about the Christian journey as a race to be won. We also learn from Scripture that there are myriad obstacles along the way. Satan stalks his prey like a roaring lion, trying every tactic to destroy us. Many of us see life as a race filled with adversaries and disrupters. To arrive at the finish line unscathed takes some cunning and strategy.

Some Christians seem to embrace a "win at any cost" mentality, sometimes acting as though we are in the last stretch and the finish line will only accept one winner. Because Christians generally accept the premise that God expects us to help one another, such a competitive spirit seems strange. In Scripture we find directives to help the poor, the widows, and the orphans. Jesus showed compassion to those who were considered outcasts or people on the fringes of society. However, something different is happening for NASCAR Christians who have adopted the “win at any cost” idea, even in political spheres.

It strikes me as odd that Christians would even have much of a political agenda. Why would churches, founded on the legacy of Jesus, have such a keen interest in how government works? What compels some Christians to be so vocal and adamant about their beliefs to the exclusion of other ideologies? For some understanding of this phenomenon, consider the mindset of Dominionism and Christian Reconstructionism among some modern Right-wing Christians.

Dominionism has many variations, but simply stated, it is the belief that Christians can and must have political, social, and religious dominance in the world. Some Dominionists believe that this process could take hundreds or thousands of years to achieve, while others believe it must take place in the here and now through decisive political action. Both streams of thought envision a world where Christians rule over the earth in a truly biblically-based theocracy. Reconstructionism is a variation on the theme but takes Dominionism to an extreme level. Based on the writings of R.J. Rushdoony (1916-2001), Reconstructionists believe that someday Christians will set up a theocracy that will reinstate all the laws found in the biblical Old Testament.

Frederick Clarkson quotes Christian Reconstructionist Gary North in an article written in 2016. "We must use the doctrine of religious liberty,” North declared in 1982, “to gain independence for Christian schools until we train up a generation of people who know that there is no religious neutrality, no neutral law, no neutral education, and no neutral civil government. Then they will get busy in constructing a Bible-based social, political and religious order which finally denies the religious liberty of the enemies of God."

One stream of thought under Dominionism asserts that God is waiting for America to come under complete Christian rule before He is willing to set up His earthly kingdom. Citing certain Bible verses (2 Chronicles 7:14, for example), some believers proclaim that God is withholding His approval and His blessings because America has fallen into apostasy. (Ibid)

These Dominionist ideas are not new to the Christian movement. Along with flamboyant displays of patriotism, evangelical Christians have a long history of decrying the sad condition to which America has fallen. Draped and securely shielded by the American flag, Christianity has adopted the idea that our nation needs to returnto greatness. That is to say that this nation needs to return to God. The slogan utilized by Donald Trump, "Make America Great Again," and the Christian call to “Make America Godly Again” are two slogans that can easily meld together into one goal.

It is impossible to know the full meaning of our President's call to "Make America Great Again," but we do have some very good ideas with regard to what more radical Christians might mean by returning this country to God or returning this country to greatness.

According to some, America was great when the LBGTQ community was safely hidden away. America was great when no one would ever dream of gay marriage. America was much better off when abortion was illegal and doctors who performed such procedures could be jailed for doing so. America was great when prayers were offered in public schools and creation was taught along with regular science classes. All of us were better off when Sunday was a religious day: a day for church, not for shopping. America was a better place because people had no choice but to dutifully follow the prerogatives of the Christian religion.

So what happened to America? Is it true that the moral fabric of this great country has been destroyed? The answer to that question, simply stated, is that citizens from every walk of life decided that America belonged to everyone, regardless of religious affiliations. Non-believers filed lawsuits in an effort to have a voice. The courts slowly recognized that people who hold beliefs and practices outside of Christianity had the right to exist and flourish. Christians still remained in the majority and had the votes to write any laws they wanted, but the United States Constitution clearly mandates that our government will not establish a state religion. This important doctrine protects people who find themselves in the minority. Non-Christian citizens still have the same rights and privileges under our constitution as those in the majority. The decisions from the courts brought rapid and widespread changes. Christians were jolted into a new reality. Non-believers were here to stay. Misguided Christians reacted decisively and adopted the idea that people who live and believe differently are enemies of America.

Roy Moore, the so-called "Ten Commandment Judge," spoke at a function sponsored by a group known as Operation Save America. He assured the group that they need not be too worried about other religions in America. He said, "I'm sorry but this country was not founded on Muhammad. It was not founded on Buddha. It was not founded on secular humanism. It was founded on God.” According to Judge Moore, now top runner in a U.S. Senate race in Alabama, there is no room for non-Christians in his America.

Seventh-day Adventists have a long history of protecting the rights of the minority against the preferences of the majority and have carved a somewhat safe space for our members in military, our church schools, and the rights of our members in the workplace. At times, our organization has sided with other minorities who are outside the mainline of American culture. The Golden Rule insists that we provide reciprocal consideration to others. This is the problem with Alt-Christianity or NASCAR Christianity. Large swaths of people have adopted the winner-take-all approach which gives little attention to how actions impact others.

"Make America Great Again" and "Make America Godly Again" are the battle cries to return our country to a time in history when conservative Christians wrote the rules and all citizens had no choice but to follow them. History teaches us that the fragile gains made by the minority against the Christian majority can quickly fade away. Religious zealots, eager to win at any cost, will gladly attach themselves to anything and anyone who promises to move their agenda forward.

When we cast votes for a particular candidate, we do not get just a slice of what we wanted. We get the whole pizza delivered to our door. Christians would be wise to remain clear-headed in deciding how closely to align with a political figure. We might think that a particular candidate is advancing the cause of God only to learn that our freedom to worship as we choose is suddenly in jeopardy. The same Christians who believe in an aggressive political agenda to get this country back to God are the very same activists who are very certain which day of the week should be observed as a Sabbath of the Lord. Muslims who prefer Friday and a few Christians who observe Saturday might very well find themselves out of the mainstream.

I join the chorus of people who are waving a warning flag in front of American Christians who have fallen into the easy trap of blaming others for all cultural problems. Modesty and a sense of proportion are missing in the political sphere. David Brooks opines, “Progress is not made by crushing some swarm of malevolent foes; it’s made by finding balance between competing truths — between freedom and security, diversity and solidarity. There’s always going to be counter-evidence and mystery. There is no final arrangement that will end conflict, just endless searching and adjustment.” Witness cannot occur in NASCAR Christianity. As citizens of Jesus’ kingdom we cannot pledge allegiance to a fallible human leader without regard to how this will affect our witness for Jesus. It is clear that some Christians actually believe "Make America Great Again" trumps everything Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount.

It is easy to compartmentalize thoughts to the point that one will miss glaring contradictions. Thus, I can sympathize with my brothers and sisters within the Seventh-day Adventist Church who strongly support certain political figures. But, please be warned. If Jesus were to attend a political rally or listen to one of our television newscasts, He no doubt would hang his head in disappointment. Yes, if Jesus were to attend our church services, He might very well hear about how much God loves all of His children, and He might hear how much God loves people from every walk of life. Yet, as Christians, we do not have permission to separate our politics from devotion to the gentle, humble Teacher from Nazareth. We cannot serve two masters. We cannot invoke the name of Jesus while at the same time espousing hate and intolerance for those who live or believe differently than we do. Jesus died so that the whole world, through His sacrifice, might be saved. When we encounter hatred, bigotry, shaming, belittling language and actions, it is our privilege as true Christians to repudiate these ideas that contradict the teachings and character of Jesus.

Christians must look closely at our NASCAR tendencies—our predispositions to compete and win at the expense of other people. Sometimes, we make compromises to make the racetrack seem a little smoother. We might even be willing to trade some paint with those around us to get ahead. Jesus demonstrated that it is possible to lead while at the same time assuming the role of a servant. One Friday afternoon, oh so long ago, our Lord stretched His hands out on a cruel cross. He died for everyone—including those who believe and act differently than we do. When we try to win at the expense of others, we absolutely defeat the very principles of heaven. It is impossible to say that we are Christians while at the same time denying the love of God for everyone. "Win at any cost" might work for NASCAR, but it does not work very well for true Christians seeking to do the will of Christ.

Leroy Sykes lives and writes from Alabama.

Image Credit: Pexels.com

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-22 Voices.png

“If you've wondered what you would've done during slavery, the Holocaust, or [the] Civil Rights movement...you're doing it now. #Charlottesville” –Aditi Juneja via Twitter.

The events last weekend in Charlottesville, Virginia have sent a wake-up call to America. While in the past, the official inclination was to call attacks on American soil “isolated incidents,” we can safely say that what we are now witnessing is a trend of disgruntled behavior centered on race and religion. On Saturday, August 13, it resulted in a crazed 20-year-old neo-Nazi ramming his Challenger into a crowd at high speed, killing a woman and injuring many others.

The scene of hundreds of neo-Nazis marching by torchlight, carrying guns, and channeling their genocidal inclination into anti-Jewish chants in protest of the removal of a statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee is the stuff of nightmares – and ghoulish history.

But the “alt-right” as they like to be called cannot be confined to some geographical location. They have apologists everywhere who join them in protesting the “historical significance” of the “Jim Crow” segregationist and Civil Rights-era statues of Confederate generals. They argue that the heroic statues of those who fought to preserve American slavery that occupy pedestals across this nation are “part of history” and that the statues are not intended to convey any kind of honor beyond remembrance of who they were.

You become who you honor, and if you put somebody “on a pedestal,” that is telling. 

The reality that we are witnessing is a demonstration of just how thin American freedom is –  many very vocal people do not believe that all people are equal and are willing to defend honorary monuments to slavery. If the Civil Rights movement were taking place right now, you can be sure that a lot of people would still be silent on the issue of segregation.

Yes, there is a right to march and to protest, but don't lose sight of the fact that the "alt-right" protesters are using their freedom of speech to call for the elimination of the freedom of others. 

Why is this relevant to religious liberty? Because religious freedom is dependent on the same legal structures that protect against racial discrimination. Before the Civil War, the Bill of Rights did not apply to the states – only the Federal government. That meant that the States could do whatever they wanted to people, including enslaving them. Our nation at its first founding, “four score and seven years” before the Civil War had this fatal flaw built in that allowed States to decide for themselves whether to enslave people. But this issue reached a fevered pitch that led to the Civil War and after the war, the Federal government required all former slave states to sign onto the 14^th Amendment with its due process and equal protection clauses that required states to apply the Bill of Rights to their citizens.

This 14^th Amendment is what keeps us free today.  The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were the first founding, the post-Civil War Amendments were the second founding, and the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s was the third founding of America. Freedom for all is relatively new and incredibly fragile. We must work to protect it.

I had a recent discussion on social media about this and received this response from a friend with a Middle Eastern background who did not want to make a public statement:

Hey Mike, I just wanted to privately say that I appreciate your recent posts and taking up the good fight on all this Alt-right nonsense. I think there are a lot of non-black and non-latino minorities out there that feel the same way, but from experience choose to keep their head down and take it on the chin. It seems like when whites stand up and oppose the white supremacists online it leads to more dialog rather than silly comments like "f*** you sand n*****""terrorist""we shouldn't dilute our gene pool" blah blah blah. So from the bottom of my heart thank you.

In a time when one cannot be certain about who is at the helm of this country, it’s up to you to defend freedom and to speak up against hate. Don’t leave it for someone else.

If you've wondered what you would've done during slavery, the Holocaust, or Civil Rights movement...you're doing it now. #Charlottesville

— Aditi Juneja (@AditiJuneja3) August 12, 2017

Michael Peabody, Esq. is a regular Spectrum contributor and editor of ReligiousLiberty.TV, a website that celebrates freedom of conscience, where this article first appeared. It is reprinted here by permission.

Image Credit:Torchlight procession at white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. Photo: Karla Cote, Creative Commons, some rights reserved.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-22 Voices 2.png

I feel caught between a rock and a hard place.

Truth is I've felt like this for a long time but the events of the last few weeks have amplified this feeling. It is a feeling that many African-Americans, and especially young African-American Adventists, have been feeling for many years. We are torn. I am torn. I feel like my blackness and my Christianity are at odds.

Scripture is pretty clear that there shouldn't be division in the body of Christ. Jesus prayed that we would be one. Paul spoke against division in 1 Corinthians and Romans. There is no doubt in my mind that Christ desires that His church be unified and not be divided along ethnic, racial, or gender lines. In Christ there is no black or white, no Jew or Gentile, and no male or female. We are all equal in Christ's sight. There will not be separate white and black services in heaven. Heaven will not have a ghetto. We will all live together in peace and harmony. But we're not in heaven yet.

The Adventist church has been divided along racial lines officially for almost 80 years and unofficially since the late 19th century. I used to be very ambivalent about Regional (read black) Conferences. In light of all I said earlier and all that the Bible has to say about unity in the body of Christ I felt that the time of Regional Conferences had come to an end. We must unify. We must come together and be one church, one body awaiting the coming of Christ.

That's my Christianity talking.

But my blackness says I'm glad we have Regional Conferences. Yes, I'm glad. My blackness understands why Regional Conferences were created and sees their continued relevance. My blackness is glad that we have our own organizations where we can exact our own leadership and be in control of our own affairs and destinies. My blackness is glad I had the experiences at Pine Forge Academy (a historically black academy) and Oakwood University. My blackness doesn't believe that the Eurocentric church would ever fully address our concerns and meet our needs. My blackness doesn't believe the church would ever fully bring us into equal partnership any more than the society at large will.

In light of the recent election and the recent events in Charlottesville, my blackness is also very suspicious of white Christians, and yes that includes Adventists who voted for the current President. At some level, conscious or unconscious, these Christians decided that there were other issues more important than our dignity, our self-respect, our rights, and yes, even our lives.

So yes, I'm glad we have Regional Conferences. I know that conflicts with my Christianity, but as I said, I'm a soul in conflict. As are many of us.

Meade Adams pastored for 5 years in D.C. and Virginia. He currently serves as a chaplain in Louisiana.

Image Credit: Photo by William Stitt on Unsplash

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-23 Interview.png

In this exclusive and wide-ranging interview, the new president of Adventist University for Health Sciences in Florida, Dr. Edwin Hernández, discusses his philosophy of education, his own life-transforming experiences as a student, and the difficulty of filling David Greenlaw's shoes.

Question: You served as provost of Adventist University for Health Sciences before being announced in June as the new president, taking over this month from the university’s founder David Greenlaw. What part of the job are you most excited about as you take over the president’s chair? 

Answer: The part of the job that most excites me is reminding myself and the campus daily, on the why of our existence.  A special mission brings us together — to develop skilled professionals who live the healing values of Christ.  They are then equipped to extend the healing ministry of Christ — a noble endeavor that excites me every day.

My father was a hospital chaplain, a pastor, and a church leader, so I grew up with an understanding that Christ's presence is often most deeply felt in times of illness and suffering.

I am also excited about building on the strong foundation established by Dr. Greenlaw and planning a robust and compelling vision for the future of the University.  

What do you think will be the hardest part of the job?

So far, the limitation of 24 hours in a day is the most difficult constraint. There is much to do and too few hours in the day — so pacing oneself is critical.  Adopting a new role and understanding its demands takes time and getting used to the rhythm and expectations.  But I am a learner and enthusiastically embrace the challenges of my new role.  

You are only the second leader of ADU, succeeding the founder — aren’t those rather difficult shoes to fill?

Dr. David Greenlaw is a legendary leader with an extraordinary legacy. Rather than trying to fill his shoes, I hope to honor his steps by staying on the path he laid and building a promising future.  ADU grew from very humble beginnings to what it is now: a full-fledged university, offering undergraduate and graduate degrees and our first doctoral program in Physical Therapy. Expansion and opportunity are what lie ahead.

What plans and goals will you focus on as you settle into your new role?

We are beginning with a strong focus on mission, culture, and excellence. ADU has so many talented people and amazing assets — I want to help everyone work at their highest level and achieve their highest potential.  

We also want to work closely with our parent organization, Adventist Health System and Florida Hospital, to support, align, and enhance our shared vision and mission.  Our culture defines how we work together. At ADU we have many vibrant threads: education, scholarship, clinical practice, mentoring, facilities, faith, worship, learning, research and clinical labs, technology, communications, and resources. While each thread is bright on its own, it is also just a single thread, a portion of the whole. As we weave our separate threads together, we can create a beautiful tapestry of culture… of collaboration and mutual respect, of open communication and trust. My hope is that we will create a vibrant, Christ-like culture at ADU.

Excellence in education is what we strive for, not as a goal but rather as our standard. We must achieve excellence in all we do —  in terms of educating, clinical practice, research, technology and innovation, academic administration, department management, student support services —  but also in terms of honoring and valuing one another’s work, respecting and upholding one another’s human dignity, and maintaining the highest standards for personal integrity, both on and off the job. At ADU, these are not aspirations. They are requirements.

There are many exciting opportunities for the future.  As I mentioned, first and foremost is mission.  As an Adventist Christian institution of higher learning, ADU’s added value is squarely related to our ability to shape the hearts and minds of our students. I want them to see themselves as healthcare professionals who live the healing values of Christ, and extend His ministry in a way that measurably improves the health and vitality of the communities we serve. We want our graduates to be individuals of extraordinary character that bring purpose and hope to others.  Thinking and planning carefully about the educational experiences that are necessary to produce such individuals is a priority in the coming years. 

Related to this is making ADU a preeminent institution that advances our research knowledge on the relationship between spirituality and health and how best to train healthcare professionals who are spiritual ambassadors.  ADU, together with Adventist Health System, is uniquely positioned to demonstrate scientifically the added value and contributions that a faith-based mission brings to the wellbeing of individuals and communities. In addition, I would like to see ADU develop robust interprofessional learning experiences where each profession learns and collaborates with others — to see faculty and students across the disciplines be part of healthcare teams. 

Finally, the increasing complexities of the healthcare environment requires that we be innovative in our practice, thinking, and execution of healthcare education.

What are the major challenges facing the university?

Like most universities, we are always working to attract students that fit the mission, keep education affordable, expand opportunities for our graduates, and maintain high standards.

What makes ADU different than other Adventist colleges and universities? How are you different than other universities focused on healthcare?

Like all Adventist colleges and universities, ADU is a special place. It is unique in its exclusive focus on health professions, its close relationship with Florida Hospital and the career opportunities there, its small but modern and well-equipped campus, and its culture of collaboration and family feel. 

We are also different because we are primarily a community regional campus.  About 80 percent of our student body come from the central Florida region.  

And finally, we have been pioneers in online education.  

Despite these differences, we are united in the common mission of leading young people to Christ — shaping their characters to embrace their academic and professional skills as an extension of Christ’s ministry here on earth.  

What’s it like to be head of a college that is really new among its Adventist sister institutions, having only opened its doors in 1992?

That's a difficult question just three weeks in! Yet, our newness presents mostly opportunities for growth and expansion, including building a robust alumni organization, now that we have enough alumni (close to 8,000) to rally around future growth. 

Is ADU continuing to expand? Are you continuing to add programs? Is your enrollment still growing?

Growth will be part of our five-year plan!  Like other institutions, we have experienced the ebb and flow of enrollment patterns, but are still anticipating solid projections into the future.  The healthcare world is constantly changing, demanding professionals who are skilled, innovative in their thinking, leaders, compassionate, and loving people.  That is what we are about and why students come to us.

Your PhD is in sociology with a specialty in religion. How does this give you a unique perspective as leader of a university focused on healthcare?

Both education and healthcare are about people working in relationship, so sociology gives me a strong academic foundation from which to draw to understand systems and the role of culture in shaping people’s lives and motivations.

My research and experience will also help guide our growing expectations around scholarship by engaging faculty and students in advancing their fields of study through educational practices and research that improves health outcomes.

How does your previous work experience, and student experience, inform your philosophy of education?

My career has been dedicated to improving education in different ways: through study, research, grant making, writing, teaching, and more. My philosophy of education can be summed up quite simply: I believe everyone is born with unlimited, God-given potential to learn, and unlimited, God-given desire to contribute. Education is one of the most powerful catalysts we have for unleashing potential and equipping people to contribute to God’s mission of spreading a message of hope, forgiveness, and unconditional love.

Although you are the president now, do you feel like you still identify with the student experience?

I definitely still identify with the student experience.  There is nothing more transformative than developing relationships that have the power to change the life and direction of a student.  I can still remember my undergraduate days at La Sierra University when Dr. Richard Rice invited me to be his “reader” for the last two years of my academic program.  It was transformative and life-altering.  The experience of working alongside an extraordinary talented scholar like Dr. Rice was not only inspiring, but it affirmed my gifts and talents to pursue further academic training and a career as a scholar.

What do you think is the most important part of the job for the leader of an Adventist university?

The most important role of a leader of an Adventist University is inspiring and reminding people continually of our unique mission of restoring God’s image in each of us, of strengthening our walk with God, and making people whole — where our spiritual self is nurtured and allowed to flourish.   

At the end of the day, ADU’s mission is more than just excellent academic and clinical preparation, it is about shaping the heart and mind to develop a worldview that sees others as children of God thus eliciting the highest level of compassionate care and excellence. This is the “why” of Adventist higher education.  

The “how” is by: 1. Leading as a servant, as Christ modeled for us and inspiring people to live out our mission of “living the healing values of Christ”; 2. Assessing every decision in terms of students: will it help them achieve their potential and extend the healing ministry of Christ?; and 3. Building a culture in which everyone feels supported and valued and allowed to contribute at their highest level.

If I accomplish all three, everything else — sustainability, collaboration, excellence, growth — will follow. 

The healthcare field is evolving so rapidly. What do you do to ensure that the training you offer is up-to-date?

Staying up-to-date is a team effort. Our partnership with AHS/Florida Hospital is critically important here, as the constant collaboration with leaders and clinicians there ensures that ADU will never lapse into ivory tower syndrome and fall behind on current evidence-based practices and technologies. 

I am very proud of the faculty at ADU.  They are gifted, well-trained, and highly committed individuals. Over the last year ADU has inaugurated two new centers of excellence to advance the educational and research mission of the university. Being involved in scholarly and research endeavors is part of what it means to be a faculty member at a growing, maturing, and innovative university like ADU.  Yet, ADU will also always be an extraordinary center for teaching and learning.

These two dimensions — teaching and research — are mutually enhancing activities.  Increasingly on campus we talk about our faculty as teacher/scholars — individuals who are passionately gifted in the science and art of teaching while also involved in advancing knowledge in their field of study.  Students benefit greatly when faculty are engaged in scholarly activities, especially when students can participate in the creative process of advancing knowledge in their fields.  In this regard, we hope to increase opportunities for our students to be engaged in research activities.  As the university of Adventist Health Systems, we are increasingly being called to contribute to advancing evidence-based practices and to function as a think-tank for the growing demands in healthcare.   

Where do you see Adventist third-level education in the future, and how do you see it changing?

I think our relevance will continue to grow as we keep pace with the evolving needs of a changing world, a shifting workforce, and increasing globalization. Our faith base, our cultural diversity, our academic standards, and our commitment to excellence will all serve us well in the years and decades ahead.  

Within the context of Adventist higher education, I see greater collaboration — a merging of efforts and talents — in the future.  The greatest challenge is keeping higher education affordable for most of our church members and families that seek a faith-based educational experience.

We can no longer take for granted our value proposition as a faith-based educational system.  We must demonstrate it in real outcomes, the most important of which are transformed lives.  I am reminded of what David Brooks, New York Times Op-ed writer said related to this question:

“You [Christian Colleges] have what everybody else is desperate to have: a way of talking about and educating the human person in a way that integrates faith, emotion and intellect. . . Almost no other set of institutions in American society has that, and everyone wants it.”  

The opportunity for us is harnessing our collective assets, clearly identifying our value, embracing enthusiastically and prophetically the broader culture, creatively and boldly addressing the challenges before us, and convincingly articulating our missional task of restoring God’s image—that is what it will take to thrive into the future.

As you can tell, despite the challenges, I am bullish about the future of Adventist higher education.

What do you like to do when you aren’t working?

Those hours are limited these days, but I love to spend time with my family, play a game of tennis, go for extended walks, get out on the water, and I enjoy my worship experiences in the Florida Hospital Church community.  

I am also still actively (but very selectively) engaged in research with other colleagues, specifically working on a book project on the sociology of Latino congregations.  

To be very candid, I don’t know what I would do if I did not have the blessings of a sabbath day of rest — a 24-hour time off — God’s way of calling me towards balance.  Because I’ll be honest, I am always thinking about my work — it’s hard to turn it off. That is something I must work on: creating the sort of balance that allows me time to enjoy the pleasures of life while keeping a productive professional life.

Read a 2008 Spectruminterview with David Greenlaw, the founder of Adventist University of Health Sciences, then called Florida Hospital College of Health Sciences.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed. 

2017-08-25 Summer Reading Group Chap2.png

This is the second post in a seven-part series for Spectrum’s 2017 Summer Reading Group. Each post will be drawn from chapters of the book Humanism and the Death of God by Ronald E. Osborn. You can view the reading/posting schedule here.

You can’t say he didn’t see it coming; he did. Irish Bishop George Berkeley (1685-1753), fearing that the physicalist reductionism arising out of the Enlightenment and scientific revolution would, eventually, lead to materialist atheism, was right. It did, and we are living with the results, expressed (as one example) with Carl Sagan’s quote, a bit of inductive inference gone ape: “The Cosmos is all that is or was or ever will be.” (Wonder how he could have been so blasted sure?) Despite the Bishop’s prescience, his esse est percipi move—an attempt to save us from the atheistic materialism by denying the material world—did not do the trick. And so, today, left with the rubble, thinkers such as Ron Osborn bemoan, correctly, “the failure of philosophical naturalism/materialism to answer basic human needs or to sustain a strong sense of human flourishing and the dignity and equality of all persons.”

Yet Osborn’s “solution,” at least in the context of Darwin, does not offer us any better way out, I am afraid.

Do not get me wrong. Osborn is a brilliant writer and thinker, and with great sophistication and nuanced thought, he wrestles with an important question: “Can we have a rationally coherent, morally compelling, and historically sustainable discourse as well as practice of humanistic values and human rights without a ‘thick’ metaphysical or religious framework such as the one provided in the Western tradition for some two millennia by Judeo-Christian sources” (4)? In short, it is that Can-we-be-good-without-God? thing, a pithy but not particularly helpful way to deal with the crucial issue that Osborn tackles.  After all, in a post 9/11 world, believing in God does not obviously make one “good,” and even replacing “God” with “Jesus” hardly solves the problem. I mean, you are more likely to find an African-American at a KKK rally than an atheist. 

As the title of his book indicates, Osborn is dealing with this issue in dialogue with Darwin, Marx, and Nietzsche, and yet I contend that there is a substantial, even qualitative difference between Darwin’s relationship to the materialism that Ron decries and that of Marx and Nietzsche. Marx and Nietzsche were simply responding to the materialistic noosphere in which they lived and moved; Darwin, in contrast, helped create that noosphere—a fundamental difference that, I think, makes Osborn’s attempt to “baptize the devil,” no matter how well-intentioned, doomed from the start.

In the chapter titled “Dignity after Darwin,” Osborn addresses the rational results of the Darwinist propaganda coup that has swept the intellectual world with what eventually became known as the Neo-Darwinian Synthesis. A good portion of the chapter is Osborn revealing the horrific moral implications of Darwinism.

For instance, he writes about James Rachels, who argued that after Darwin the idea of human dignity is “the moral effluvium of a discredited metaphysics,” and, therefore, humans are no worthier of special consideration than other animals (24). Taking this idea to its logical conclusion, Australian philosopher, Peter Singer (deemed the father of the Animal Rights movement), had claimed that “on any fair comparison of morally relevant characteristics, like rationality, self-consciousness, awareness, autonomy, pleasure, pain, and so on, the calf, the pig, and the much-derided chicken come out well ahead of the fetus at any stage of pregnancy—while if we make the comparison with a fetus of less than three months old, a fish would show more signs of consciousness.” Singer has argued that, up to three months after a baby was born, parents should have the option for infanticide (he later backed off). After all, a catfish has more of the qualities we associate with a worthy life than does a fetus or even a newborn.

Though he does not address Singer directly, it is conclusions like these, and the battering to human dignity in general (all the inevitable results of Darwin’s theory), that such a compassionate thinker as Osborn confronts. (And, for what it is worth, Osborn, who could be sitting comfortably in some intellectual armchair in the West, is instead living out his Christianity by working in, of all places, Sudan.) If life, morality, and culture are just, he writes, “the outcomes of purely materialistic forces under conditions of natural selection” (29), then the foundation of our ethics becomes more like mush than tablets of stone.

“In a purely Darwinian universe,” he writes, “no statements of value can be made. Ever. Every appeal to beauty, honor, justice, compassion or purpose is excluded by the materialist hypothesis, so there is no normative standard by which any behavior can be judged, whether positively or negatively. Ethical precepts have no intrinsic meaning or claim on human conduct, but are simply additional facts of natural selection to be catalogued alongside strong talons and sharp teeth” (40).

So far, so good. But Osborn has a problem. He knows that honor, justice, beauty, compassion, and purpose exist and as more than just “additional facts of natural selection.” And though he writes that “there is no reason to reject Darwin’s theory outright,” something must be amiss with it because things like love, beauty, justice, and so forth are more than what the theory allows for. Therefore, Osborn reasons, “The problem, we must grasp, lies not in the evolutionism of Darwinian theory but in its naturalism, at least when taken without any epistemological or ontological qualifications or limits” (40).

He also argues: “The fact that there is something rather than nothing, that this something includes not only material objects but also living beings, that some of these living beings possess sentience or consciousness, and that some of these conscious beings possess a self-reflective awareness of their inner lives and an ability to contemplate the meaning of their own existence, means that there is more to our universe than any strictly materialist account, by very definition, can comprehend or explain without doing violence to the phenomena it sets out to describe” (68).

Yes, there is more to our universe than “any strictly materialist account” can account for (another reason why Darwinism is false), even if “the strictly materialist account” is what makes Darwinism Darwinism. The whole point of Darwinism was that, alas, we can now, ideally, explain everything—from horses’ manes to love, justice, beauty—by natural means alone, with no need for the “superstitions” of religious faith.

And here my friend’s Darwin dilemma comes into focus. He writes as if the problem with Darwinian theory is just its naturalism, as if its naturalism—even with “epistemological or ontological qualifications or limits”—is a mere auxiliary to it.  But that is like arguing that if you just eliminated Marx’s views of “class struggle,” Marxism would be fine.  Perhaps to spare himself the calumny that Thomas Nagel faced when he, with his Mind and Cosmos, openly challenged the Neo-Darwinian myth, Osborn never explicitly explains how he intends to deviate from a “strictly materialist account” without adding the supernatural into the mix. There are no degrees to naturalism: naturalism (at least as it is understood by scientific consensus today) is either naturalism or it is—what?—Supernaturalism. And because Osborn is a theist, I assume that is where his nicking and pecking at Darwin’s naturalistic fundamentalism is headed. This is problematic because the moment you get rid of the mindless, purposeless, directionless naturalism of Darwin’s theory, you no longer have naturalism or, in fact, Darwin’s theory.

What is fascinating is that atheist evolutionists see this paradox while theistic evolutionists do not (or will not). Evolutionist Richard Dewitt writes that “if one adds a supernatural involvement into the account of evolution by natural selection, say by allowing a God to meddle in the evolutionary process, then it is no longer natural selection. One is no longer taking natural science and evolutionary theory seriously. In short, taking natural science seriously means that an account of evolutionary development that is importantly influenced by a supernatural being is not an intellectually honest option.”[i]

I could not have said it better myself, though for years I have been trying.

Osborn also references John Polkinghorne, a theistic evolutionist whom I quote in my forthcoming book on evolution as arguing that God created through evolution in order to save the creation from “being overwhelmed by the naked presence of infinite Reality.” Osborn, though, quotes him as referring to the inadequacy of “unaided Darwinism.” Talk about theological newspeak! What, pray tell, is aided Darwinism? It is certainly not Darwinism, so this bit of linguistic subterfuge, in an attempt to expand the scope of the term, does not work.

It cannot. The moral nihilism that arises from Darwin’s theory does so logically and rationally, and all attempts to blunt it do so but by denying the reality of what Darwinism is and must lead to.

Like Nietzsche and Marx, Darwin was impacted by the naturalism that suffused their century. Unlike them, however, Darwin formulated a theory—a “scientific” one, mind you—that sealed the deal in many minds. That is, Darwin made it intellectually acceptable to look around at all the incredible design, the “beauty, honor, justice, compassion or purpose” that screamed “God!” but now allowed people to retort: “Nope, it’s just random mutation and natural selection, and we got the science to back it up, too, thank you.” Marx and Nietzsche simply took the implications of naturalism and ran with them. Darwin, in contrast, if not creating that naturalistic worldview, gave it the imprimatur of “science,” which, according to this age’s mythology, must make it true. In short, Osborn’s attempt to keep Darwinism and to Save the Phenomenon—i.e., the things that give humans dignity—fails. 

Even Osborn’s brilliance cannot square this circle.

Notes & References:

2017-08-25-johnssonbookchap8-b.PNG

“When should we use the Bible? It was written in a different culture. It is prescientific. It does not deal with many of our issues. We sometimes use it when we should not. How should we decide? These are complex questions and the answers are not straightforward. We are going to have to take a look at them someday.”

Forrest Howe concluded his overview of Chapter 8 in Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio by William G. Johnsson with these questions and comments. He was speaking on August 12 at the Roy Branson Legacy Sabbath School (RBLSS) in Loma Linda, California.

Howe is a retired Seventh-day Adventist minister who served with the American Bible Society and as a pastor and church administrator. Johnsson is the longstanding and now retired Editor of the Adventist Review. The title of the chapter is “Interpreting Scripture: Will Ellen Have the Last Word?”

As Howe indicated, in this chapter Johnsson elaborates two of his concerns about recent trends in Seventh-day Adventist biblical interpretation. One of these is the growing tendency in some places to read the Bible in flat, literalistic ways as though it were verbally inspired and everything it says is as important as everything else. He counters this with thinking of the Bible as being thought-inspired, nuanced, and centered on Jesus Christ.

Johnsson’s second concern is the growing tendency among some to elevate the writings of Ellen White higher than they should be and use them to settle all questions of biblical interpretations and solve all puzzles about how we should think and act today. He suggests that we need a better balance between making Scripture—and not Ellen White’s writings—supreme and making good use of their continuing value. As Johnsson sees it, these are two of several areas in which the denomination, or at least some of its top leadership, is not progressing but regressing.

The discussion that followed touched on how we ought to relate to our different ways of interpreting Scripture, whether things other than the Bible and the writings of Ellen White are also inspired, what today we should mean by “truth” or perhaps “truthiness,” whether we want what we say to make sense to others, whether Jesus “enhanced” or “changed” the teachings of the Old Testament, and whether the distinction between “verbal” and “thought” inspiration survives scrutiny.

Although his was not the last comment, Graham Stacey had the final word. “The ultimate test of what we believe is how it causes us to behave,” this minister, psychologist, and Loma Linda University School of Dentistry administrator said.

My own answer to Howe’s questions is that we ought to “use” the Bible everywhere and always, and with respect to all questions and issues, without a single exception. Knowing him as I do, I am confident that once I explained what I meant, Howe would agree.

More on that at another time. Meanwhile, enjoy the video!

In addition to Forrest Howe, RBLSS thanks Laura Alipoon (Moderator), Alan Alipoon (Videographer), Alisa Williams (Managing Editor, Spectrum) and Bonnie Dwyer (Editor, Spectrum). Roy would be pleased!

For more information, please visit bransonlegacysabbathschool.com.

WATCH: Forrest Howe on Chapter 8 in "Where Are We Headed" by William G. Johnsson

See also:
William G. Johnsson Explains Why He Wrote Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio,
The Professors Valentine Expand Upon Chapter 1 in "Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio",
Laura Alipoon Highlights Adventist Diversity in Chapter 2 of “Where Are We Headed? Adventism After San Antonio”,
Calvin Thomsen’s Discussion of Chapter 3 in “Where Are We Headed? Adventism after San Antonio” Assails Neo-Calvinism,
Carla Gober-Park Expands “the Main Thing” in Chapter 4 of “Where Are We Headed?” by William G. Johnsson,
Leo Ranzolin’s Response to Chapter 5 in “Where Are We Headed?” Poses Three Questions and Cites One Poet,
Genesis and Geology in Paradox: Ben Clausen’s Response to Chapter 6 in “Where Are We Headed” by William G. Johnsson, and
Hermeneutical Community and Invisible Remnant? Jerald Whitehouse’s Response to Chapter 7 in “Where Are We Headed?” by William G. Johnsson

Dr. David Larson is Professor of Religion at Loma Linda University.

Image Credit: Video Still

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-08-26-voices-solareclipse-artrobertson-2.png

It is the day before the great event. Our granddaughter is lamenting that, for her, two once-in-a-lifetime events will fall on the same day: her first day of college and the total solar eclipse.

My son and I are enjoying spending part of the afternoon working together, setting up equipment—using compass and levels to align the SkyTracker camera mount with the celestial north pole, stabilizing the photo tripod with a gallon jug of water hung from the center post, arranging camera and electrical cables, making a large diagram to lay on the ground with arrows pointing to the stars and planets we hope to see during the darkness of the eclipse.

A storm with high winds and rain knocked out power for several hours last night. We cover the equipment with plastic bags, hoping it will be safe through the night.

Traveling to see an eclipse is an act of faith—or, more precisely, an act of hope. At the moment of the great event, the sky may be clear—or not. Long-term forecasts and historical averages help select a promising location, but no one can control or guarantee the weather.

We had invites from family members living at different places within the band of totality. Ultimately, we decided on our son’s place near Roca, Nebraska, which promised two minutes and 18 seconds of total eclipse with over 50% chance of clear skies based on historical records.

We made the choice that “It’s going to be a good trip” with family and travel—whether or not the weather granted us a view of the eclipse. So with the old Prius loaded with photo equipment, snacks, and our miniature dachshund Zippy, we headed out from Michigan.

Adding zest to the trip, we detoured into Chicago to the starting point of Historic Route 66 and followed the first few miles of the Mother Road west, stopping for a veggie hot dog at Henry’s Drive In, a relic from the 1950s, with a giant hot dog and fries sign out front.

Sporadic peeks at cloud forecasts showed predictions of cloud cover at Roca at eclipse time bouncing between 10 and 70%. Hope springs eternal. Even if clouds blocked our view, we would experience midday darkness when the moon obscured the sun.

The day of the eclipse traffic jammed bumper to bumper (with lots of out-of-state license plates) on Highway 77 which goes south past our son’s property. We were thankful for a secluded viewing site in his back yard on a knoll.

Our son had closed his business for the day and invited his employees over for an eclipse party, ensuring a good time together with family and friends, regardless of the weather.

During the developing partial phase of the eclipse, the sun could be seen and photographed through thin clouds.

As the sky darkened in the minutes before totality, I felt as if I were wearing dark glasses—but I wasn’t. As the warmth of the sun was blocked, the temperature dropped, and we felt cooler.

About five minutes before the onset of totality, the darkest cloud of the day blocked the sun from view and hid the onset of the full eclipse. No Bailey’s beads, no chromosphere, no diamond ring, no corona.

Nonetheless, in the near darkness we could see Venus shining brightly in a clear space between the clouds. Looking around, we saw a circumferential sunset with a band of red-orange at the horizon in various directions.

An eerie silence? Hardly. A group who had been target practicing in the nearby woods marked totality with a sustained volley of multiple semiautomatic rifles firing simultaneously.

We looked for the hens who had been released from their coop earlier, but they seemed not to notice the darkness and to be uninterested in returning to their roosts.

And then, a few seconds before the end of totality, the clouds thinned, revealing a beautiful diamond ring effect. And the camera caught images of the corona.

As the moon’s movement revealed more of the sun after totality, the sky brightened, the clouds cleared, and the group’s attention waned. Anticipation, excitement, and childlike wonder morphed into memories, photos, and gratitude. And thoughts of 2024.

WATCH: Time-lapse video of the 2017 solar eclipse

Art Robertson is a retired physician enjoying family, friends, photography, astronomy, and the Adventist Forum.

All images and time-lapse video courtesy of Art Robertson.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

Inline Images: 

ben-white-170483.jpg

Christmas is fast approaching, and many churches, ours and others, are busy preparing their annual Christmas pageant. Whether the show is a grandiose one with live characters or a simple one with a toy manger and dressed up dolls, the person in importance next to Jesus is Mary. Joseph stands somewhere in the background and looks benignly down at the infant. The accompanying reading for the Christmas pageant is always taken from Luke’s detailed account of the birth story in which one significant mention is made of Joseph.

So, Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.” Luke 2:4

Why significant? Is it too preposterous to argue that without Joseph, Jesus would have had no claim to the title of Messiah? Let us spend some time thinking about the importance of the man in the nativity event.

Mary was betrothed to Joseph. Today, men and women fall in love and then, eventually, talk to their parents. Things were different two thousand years ago. Joseph was most certainly quite older than Mary who may have only been in her early teens. He first talked to her father and, after some negotiation, settled for an agreed upon dowry.  A date was decided for the marriage, and then whatever preparation was necessary got under way. Mary did not have anything or much to say in the matter.

Then came the bombshell—that Mary was pregnant. Infamy and shame fell on Joseph and on both families. The readers are left to wonder how and when Mary broke the news to him. We can only guess that it must have been an extremely difficult conversation. The Bible tells another story when the main character did not mention a word to his wife about what God asked him to do because of the possible emotional backlash. “Take your son, your only son whom you love . . . and sacrifice him as a burnt offering” (Genesis 22:1, 2). Mary did talk to Joseph, starting a significant chain of events.

The conversation created a huge struggle in Joseph’s mind. Being very discreet, Matthew simply said that Joseph spent time considering this unexpected turn of events. Here was this mature man, a righteous man with high moral values, now faced with three choices, all three fraught with pain. Also, how traumatic must have been the waiting for Mary as she faced the possibility of a violent death for her and the fetus that she carried. Three choices:

(1) Disclosure to the Elders, then to the father, break off the engagement, recuperate the dowry, stand with the crowd to watch the execution of the girl by stoning in front of her father’s house (Deuteronomy 22:20). He certainly knew that the offended party was required to cast the first stone.  

(2) A quiet divorce that would possibly protect the families from disgrace, at least for a while, until the pregnancy became obvious or a discrete early abortion removed the stigma. Joseph was a good man. He took time to consider. One can only surmise the emotional roller coaster that would carry him into unchartered territory. He chose to withdraw quietly, that is until God intervened and changed his mind with a dream. One wonders why God would place a teenager in such a frightening situation unless . . . God knew Joseph.

(3) The third choice was to go ahead with the marriage. That would certainly start unending ripples of slander, gossip, half-veiled allusions about an older man getting conned by a teenage wayward lass, not to mention the sly smiles or open laughter.

Joseph considered. No doubt he knew about Isaiah 7:14: “Therefore, the Lord himself will give you a sign. The virgin will be with child.”

Was it possible that Mary’s story was the beginning of the fulfilment of the prophecy? He also knew the promise made to his forefather David about his royal house standing forever (2 Samuel 7:29). Would the baby be the ultimate fulfilment of those prophecies?

As Joseph considered, an angel of the Lord came to him in a dream. The words of the angel were extremely important in that they were loaded with significance for God’s plan of redemption. The angel addressed the man as “Joseph, son of David.” What Joseph would decide to do would establish or disrupt the divine plan. Like his ancestor David, Joseph was a man according to God’s own heart. I would suggest that because God knew the man, God felt safe to entrust the life of his Son (i.e., his plan to save the world) to that man.

One must now take a good look at the genealogy that Matthew constructed artificially as a preamble to his record of the birth of Jesus. Today, unless one is royalty or the heir of a long history of accumulated wealth, genealogies are not foremost in people’s minds. Not so back then.

The life of a man had no intrinsic meaningfulness independently of his origins and his roots. This was even more important for Jesus who would later refer to himself as the Messiah. In a very important way, the earthly birth narrated by Matthew was undergirded by a history the stages of which were anchored in carefully recorded past events and long-gone significant ancestors. Jesus was the last offspring in a long line of individuals going back to Abraham. Their individual story was not what counted so much as the fact that together they gave an identity to a chosen people, a nation created by God himself. A nation with whom God had made a covenant by his Promise and by his Law and whose secular and temporal royalty was but the sign and announcement of a future divine and eternal royalty.

Matthew gathered the names of the ancestors of Jesus in three segments of fourteen. The number was significant in that the numerical value of the name David was fourteen, which was Matthew’s way of implying that Jesus was linked to David’s house. Three was the number of the divine which, therefore, linked Jesus with deity.

One commentary of the Gospel of Matthew sees the period that extended from Abraham to David as the time of the promise during which time the chosen people were given an identity and a mission. From David to the Babylonian Captivity was the time of the judgment and chastisement of the nation for having failed to understand and activate the purpose set by God (see the messages of the Old Testament prophets). Finally, from the Captivity to the Messiah was the time of hope and consolation. In Jesus, each of these was to find its ultimate fulfilment (Roux, Herbert, L’Evangile du Royaume, Labor et Fides, p. 25). Matthew’s genealogy was indeed much more theological in purpose than historical.

In the cultural context of the day, Mary was just a woman whose only recognized status when of age would be that of wife and mother, hopefully of many sons. It was by becoming the wife of Joseph that Mary got entrance into the Messiah’s lineage. And in the story of redemption, she became the final link in the human ascendancy of Jesus.

Mary was first and foremost an Israelite woman and wife. As such, like all the women in the Bible, she was dependent of the men in her life; first her father, then her husband. Mary conceived by the virtue of the Holy Spirit, but had Joseph decided not to marry her — which he was legally entitled to decide — her child would have been a nobody unless God acted in ways totally foreign to the cultural boundaries of the time, boundaries established by Moses on God’s express command.

By taking Mary as his wife, Joseph gave a legal paternity to the child. As the adoptive father, he legally passed on to the boy his ascendancy line that went all the way back to David and Abraham. In the eyes of Israel, Jesus was the son of Joseph, the acknowledged link that connected Jesus with the stump of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1). In the eyes of the people and the Law, this would remain so throughout the life of Jesus.  

Taking a glance behind the heavenly curtain, I can imagine the angels waiting, holding their breaths. First, would a young maid in her early teens, still living under her father’s roof, give credence to the words of an angel? Loaded words that could potentially take her straight to a painful and ignominious death. An angelic sigh of relief came when she simply uttered the incredible words “May it be to me as you have said.”

The plan now faced a larger hurdle. What would the husband-to-be decide? Another huge celestial sigh of relief. I can imagine a jubilant angel of the Lord hastening back to the heavenly courts shouting “He said “YESSSS!” No wonder the angelic choir sang. The last time the anthem was heard was at the creation (Job 38:7). Then came the day of darkest gloom. “The news of man’s fall spread through heaven. Every harp was hushed. The angels cast their crowns from their heads in sorrow” (Ellen White, Desire of the Ages).

But now glorious strains resounded throughout the heavenly vault again.

Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace to men of good will.”

Jesus was the last element of a one-thousand-year history. His history gave meaning to his life and mission; at the same time, his life and mission gave a glorious new dimension to that history. Remove Joseph from the nativity narrative, and the story becomes a non-event.

Eddy Johnson is the director of ADRA Blacktown in New South Wales, Australia, and a retired pastor.

Image Credit: Photo by Ben White on Unsplash


If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

2017-12-6-voices.png

Many of us living through October 2017 could not but dwell on the significance of what happened exactly 500 years ago when Martin Luther decided to open up a conversation about the appropriateness of the selling of indulgences to shorten the time the souls of the dead spend in Purgatory. The selling of indulgences was a financial transaction that greatly benefited an ecclesiastical hierarchy that was in constant need of more money to sustain its lavish living style and monumental building projects.

These exorbitant demonstrations of wealth and power had been under attack for some time. Many had spoken against the abuses that were going on and had stated that the ecclesiastical structure of the Christian Church of the West was in urgent need of reform. These prophetic voices had been silenced, however, by even further abuses of power. Memory of the struggles between popes sitting on different seats anathematizing each other, and the popular knowledge of the prevailing nepotism and simony in the appointment of higher clergy provided strong arguments for the demands of serious structural reforms in the church.

Martin Luther surprised everyone by focusing his arguments not on the ecclesiastical abuses of power but on the theological foundations of the selling of indulgences. He did not propose to defend the need for a different organizational structure that would no longer depend on the selling of indulgences. He proposed to defend in an open forum 95 propositions that debunked the theology that supported the selling of indulgences and other abusing church practices. He claimed to be upholding a biblically based theology that gave God and God's Grace, rather than fear of Purgatory, the central role in the divine/human economy. In the process, Luther took away from the ecclesiastical authorities their claim to be the only authorized channel through which the Holy Spirit could flow.

Luther's decision to post the 95 propositions he was willing to publicly defend on a biblical basis, without recourse to the dictamens of the Church Fathers, did not take place in a vacuum. He was the product of the advances achieved by an already flourishing recovery of the classical civilizations of Greece and Rome. The isolation of monasteries and the artificial world of chivalry had given place to the tensions with the world of Islam that was on the verge of engulfing Vienna as its stronghold in Europe. It was no longer a matter of Crusades to the Holy Land but of expulsing the Turks from Europe itself. Popes and princes were calling for war with the invaders while Erasmus of Rotterdam was the lonely one calling for sanity and peace. Also changing the European panorama even more significantly was that, having expelled the Muslims from its territories, Spain had opened a new continent to European exploitation. The riches of America were already transforming the European economy and providing an outlet to those seeking new horizons.

The ferment of the Renaissance of a classical past was brewing effectively, producing a new vision of the human person. It was restoring to each individual human being the glory of having been created in the image of God. On that basis, the connection between God and his creatures came to be understood as direct, as most beautifully represented by Michelangelo in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. It was in this culturally rich and expanding European civilization, where universities rather than armies provided the means for the transformation of young people into adults, that Martin Luther developed, reconsidered, and ultimately decided to speak out in defense of what, after much careful reading of the Bible in its original languages, he had come to understand as the Gospel.

Reflecting on Luther's desire to open up a conversation with fellow Christians that would recover the message of the Gospel, I cannot but think that the parallels between his situation and the one which quite a few of us face within the current Adventist Church are unnerving.

For some time already, several voices have been calling for a reconsideration of the ecclesiastical structure of our church and of the way in which it functions. The lack of transparency, the manipulation of agendas, the withholding of access to documents from those who are asked to vote on them, the misappropriation of monies, the attempts to bring about uniformity in matters of lifestyle and thought, the ostracizing of brothers and sisters on prejudicial grounds, the defense of a patriarchal social order,  the instances of nepotism have been identified repeatedly in the past as evidence for the need of radical structural revisions and as factors posing the danger of a breaking-up of the church. The church, let it be understood, cannot be a democracy. Her ruler is not the people but the Lord Jesus Christ. The ecclesiastical structure of the church, however, cannot be an oligarchy or a dictatorship. Those who exercise ecclesiastical leadership, as Jesus said, cannot be masters but must be servants of all, not of their superiors. In our church, as in Luther's church, reforms of a dysfunctional ecclesiastical hierarchy have been called for by many and are urgently needed.

Like in Luther's time, we also live in a fermenting and expanding cultural moment. Scientific explorations both in the micro and in the macro cosmos are continually changing what not too long ago was believed to be the case. Just this week a meteorite from another solar system has been discovered after it had been traveling in space for millions of years before entering our solar system. While to some these discoveries are reasons for excitement and signs of progress, to others they are sources of great discomfort and evidence of decadence. The expansion of rising social and economic expectations among the peoples of China, India, and Southeast Asia have brought about their reduction among the masses in the First World. The transportation boom is making the preservation of ethnically-defined nations problematic. The rumblings of wars are welcomed by some but are a source of fear to others. The threat posed by the existence of nuclear power is making its control and the definition of its purpose more urgent and difficult. Most significantly, our time is benefiting from the opening of a new continent. It is not America but Cyberspace. The riches of this continent are revolutionizing societal behaviors and upsetting the economic landscape. These developments have been transforming the way in which people see themselves in the world, and they call for a convincing reformulation of the Gospel. Facing this challenge, our church has been a prisoner of formulas of the nineteenth century that prevent her to be a witness of the power of the Gospel.

Faith is not a way of thinking but a way of being in the world in which one has the privilege of living. As members of the body of Christ, Christians are called to make him present in the world. He was true to God in his world. We must be true to God in ours, just as Luther was true to God in his. He lived in a church in dire need of structural reforms, but rather than deal with them directly, he addressed the proclamation of a gospel that was no Gospel. Now that the Adventist Church is in need of a serious reconsideration of how it functions, what is called for is a theological reconsideration of her gospel.

Even though Luther remained a child of his age in his autocratic ways, his bellicose spirit, and his racial prejudices, he did learn from Paul that a gospel that does not bring about freedom is no Gospel at all. Christians are not meant to live in fear, particularly fear of a sinful past, of a judgmental present, or of the “strong” who enforce their judgments, but to live free in Christ. Luther's short tract “On the Freedom of the Christian” is a magisterial exposition of what must characterize a Christian's life in his/her everyday endeavors, thus demonstrating the power of the Gospel.

In this tract, Luther takes up two statements of Paul to demonstrate the connection between “spiritual liberty and servitude”: “Though I be free from all men, yet I have made myself servant of all” (1 Corinthians 9:19) and “Owe no man anything, but to love one another” (Romans 12:8). From these declarations of Paul, Luther derives two propositions that seem to contradict each other but which, he cogently argues, belong together: “A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to everyone.” He ends the tract giving a concrete example of the spiritual liberty and the servitude of a Christian when facing two types of persons. Dealing with a “hardened and obstinate ceremonialist” (read, bound to the traditions of his church) . . . “who refuses to listen to the truth of liberty,” a Christian must “resist, do just the contrary of what they do, and be bold to give them offence.” On the other hand, dealing with “the simple minded and ignorant person, weak in the faith, as the Apostle calls them, who are yet unable to apprehend the liberty of faith, even if willing to do so,” Luther says, “these we must spare, less they should be offended. We must bear with their infirmity.” Freedom and service are not contradictory.  They are complementing aspects of the true Christian life, one that owes every one love.

Today the Adventist Church needs prophetic voices that will convict her of her obsession with obedience to the Law of Moses and her enchantment with herself and her “Truth.” Just as Luther measured the gospel of his church against the writings of Paul, so now it is necessary to measure what our church is teaching against the writings of Paul. She is negating the centrality of the God who raised Christ from the dead and paying homage to the Jesus who lived in complete obedience to the Law. Supposedly, it is on this basis that he is able to impart the righteousness he attained from the Law to those who believe in him. This is a denial of the Gospel. Jesus, as Paul makes absolutely clear, was not recognized by God for his keeping of the 10 Commandments but by his faith. The “obedience of faith,” as Paul does not tire to emphasize, is not related to the 10 Commandments but to a way of being in the world as a creature who lives by the power of the Creator. As such, it is something totally beyond the requirements of commandments. The obedience of faith is exhibited by what Paul designates as the fruit of the Spirit, against which, Paul affirms, there is no Law. He did not think he needed to specify that neither is it the product of obedience to the Law.

Unlike the New Testament scholars who fifty years ago were prone to affirm that Jesus was a Christian who abolished the Law, New Testament scholars these days are more likely to affirm that Jesus was a law-observant Jew. This only says that, like all Jews before the Resurrection, Jesus lived “under the law,” as Paul explicitly states. What needs to be noticed is that, as Paul also says, no Christian, whether Jew of Gentile, lives “under the law.” Making a fetish of the 10 Commandments as eternal (even though Paul also says that they did not exist before Moses), and of the Bible as “the written word” of God (even though the Word of God has always been a spoken word), is preventing the Adventist Church from making the reforms needed before she can accomplish her role as the agent of freedom from sin and eschatological death. These days, when the end of history can be accomplished without God's intervention, the need to place faith in God as Creator is crucial.

As Paul explicitly points out, Christians have as a model the faith of Jesus, which had its type in the faith of Abraham. Reflecting on the experience of Abraham, Paul brings up that he complained to God for not having kept his promise of descendants while Sarah and he still had fertile bodies. In response, God reassured Abraham that Ishmael — his son by a slave in his household — would not inherit him. He was going to have a son born in freedom from his legitimate wife. Paul finds quite remarkable that Abraham believed God. Knowing that all the natural avenues for the birth of such a son were closed, Abraham had faith in the God who, as Paul says, “gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist” (Romans 4:17, RSV, or “names the things that are not, as well as the things that are,” my translation). Paul's God is the God who raised Christ from the dead and has control over the frontier that separates non-existence from existence. Faith in this God is the faith that gives a person freedom to live not just out of the past (actuality) but also out of the future (potentiality), thus making the present a life with God.

For the Adventist Church to have a future, it must also have faith in the God who has control over the frontier between non-being and being, between potentiality and actuality, and who as such is the Only One with Ultimate Freedom and the source of all true freedom. She must cease living entrenched and fearful, always in need of an enemy to justify its existence. This makes her one more organization structured according to the standards of the capitalist world of the survival of the fittest, always in need to quantify her success. It must let God free her from the restraints of her insecurity and fear. Now that the future of the world more than ever seems to be in human hands, faith in the God who raised Christ from the dead rather than the Jesus who obeyed the Law is of the essence. But the only way to be open to God's future is by being free from the fear that the Law imposes on those who live “under” it.

We need a Martin Luther who will challenge the Adventist Church not in terms of her policies and their manipulation by ecclesiastical authorities but by openly and plainly confronting her with the Gospel of the God who raised Christ from the dead. The Gospel is power to impart life. On this account, it is the demonstration of God's righteousness, not that of believers. The power of the Gospel gives life to those who with Christ die to the world and are raised, like Christ was, by the power of the Spirit. The Gospel is not about a legal sleight of hand that declares sinners righteous. It is the power to give life to all those who no longer live just in the world of Adam but who have been made alive and are new creations in the world of the Second Adam.

Adventist theology is not to be found in the writings of Edward Heppenstall, Fritz Guy, or Richard Rice. It is found in the Sabbath School Quarterly lessons that come out these days as expressions of the official Adventist Church. When for two quarters in a row the Sabbath School lessons purporting to be dealing with the letters of Paul To the Galatians and To the Romans instead of presenting Paul's teaching inculcate an Adventist ideology about obedience to an eternal law and that Jesus is the Second Adam, it is undeniable that the ecclesiastical authorities that control the Sabbath School Quarterly lessons are in dire need of having the Gospel preached to them. Paul makes absolutely clear that believers are not declared righteous by Jesus' works of law. Rather, the righteousness of God is manifest vis a vis the faith of Jesus and is effective in all those who have been made alive by the power of the Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. This is the Gospel that a world drunk with the power in its hands needs to hear to come to terms with God's purpose to give life to all God's children.

Herold Weiss is professor emeritus of Religious Studies at Saint Mary's College, Notre Dame, Indiana.

Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.