About Adventist Today magazine

Adventist Today represents a worldwide family of believers in Christ’s redemptive grace, who believe in the freedom to explore new understandings of God without censure through accessible, independent journalism. Because we love the Seventh-day Adventist church and want it to be the best that it can be, we encourage friendly, constructive accountability, report factually, respect both science and Scripture, and encourage thoughtful conversation. We are appreciative of our shared Adventist heritage, and seek to be a constructive, innovative voice in pursuit of spiritual and congregational health.

16November2024

Editorial: “Can This Church Change?”

Features editorial

It is likely that Adventist Today readers aren’t typical of most Seventh-day Adventists around the world. But inasmuch as we represent a rather significant portion of the church, it would seem in the denomination’s interest to make room for us.

But can that happen? I’m not sure. Even if it were possible, it would be risky—and it might require more skillful leadership than we have right now.

I think of a conversation I had once with the late Marvin Moore, editor of Signs of the Times magazine. He told me how dramatically the magazine’s subscriptions had dropped in recent years. We talked about this venerable publication, and how sad if that nameplate that was so important to our pioneers would be lost.

I asked him, “Why don’t you update the magazine—do something for a new generation?” His response, essentially, was that they couldn’t update it without losing the support they have. When we try something creative, Marvin said, right away the support from the traditionalists drops. And, he admitted, that supportive generation is dying.

In short, we don’t know how to update our product without losing our remaining customers.

It’s a good illustration about the difficulty of change, and I’ve thought about it often. It is the story not just of a magazine, but of the whole church. Yes, whole segments of the church—notably the young—are leaving. But the people who support it the most vigorously right now will leave sooner if we try to change things.

So we won’t. We’ll let it die, because we can’t change.

Perhaps this is what’s behind Ted Wilson’s eager evocation of the shaking. Let the doubters go, and we’ll be left with only the perfect people. I don’t think it will work, but if he persists, he may get his wish.

As for Adventist Today, we want to make the church welcoming to everyone—even those who have reframed what it means to be a Seventh-day Adventist

Loren Seibold
Executive Editor, Adventist Today magazine and website
16 November 2024

Jesus is Enough

By Loren Seibold

A few weeks ago a commenter replied to an Aunt Sevvy column,

Most, if not at all, of the issues that garner so much feedback, like the current questions about The Great Controversy, the role of Ellen White, perfectionism, what you eat and wear—are so much white noise in the light of the gospel. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem anything is going to change, and so Aunt Sevvy will continue to receive questions regarding peripheral and unimportant matters.

We at Adventist Today are constantly surprised at how eagerly people engage in conversations about food and jewelry, the unfulfilled details of the end times, and Ellen White’s many, many instructions. It shows how much this majoring in minors has hurt people.

Sometimes I feel hopeful enough to think, “Perhaps we are at long last maturing past Cradle Roll faith. Perhaps we Adventists are learning to value nothing ‘save Jesus Christ and Him crucified.’” But then the General Conference Executive Committee meets, people fly in (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of dollars) from all over the world, and the president of the General Conference spends hours reading aloud from Counsels on Diets and Foods! 

We long for a church that values kindness, mercy, and God’s grace more than anything else. But then the man at the very pinnacle of church leadership tells us that he really does think that eating the right food is the most important thing we have to worry about. 

I am forced to conclude that our church is led by men with a child’s view of God. The way they present our faith has caused so much anxiety—and about things that even the Bible writers say isn’t important! The apostles Paul himself said, “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”

That’s why sometimes Adventist Today has to name the things we have been told to fret about, and remind you that they are silly or unimportant. 

Let us set our sights higher. Let us be like Jesus. Let us love God, and our neighbors as ourselves. Let us practice love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

That’s enough—really!

Loren Seibold

Executive Editor, Adventist Today magazine and website

Is God Really in Control?

Commentary

by Richard W. Coffen  |  1 October 2024  |

To quote recent politicians: “Let me be clear.” 

Theologically, divine will means that which God wants. John Calvin averred such in Institutes: God has predestined everything, no matter how small, to happen. That which God wills, is what God wants. According to Calvin, God wanted Adam and Eve to sin! “The first man fell because the Lord deemed it meet that he should….” (Institutes, Book 3, chapter xxiii, section 8). 

Therefore, God is in control! 

Does control mean accountability?

In 1969, Betty Penrose’s house was struck by lightning. Since God is purportedly in control, she sued God. In Betty Penrose v. God, God was fined $100,000. Why not? God’s in control.

In 2006 when we moved from Hagerstown, Maryland, to Gretna, Nebraska, we had to change insurance companies. Our previous underwriter had dispensed so much money for losses resulting from “acts of God”—tornadoes—that it refused thereafter to insure houses in greater Omaha.

Two years following our move to Nebraska, state senator Ernie Chambers filed a lawsuit against God. Why? Because of God’s role in producing “fearsome floods … horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes… widespread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants.” (The suit was dismissed because God’s address is unlisted—God can’t be served.)

Just recently, the television news showed an entire house floating down a river as if it were a luxury yacht. Coincidentally, at about the same time, an actual luxury yacht sank near Sicily, with seven lives lost.

Then this week, we all saw graphic images of washed out roads, highways blocked by mudslides in the American south from Hurricane Helene, and properties in ashes from raging wildfires above Loma Linda. 

According to NOAA, last year (2023), disasters caused by weather and climate caused damages of nearly $93,000,000,000. According to a July 2024 report, during the months of January to July, 28,154 wildfires consumed 4,449,282 acres. There’s been more since.

Is God in control?

Sometimes, in the Bible, God appears to take control—at least in personal and tribal matters. 

YHWH spat fire that devoured spiritually delinquent Nadab and Abihu (Numbers 3:4). Later YHWH slayed defiant Korah, Dathan, and Abiram (Numbers 24:10). Uzzah reflexively reached out to steady the ark of the covenant so that it wouldn’t crash and splinter into shards. YHWH struck him dead—for caring (2 Samuel 6:7)!

But does God still do that?

We’ve all read stories in our publications about Adventist buildings, or tithe-paying farmers’ crops, which Divine intervention saved from destruction by fire or hail or…whatever. We’re to conclude that as judge of “all the earth,” God is in control, graciously saving the righteous and wreaking havoc upon wrongdoers. Historical events—recent and ancient—provide empirical proof.

Yet monsoon-like storms battered Gillette, Wyoming, where some 60,000 people (nearly double the 33,500 population of Gillette!) were camping at the worldwide Pathfinder Camporee. Rain and mire left Pathfinders and their chaperones slogging about in muddy shoes and wearing soaked Pathfinder uniforms. It was the rainy season, and it brought this five-year event to an inglorious end.

Then there’s the conflagration that left the Spencerville Adventist church charred—to put it mildly. If the property is salvageable, it will take multiple millions of dollars and years for restoration. 

And this congregation, if you don’t know, includes numerous General Conference personnel.

Considering the biblical examples previously cited, wouldn’t it be logical to conclude that most of the tenters at the Camporee, and most of the congregants at the Spencerville church, are evildoers? Why else would YHWH vent his spleen at their expense? During this time of the Investigative Judgment, the “judge of all [the earth]” (Hebrews 12:23; Genesis 18:25) pronounced these evildoers “Guilty!”—and executed the sentence.

Logic forces me to conclude that as the Spencerville congregation now meets at General Conference headquarters, “soon and very soon” tragedy will strike this new venue. After all, the evildoers have merely switched locations.

I’m being ironic

I hope you haven’t taken the above paragraphs seriously. But just in case, let me offer some straightforward science and theology.

We all go calmly about our daily lives because we live in a cosmos created and sustained by a Deity who never changes (Malachi 3:6; James 1:17). Were God to intervene here or wreak havoc there, we’d all be basket cases. Would you enjoy living in a world in which the law of the impenetrability of matter prevails only sometimes? What if our Sustainer on occasion nullifies natural law to save you from yourself or from another careless driver? It could mean chaos! 

As for natural laws: suppose that sometimes Bernoulli’s Principle remains in existence but sometimes YHWH quits his job as Sustainer, so thousands die as airplanes plunge from the sky. The National Transportation Safety Board would be greatly troubled!

A more scientifically and theologically sensible perspective is that natural laws are as eternal as immutable YHWH. Al Smith, my astronomy teacher at Atlantic Union College, used to say that natural laws are God’s way of running the cosmos. Period. Smith proposed that what we designate as “miracle” is God’s using various natural laws, some of which we might be ignorant of.

The Sustainer remains immutable; therefore, we needn’t become neurotic. 

Observations from Jesus 

According to first-century local news, Pilate slaughtered some Galileans, people from Jesus’ homeland. Most everyone had heard of that procurator’s dastardly deed. Jesus didn’t assume that this was God’s willful executive judgment and resulting verdict. 

Again, feasibly a result of an earthquake rumbling beneath the Holy Land, 18 people were crushed to death when the Tower of Siloam collapsed. Jesus insisted that these victims weren’t worse sinners than others. Indeed, such things don’t matter to the divine Judge. He sends sunshine and rain on both good and bad people (Matthew 5:45).

Robert Louis Stevenson says in his book The Wrecker that “turn about’s fair play.” The same may hold true in the context of this essay. One of our favorite proof texts says: “Fear God, and give glory to him; for the hour of his judgment is come” (Revelation 14:7). Historically, in a height of hubris, we Adventists have applied this passage to ourselves. We are the defendants. He is judging us.

However, there’s another way to interpret it. What if God is the defendant? The time has come for the tables to be turned: God is on trial. The Judge has become the defendant!

God will answer for all that has happened. And in the end, God will set things right.

Richard W. Coffen is a retired vice president of editorial services at Review and Herald Publishing Association. He writes from Green Valley, Arizona.

Editorial: “The Truth About the Bible”

Features editorial

There is a theory I’ve heard about the Bible. It is one I suspect is widely believed. 

The idea is that the Bible unfolds, easily and accessibly, a simple, pure, and complete truth, untouched by the cultures or experiences of the authors, and the culture and presuppositions of the reader. If one opens it with an honest heart, this theory goes, each person will readily understand the precise message God intends for us to know. 

That’s not true, of course. If it were, there wouldn’t be tens of thousands of competing Christian faiths, each claiming to be right. We wouldn’t be arguing about the meaning of texts, or expect Ellen White to tell us what they mean. 

In any act of communication there is a sender and a receiver, and the receiver contributes as much to the meaning as the sender. Every pastor will tell you of parishioners hearing things in the sermon that weren’t quite what he or she said. 

The Bible is a work of tremendous spiritual import. But each of us comes to it with a context and presuppositions. To some extent at least we find in it what our presuppositions and culture tell us to find. For example, a conclusion one could easily reach in studying the Old Testament is that all of us men should have multiple wives and, if we’re prosperous enough, some slaves too. But I’ve yet to hear a sermon that ends with that instruction, even though it is as clear in Scripture as some other anachronistic teachings that we do obey in perfect detail, such as the precise moment on Friday when Sabbath starts.

When we read the lives of the patriarchs and the kings, we sift that questionable part of their lifestyle out, because it doesn’t fit our modern morality. As we should. We’ve moved on, I hope, to a more equitable (dare I say “woke”?) understanding. We desire to treat women and people of other families and tribes with justice and kindness.

We’re not locked into Old Testament patterns. The Bible is, in that respect, an eminently flexible book. 

If we’re honest, we might even admit that some parts of the Bible offer unfortunate, and no doubt faulty, pictures of God. Aside from the life and teachings of Jesus, in much of the rest of the book God appears stern and angry, only reluctantly forgiving, and occasionally even cruel. Some readers try to justify every one of God’s unkindnesses in the Bible; wiser believers realize that just because those in the past saw God that way doesn’t mean they were right. 

I wonder: how many of us, if we started our Bible study right now without the Adventist context we were given, would end up with the same beliefs, the same religious culture, the same lifestyle, the same tools of spiritual discernment, that we employ now?

Loren Seibold
Executive Editor, Adventist Today magazine and website
21 September 2024

The Two Creation Stories of Genesis, Part 1: Elohim Does It All—in Just Six Quick Days

by Richard W. Coffen  |  27 August 2024  |  

It’s exegetical—that is, interpretive—malpractice to claim, as some Bible readers do, that Genesis 2 amplifies Genesis 1, as though it is a map inset. (See, for instance, Andrews Bible Commentary: Light Depth Truth, vol. 1, p. 144.) 

A close reading reveals something quite different. “Close reading,” by the way, is a semi-technical term used by biblical scholars to denote a particular kind of careful analysis.

This essay and its sequel will argue that the narrative of Genesis 1 is a freestanding account, independent of the storyline in Genesis 2.

Heads up

Caution 1—I write as an editor for 34 years. Had this part of Genesis been submitted to me for possible publication, I’d have returned it, urging the author to make up his mind. Which story does the author want to use?

Caution 2— I’m using “first” and “second” for the creation accounts, not because of chronological concerns, but because of the order each appears in our Bibles. Again, I am asserting that Genesis contains two separate creation stories—and for our purposes, precisely when each was written is of little relevance.

Caution 3—Both accounts were written millennia prior to the scientific revolution. They’re not refereed scientific reports, nor authored by experts who controlled for variables. Had divine inspiration spoken in the context of today’s scientific mindset, using 21st-century language, the stories would have been quite different—and probably unhelpful for the people back then.

Meet the creator

The creators in each narrative go by different names. In the first story, Elohim (a noun borrowed from the Canaanites) does the creating; in the second an Elohim named YHWH is the creator. Biblical scholars have proffered various speculations as to why a monotheistic culture appropriated their neighbors’ plural deity noun. 

In the first Hebrew creation story, the deity in charge of the creation project is Elohim. Elohim is plural; the singular is El. El was a Canaanite deity. After emigrating from Egypt and entering Canaan, the Hebrew people adopted the language spoken there (Isaiah 19:18). Their dialect is a variation on Canaanite—hence, Elohim or other variations of El. 

In Scripture there are 13 usages of El, sometimes as a description, such as El Shadai. 

El administered the Canaanite pantheon. He was the husband of Ashera and father of all other deities except Ba’al. Images of El show him either bearded or beardless. He was sometimes called “creator/possessor of heaven and earth.”

(Until the time of certain Greek writers, everyone believed in at least one deity. All were creationists. Aristophanes [c. 448 B.C. – 380 B.C.] may have been the first “atheist.” He wrote: “Shrines! Shrines! Surely you don’t believe in the gods? What’s your argument? Where’s your proof?” Some have described Anaximander [c. 610 B.C. – c. 546 B.C.] as the first evolutionist for his views on origins.)

The first Hebrew creation story

Some scholars say that Genesis 1 is poetry. Wordsmiths understand poetry to use symbolic language. “YHWH is my shepherd” shouldn’t be regarded as a tintype of YHWH, shepherd’s crook in one hand and sling in the other, but a word picture of YHWH’s personal care.

Hebrew poetry—A major earmark of Hebrew poetry is repetition of thought (synonymous parallelism), but using different terminology for each segment. For example: “Shew me thy ways, O YHWH/teach me thy paths” (Psalm 25:4). Each half reiterates the other, but with variations. 

Recurring elements in Genesis 1 include “God said . . .  and it was so,” and “There was evening and there was morning. . . .” These aren’t precise synonymous parallelisms but they come close. Most writing in Genesis 1 seems like prose as we read it, despite the above-mentioned repetition. We might use the word prosody to denote a literary type that blends prose and poetic elements.

Historical Setting and Literary Type—Assuming the primary audience was the Hebrew people, surely during their four centuries (Acts 7:6; 13:20; Galatians 3:17) of servitude in Egypt, they would have heard stories about Ptah, “creator of the universe,” who “sculpted humans from mud and clay.”

The Shabaka Stone (c. 722 B.C.) relates that Ptah created by using his “heart . . . and tongue.” That is, he created by speaking. According to the Memphite Creation myth, “Ptah was identified with the first bit of dry land to emerge from the endless depths of the waters.” 

And indeed, Genesis 1 opens with watery chaos.

“Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”

Read against that Egyptian background, Genesis 1 can be identified not only as prosody but also as argument—that is, polemic. “You think Ptah created by speaking? Our God did the same—but better!”

Unlike the multiple Egyptian creator deities, though, just one actor is the subject of the creation verbs in Genesis 1: Elohim. Distant, he enunciates, and something happens. He’s Coolidge-like-terse until he creates Homo sapiens.

Chronology—Timeline is important in the first Hebrew creation story. One can almost hear a metronome ticking. Sequence is essential. Elohim first creates ecosystems, then fills them with life forms. Finally Elohim abandons his work, resting on the final day of creation week, the Sabbath. 

You’ve heard people claim that God didn’t really rest because a deity doesn’t need rest. Besides, speaking things into existence can’t be exhausting! However, note what Exodus 31:17 says: “On the seventh day he rested, and was refreshed.” The Hebrew implies that he caught his breath while resting.

Divine Image—Humans are the only fauna that the first Hebrew creation story says Elohim made in “our image, after our likeness” (verse 26). Were we to take this expression as referring to general anatomical form, we might have to assume that chimpanzees, gorillas, orangutans, etc., likewise bear the imago dei (divine image). However, we can interpret this polemic as making a theological and psychological point. Appropriately, Ellen White (Education, p. 17) defines “divine image” as “the power to think and to do.”

The earliest commandments

In 1:28, Elohim speaks four commands, directing humans to be his agents. He orders that they 

• reproduce; 
• govern;
• replenish the earth; and 
• subdue it. 

As Elohim’s alter egos, they are to execute their office as Elohim would. Over what parts of the new creation must these agents exercise their conferred responsibility? 

• Fish; 
• birds and insects; 
• flying creatures; and 
• fauna that creep, crawl, and walk. 

Importantly, God does not authorize Homo sapiens to have dominion over their own species. Most of the verbs in the first Hebrew creation story describe divine activity. Only a few denote what other agencies will do. Humans are Elohim’s custodians in 1:26 . In 1:16 the astronomical bodies are given a governing function.

Ptah couldn’t create as effortlessly as Elohim. Ptah’s modus operandi included not only creation by fiat but also spitting and masturbating. 

Not so with the Elohim of Genesis! He’s so powerful that the mere energy of his voice becomes matter, contra-E=mc2. The process of creating proceeds with never a false move. Everything is “good” (verses 4,10,12,18,21,25) and “very good” (verse 31).

In the following essay, I’ll discuss the second Hebrew creation story, and show how it differs from the first. I’ll also take a look at the fall in chapter 3.

 The Two Creation Stories of Genesis, Part 2: YHWH Creates In His Own Unique Way

Commentary creation, genesis

by Richard W. Coffen  |  29 August 2024  |  

The first creation story has marks of a poetic structure. The literary genre of the second Hebrew creation story is narrative prose.

Like the first, it is an etiology—that is, an explanation of origins. But this isn’t the spare and structured account of Genesis one. This is a rather more elaborate story about firsts. 

Meet the (other) creator

The creator here is also an Elohim—a deity—but this one is specifically identified by the name YHWH. (YHWH is often written by the Jews without the vowels in order to preserve the sanctity of the name; Christians sometimes write it as Yahweh.) YHWH is a proper name that expands on Yah, an early Canaanite form of the Hebrew deity. The two words, Elohim and Yahweh, appear here together, which is why some Bibles translate them “Lord God.” 

In Egypt there was Iah, typically associated with the moon. While we can’t be sure there’s a relationship, vestiges of moon worship do appear in Hebrew religious practice. The new moon was celebrated as the beginning of each month (1 Samuel 20:5,18,24; Ezekiel 46:1,6). In the restored community, they’d again celebrate new moons (Isaiah 66:23).

Three different inscriptions from the ninth or eighth century have been found at Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, a remote Hebrew site. These inscriptions speak about YHWH and his Asherah. Asherah was a consort of El, which suggests someone thought that YHWH had a wife! Archaeologists have found similar inscriptions in Samaria, Jerusalem, Teman, and southern Judah. 

Does this sound too anthropomorphic? Yet YHWH often appears in the Old Testament in human terms. He repents—a lot! He descends to investigate. He engages in conversations. He changes his mind. And he commands some truly horrific massacres in his name.

Setting and action

This desert background is not the watery chaos of the first Hebrew creation story. It is a desert. Elohim YHWH addresses the aridity by creating several rivers (2:10-14). But unlike Genesis 1, there’s no rigid timetable here, no daily endeavor capstoned by a Sabbath to rest up.

According to this account, YHWH muddied and bloodied his hands while creating. Strong verbs are used here. Among his creation activities, YHWH,

• forms (2:7), 
• breathes (2:7), 
• plants (2:8), 
• places (2:8), 
• takes (2:15,21,22), 
• commands (2:16), 
• fashions (2:18), 
• brings (2:19,22), 
• causes (2:21), 
• closes up/sutures (2:21), 
• builds (2:22), 
• calls (3:9), 
• multiplies (3:10), 
• commands (3:17), 
• tailors (3:21), 
• sends (3:23), 
• aggressively expels (3:24), and 
• sets in place (3:24).

Elohim YHWH transforms part of the desert into an oasis—a garden—even planting fruit trees. Elohim YHWH molds or sculpts the male human. (Hebrew has the definite article for adam; this is not a proper name—see Genesis 5:2). Then he does the grimy work of potter (verse 7). Muddying his lips, he exhales into the lifeless form, which becomes a living being. Elohim YHWH transports this adam, dropping him into the previously planted oasis.

But wait—this isn’t good!

In the first creation story, the result of every creative act is “good” and ultimately “very good.” But surveying his handiwork in this story, Elohim YHWH exclaims “Not good!” (2:18). The newly-molded-now-conscious male human is solitary.

Elohim YHWH sets about to remedy the “not good” situation.  YHWH has apparently already created various female fauna (2:22) but not a female Homo sapiens (2:19).

Elohim YHWH leads each animal to the male human to be named (2:20). Some rabbis said that the human male tried to have sex with each female animal, but failed to find any satisfying; others just say that he found himself not attracted to any of them. Trial and error. 

So Elohim YHWH replicates the process used to form the first male. Here he surgically removes part of the male’s anatomy to form a mate for his adam. 

(The idea that men have one fewer rib than women is a myth. Barring genetic abnormalities, every person of both sexes has the same number of ribs.)

Because the usual Hebrew word rendered “rib” isn’t used here, a few scholars have proposed that this folksy etiology refers to YHWH’s construction of the woman from the man’s penis bone (baculum), which most mammals have but human males don’t. This theory is controversial. However, it provides an etiology for why human males don’t have a baculum, which most male mammals do.

In any case, Elohim YHWH “builds” (yes, that’s the verb!) a female human and leads her to the male human, who expresses his pent up frustration with an exasperated “finally!” (Hebrew, “at last” 2:23). Then, bursting into a Valentine’s Day jingle, the male human welcomes the female human. The humans remain as naked as campers in a nudist colony. Nevertheless, they’re “not ashamed” (2:25).

Sorry, John Milton: the narrative says nothing about robes of light.

The snake

Something strange happens at a tree whose fruit Elohim YHWH had told the male human (the female human didn’t yet exist when this command was given) was forbidden (2:17): the woman engages in a conversation with a talking reptile! 

The text specifies a snake which, as far as we know, was constructed by Elohim YHWH. Straight from the Lord God’s hands, it has the brain capacity to be more cunning than any other living creature (3:1). 

There’s no indication here that Elohim YHWH made this creature with an evil nature. Most of the time when the Hebrew word for crafty (arum) appears in Scripture, it’s a positive trait, meaning wise or prudent. Here, apparently, a good characteristic turns evil. (Irenaeus opined that the devil couldn’t create anything good but could twist something good into evil.) In any case, the snake has the mental and anatomical mechanisms necessary for speech. Though we have always assumed it, there is no mention in this passage that the snake is a ventriloquist’s dummy for Satan.

Nowhere does the text indicate this serpent is entwined in the tree. Nor is there any indication that it can fly or climb. Later, Elohim YHWH modifies its locomotion to slithering (3:14), but the text doesn’t say what its original mode of locomotion was. Nor does it say that the sharp-witted snake has eaten some of the fruit, which produced his ability to talk. Although the serpent isn’t said to be more intelligent than the first humans, it can communicate with the woman—point and counterpoint (3:1ff).

The story doesn’t say how the woman ends up with a piece of the taboo fruit. It doesn’t say say that the talkative snake picks fruit and hands it to her. In any case, she suffers no ill effects from handling, which apparently was not taboo. It only says that she sees the fruits desirability and eats some.

The story doesn’t specify the type of fruit; the word is simply peri which means fruit. Scholars have suggested various species, notably the quince, Some old pictures appear to show it as a mushroom which, of course, excites modern psilocybin fans.

Notice that the woman doesn’t remain alone while talking with the serpent. The man is there “with her” (3:6). The chatty woman carries on the conversation and hands some of the prohibited fruit to the adam, as he is apparently standing by her, mute.

Here comes the Lord God!

Elohim YHWH arrives, calling for the man (verses 8-9). This is the first of his recons in Genesis (See also 11:5; 18:21; cf. 46:4.) The couple are hiding among the trees. Ziony Zevit suggests that the two hid among the foliage (which, interestingly, has long been an artist’s trick to show the pair naked without the viewers seeing them naked.)

Elohim YHWH begins interrogating them. The male blames both his wife and Elohim YHWH (3:12). Under cross examination, she accuses the snake (verse 13). The previously talkative reptile now remains speechless (3:14).

A view that you’ll read from time to time is that eating the forbidden fruit was a metaphor for their discovering sex. It has been said that the snake is a phallic symbol, fruit is a symbol of fertility, and this explains why they suddenly become ashamed of their nakedness. Later in this second story reproduction almost seems like a punishment for sin (3:16) rather than the opportunity it is in the first story.

From animal pelts YHWH tailors clothing for the naked couple (3:21). The narrative doesn’t specify the source of the pelts, but it implies that some creature had to die.

The second Hebrew creation story doesn’t mention any initial imago dei either. The image of God becomes an issue after the Fall. The couple are now all-wise (omniscient) like YHWH (3:22). “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” Imago dei, it might be inferred, can be an evil state in that situation.

Emphasis isn’t on what vanished (à la Milton) but on what was added: ecological irrigation, secure sanctuary, flourishing flora, prolific produce, fecund fauna, merry marriage, tailormade togs, exhausting manual labor for the male, painful labor while birthing for the female, ominous omniscience, and impending immortality.

Eviction

The grammar of the narrative specifies gender. Elohim YHWH addresses each person separately, the storyline distinguishing between genders (verses 9 & 11 [masculine], verses 12,13 [feminine]). 

Yet the story says that after this event, Elohim YHWH expels the male (verse 23). The verb is singular masculine, using the male form to denote who YHWH ejects. When the male human resists, Elohim YHWH “drives” (Hebrew: expel with force) him (masculine) out (verse 24) and stations armed guards (Hebrew plural cherubim) to secure the entrance to the oasis (verse 24) from intruders.

Scripture says nothing about the female’s expulsion. She appears later, postpartum. Assuming her newborn son is the promised deliverer, she names him “A boy, YHWH” (4:1, adapted from Rotherham Bible).

A different story

In the first essay I asserted that there are two separate stories here. There are significant differences between the Genesis 1 story and that told in chapters 2 and 3. 

First, each is set against a different backdrop. Genesis 1 is a water world “without form and void,” while Genesis 2 is a desert world, where “no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant.” 

Second, the creator is different. The Elohim is now Elohim YHWH—“Lord” becomes “Lord God.” Both names have roots in the names of local pagan deities, but the latter is to become more specific to Israel.

Third, event order varies. The Sabbath—in fact, the entire timeline—is absent in the second narrative. While the first is an ordered database of days and creations, in the second God first makes a garden in the desert. At unspecified times, he adds rivers, then creates the male adam, then all the animals, and finally a helper for the male.

Fourth, the creator’s modus operandi differs. The verbiage, all describing the activity of the creator, is more specific and personal in the second: a list of earth’s “firsts.”

To summarize: the story we’re told in Sabbath School is a result of the merging of the two stories as if Genesis 1-3 are all the same story. This combined story ignores the conflicts between the first and second tellings. 

A lesson? A careful reading shows that what’s happening in these two stories isn’t a scientific description of creation, but two separate theological lessons about the meaning of our origins.

Richard W. Coffen is a retired vice president of editorial services at Review and Herald Publishing Association. He writes from Green Valley, Arizona.

Does Adventist Flood Geology Make Sense? Part 1: The Too-Small Ark

COMMENTARY FLOOD, GEOLOGY, NOAH'S ARK

by Rich Hannon | 18 July 2024 |

Adventist Fundamental Belief #6 states categorically that the earth is young, ~6-10K years old. In 2015, the words “recent,” literal,” and “historical” were added to this statement. Although the Bible doesn’t mandate such descriptors, this position has historically been accepted by Christians. For Adventists, it is explicitly affirmed by Ellen White. So there would be no reason to doubt creation being recent, unless and until conflicting evidence might somehow justify reconsideration.

The church’s viewpoint essentially accepts the broader concept of Young Earth Creationism (YEC), which includes the belief that the entire planet was devastated by the Noachian Flood. This catastrophe produced most of the geologic and paleontological results seen today. 

But the physical evidence uncovered by geology slowly began to put that narrative in doubt, with the current scientific understanding affirming an old earth (~ 4.54 billion years) and—for different reasons—evolution.

YEC has tried to refute this with articles that have a scientific veneer. They confidently tell the reader they have a viable case. But if anyone truly wants to get the full story, they should research the issues more thoroughly to see if YEC conclusions can stand up under examination. 

And they can’t. The evidence that underpins conventional geology and paleontology is massive. 

When I write such a strong categorical statement, I challenge readers to test it for themselves. And a YEC-leaning Christian—which includes the great majority of Adventists—should not think they’ve been fairly investigating if they only read from young-earth sources.

Tradition 

It’s important to note just why YEC seems crucial to so many Christians. It is rooted in both theological positions and a human tendency to favor currently held belief. The theological component is the stronger driver and involves two parts, at minimum: 

• A literal approach to reading the Bible

It would seem to be a “plain reading” that the days of creation are literally 24 hours long. And, for Adventists, there is also a fear that the Sabbath doctrine would fall if we do not hold fast to this position. Then, in describing the flood’s scope, the English word used is “earth.” For moderns, this would seem to reference the entire planet. It takes further deliberation (e.g., reading a book like God, Sky, and Land) to reconsider this. But such time-consuming investigation and revisionism risk can be both daunting and disturbing. 

• No creaturely death before sin

This proposition necessitates that fossils, which obviously record death, must have been deposited after the fall in Eden. So, if the earth is ~6000 years old, and a possible flood date, per Ussher, is ~2350 BCE, then all fossils were deposited very recently, mostly during this year-long deluge. 

In the YEC book Scientific Creationism (pp. 117-118) we read:

“… great hydraulic cataclysm bursting upon the present world, with currents of waters pouring perpetually from the skies and erupting continuously from the earth’s crust, all over the world, for weeks on end, until the entire globe was submerged, accompanied by outpourings of magma from the mantle, gigantic earth movements, landslides, tsunamis, and explosions.”

This kind of scope/intensity is practically essential to create most of the geologic column in just one year. But, in reading the actual Genesis account you are not compelled to envision anything this catastrophic. Such a description is motivated by presumed religious necessity. 

Necessities for YEC

There is nothing wrong in making the literal Genesis account your hypothesis—but the constraints on the hypothesis impose a heavy lift. Can such a model hold up under scrutiny? I will consider three examples—one today, and two in the second part of the essay—of difficulties that YEC has to overcome to ground its hypothesis. 

The first constraint: A too-small ark

To repopulate the whole world, nearly from scratch, everything must be contained and maintained in one vessel.

A reasonable estimate of the Ark’s size is: 450x75x45 feet. If that seems large, remember it must hold everything needed to repopulate the entire planet. The longest modern wooden ship is ~300 ft. long, before physical constraints make any design unstable. So, the issue of seaworthiness arises, especially when considering the postulated turbulence of the flood. 

But Noah could have had a luxury liner and the task would still be overwhelming. It’s all life on the whole planet! And you can’t use full capacity for the animals: you need pens, corridors, bracing, human living quarters and, most importantly, space for food and water. This could cut the room available for creature cargo in half. Many animals have specialized diets—think pandas. So there is also a problem of, not just storage, but how all this food would get collected, and some of it preserved for up to a year. 

Consider the number of specimens to be accommodated. YEC uses the word “kind” to try to shrink the total by claiming just one representative of a species would be needed—for example, just one “dog kind” would then, post-flood, branch out dramatically to produce the disparate types of dogs we see today. But the rate of evolution needed for such a diversity explosion would greatly exceed any observed evidence—indeed any postulated rate of evolution per conventional science. Quite ironic.

Even if such a premise were admitted, the quantity of ark animals is still daunting. The story mandates “two of all living creatures” (Gen. 6:19), “every kind of creature that moves along the ground” (v. 20), “every kind of food that is to be eaten” (v. 21). Genesis 7:3 specifies “seven pairs of every kind … throughout the earth.” So, if you make “earth” equate to “planet” (per YEC necessity), then consider today’s creature diversity, it overwhelms the available space. 

But wait. You haven’t yet added in extinct creatures. Collapsing time into ~6-10K years disallows the conventionally understood dispersion of almost all life into deep time. It then becomes necessary to add far more candidates into that ark than are considered by YEC. Per paleontological evidence, the vast majority of fauna that has ever lived is now extinct. But in a short chronology, they would be alive and must be accounted for. So dinosaurs, for example, would have to be aboard or their absence explained away. 

As with the entire insect class. A complete collection of insect candidates (even ignoring extinction) is huge, and they are crucial for the food chain. YEC tries to evade this by saying they do not “breathe,” and thus wouldn’t be aboard. But insects have to get through the flood somehow—they could hardly survive it otherwise, even on the YEC-proposed vegetation mats. Remember the degree of violence postulated as necessary to generate the bulk of the geologic column—something I’ll consider later.

Then there is the manpower problem. One YEC estimate of representative “kinds” has reduced the creature total to ~15,700—and much argumentative gymnastics is needed to get the figure down this low. But, even if this were the number, and they all could fit, you only have a crew of eight. And you have to get the entire menagerie loaded in a week. That’s 7x24x60x60 = 604,800 seconds. 

Noah and family can’t work continuously. There are interruptions for food and sleep, plus any other physical, social, and spiritual diversions from the task. That might remove 1/3 of the available time, leaving 604,800/3×2 = 403,200 seconds left. This is less than 26 seconds/animal for boarding, which also would include each one being properly placed in its enclosure.

Of course, this limited manpower also has to care for all the creatures for an entire year. Getting them the right food and water from storage, keeping every specimen alive, removing waste, etc. So, there are: 365x24x60 = 525,600 minutes in a year. Again, remove 1/3 of the total for non-work activity. You do the math to see how much remaining time—per animal, for the year—would be available. It’s not reasonable.

Finally, post-flood, you cannot just let this tiny collection of unique types disperse. How would the pairs all stay together to guarantee adequate reproduction for repopulating an entire planet? And where would the post-flood food be, given the presumed massive destruction? Carnivores would immediately want to eat some animals that have to survive, else their species dies. Success would kill the prey. Failure would kill the predator.

In part 2, we’ll ask this question: how much of what we observe in the earth’s geologic column could be accounted for by the flood?

(To see Part 2 go to atoday.org )

Rich Hannon is a retired software engineer. His long-standing avocations include philosophy, geology, and medieval history.

The Real End of the World

COMMENTARY

by Lindsey Abston Painter  |  9 July 2024  |   

It’s pretty common in Adventist churches to hear about the world ending. Preachers or evangelists talk about things that they think are going to snowball into an end-time crisis. Their examples usually have to do with big conspiracies focused on Seventh-day Adventists and our beliefs.

But there’s better and more immediate evidence that the world could be ending soon. God doesn’t need to do it: we’re doing just fine destroying it ourselves. 

Climate change.

NASA warns that the effects of climate change are here, and will only become worse in the future. The article says, 

“Some changes (such as droughts, wildfires, and extreme rainfall) are happening faster than scientists previously assessed. In fact, according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) — the United Nations body established to assess the science related to climate change — modern humans have never before seen the observed changes in our global climate, and some of these changes are irreversible over the next hundreds to thousands of years.”

We need to find some way to overcome the bias in our brains that tells us to ignore the threat this poses to us. And that includes those of us in the church. 

One of God’s first commands to humanity, in Genesis 1:26-30, was to take care of the earth. Let’s take a look at the things God told us to take care of. 

Fish 

And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea…

Assuming this passage means all fish, as well as all ocean, lake, and river wildlife, climate change has already drastically affected all things living in the waters of this world. In some cases, warming waters lead to a significant decline in wildlife species that live in the deeper, colder parts of bodies of water. In shallower water, whole regions of coral reefs are dying. The decline of these species affects the ecological balance, which can lead to a decline in all the species, or an overpopulation of a species that is usually prey to fish in decline. 

In other cases, fish and plant life are being found in places they don’t usually reside. In the five American Great Lakes, for example, non-native and invasive species such as the alewife and zebra mussels have caused major disruptions to the native fish populations. In the local lake close to my house there are periodic warnings every few years against swimming or even going into the water because of an overpopulation of algae. This has been going on for years, a result of the slow warming of the waters in the lake. 

Birds 

And let them have dominion over … the birds of the heavens…

Birds have already been so heavily impacted by climate change that the Audubon Society has a website dedicated to documenting the effects. You can search in your county or by bird to see how birds near you are affected. Already, hundreds of species of birds have been forced to relocate to more favorable areas, and many of them are not surviving the change. Nearly 150 species are already on the brink of extinction. 

Livestock

And let them have dominion over … the livestock…

The National Library of Medicine sums up the impact of climate change: 

“There is strong evidence that there will be impacts throughout the supply chain, from farm production to processing operations, storage, transport, retailing and human consumption. The risks of climate-related impacts are highly context-specific but expected to be higher in environments that are already hot and have limited socio-economic and institutional resources for adaptation.” 

In other words, with the worldwide food supply chain’s probable disruption we can expect famine and starvation in the near future, especially in areas of the world that are hot and poor. 

Not an especially bright future for any of us who like food. 

Bugs

And let them have dominion over … every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.

NASA warns us that an estimated 65% of the world’s insect population might become extinct in the next few years. If you’re like me (not a big insect fan), you might not initially feel too ruffled about that. 

But the problem looks a lot more dire when we realize that insects are an enormous part of the world’s food chain. The NASA website also notes, 

“Insects perform many important roles in Earth’s ecosystems. They assist with the production of fruits, vegetables, and flowers through pollination. They decompose organic matter. They even help control harmful pests.”

Plants

Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed….

The Environmental Protection Agency warns that the agriculture industry has already faced many serious difficulties as a result of climate change, with more to come. Decreases in productivity, and changes in the seasons when things can grow, make it difficult for farmers to know when to plant and how long they can expect to cultivate their crops. Not to mention the changes in water availability mean drought for some and flooding for others which kills crops and erodes nutrients from the soil. 

More and more pesticides are required to control invasive insect species, which leads to the death of more helpful insects, like bees—and isn’t great for human consumption either, not to mention the health risks to the farmers themselves who are exposed to pesticides. 

Fruit trees

Behold, I have given you … every tree with seed in its fruit. 

A science journal dealing with frontiers in plant science warns that fruit trees are threatened by climate change. Warmer temperatures are causing trees to flower erratically, sometimes too soon, only for their delicate flowers to be damaged by frost. Fruiting trees are designed to lie dormant during the cold season. Trees that are budding earlier than usual, or budding erratically, are more vulnerable, leading to what the journal calls “reduced tree vigor,” as well as “bud break disorder.” I’m not a plant scientist, but that doesn’t sound good for the future of fruit. 

Our first—failed—responsibility

It appears that the first responsibility God gave us, we appear to have failed. 

Christians spend an awful lot of time talking about upholding God’s expectations, usually when it comes to people’s sex lives or sexual organs. The ironic thing is that God had relatively little to say about people’s sex lives or sexual organs. But God had an awful lot to say about taking care of the vulnerable, and almost as much about caretaking the earth. 

Unfortunately, I have no idea what to do about climate change. And that’s part of the problem. Very few people actually have any constructive ideas about what to do about it. There aren’t easy answers. There’s no single villain to unite us against. Our perspective on climate change depends on our personal biases. 

The Guardian says that 80% of greenhouse gas emissions are linked to just 57 companies. So while I’m not a scientist, I’d propose we start by asking that world governments regulate those 57 companies to reduce or eliminate emissions. 

What I do know is that continuing to ignore the imminent cessation of all human, animal, and plant life on planet Earth is something we should all be paying more attention to. That means we need to talk about it. We need to think about it. We need to write about it. We need to pressure powerful people to do something about it. And as a faith community we should be using our influence to make change. 

If Adventists won’t listen to the scientists, and won’t listen to Genesis, perhaps they’d hear the word of John the Revelator?

“Do not harm the land or the sea or the trees until we put a seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God” (Revelation 7:3).

Yes, earth-care is part of the prophetic message. The seal, however you describe it, hasn’t been placed yet, and we are ordered to care for the earth while we wait. 

I wish that would become a major part of the Seventh-day Adventist message.

Lindsey Abston Painter is an adjunct editor of Adventist Today.

There’s a reason it’s called Adventist Today.

Most Adventists understand that we no longer live in the nineteenth or twentieth centuries. The fact that we live in the twenty-first century makes it absolutely essential that we plant ourselves firmly in the present and accept today’s realities.

Yes, we once had a prophetic voice. We embraced social causes such as abolition, temperance, church/state separation, education, healthcare. Sometimes we stood alone; sometimes we were ahead of our time (Sabbath rest, addictions, and plant-based diets). But in these and many other issues we are no longer unique.

In fact, the thing some Adventists are most proud of—our interpretation of prophecy—is laughably outdated. While evangelists still rant against the Papacy, apostate Protestantism and Sunday worship, a more dangerous and insidious threat infects society. Ironically, the threat is still religious in nature, motivated by those intent on forcing their beliefs on everyone else.

We used to naively believe that our Bibles would be taken from us. Now books in schools and libraries are being banned. Religious zealots are taking over school boards, county councils, state legislatures, and courts. Bent on imposing their religious and moral values on the rest of us, some states are mandating that the Bible be taught and the Ten Commandments be posted in public schools.

People who don’t understand that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof” can’t be expected to understand that freedom of religion means freedom for all religions, even freedom from religion. They can’t be expected to understand that coercion is coercion, and that it’s all the more dangerous when motivated by “good intentions.”

That’s why we call it Adventist Today. As we face new challenges, your support and sharing of Adventist Today is essential in reaching a contemporary society with the eternal gospel.

Stephen Chavez
Adjunct Editor, Adventist Today
6 July 2024

The Wrong Way to Preach the Gospel

COMMENTARY EVANGELISM, THE GREAT CONTROVERSY

by Loren Seibold  |  28 June 2024  |  

Adventists (they weren’t Seventh-day Adventists yet) had a pretty good idea back in the 1830s and 1840s. They believed Jesus was returning, and they wanted to be ready for him. 

They were wrong—but they were sincerely and innocently wrong. And righteously wrong: they wanted Jesus to come to set things right on earth. And if they had some controversial ideas about precisely what “setting things right” meant, well, who doesn’t? At least they recognized that they’d had a wonderful spiritual experience during their waiting time, and they wanted to prolong it. 

The evolution to what we are today happened gradually. It began with adding more beliefs. The second coming evolved from God’s initiative to save his people, to being conditional upon a certain set of people believing certain things and acting a certain way. The investigative judgment was followed by the contemporary prophetic gift, then the Sabbath, then the demonization of Roman Catholicism, then the state of the dead, and finally health reform. 

When all the new requirements were added we became, in a way, the controllers of God’s decision for when Jesus should return. If we could believe and do all the right things, Jesus would have to come back!

Ultimate authority

All these threads somehow knotted together in the notion that it wasn’t the Roman Catholics who were the true church, but us. This was said explicitly in Ellen White’s (arguably misunderstood) statements that the General Conference (GC), not the Vatican, is God’s highest authority on earth.

The original statements said “the General Conference in session,” but the latter words are often omitted. I have heard a GC official refer to votes of the GC Executive Committee meetings of all the world’s union and division presidents as also the highest authority of God on earth, while implying strongly that the recommendations brought from the Administration Committee partake of this “highest authority” as well.

Power leads to arrogance. And arrogance is kryptonite to good decision-making. 

Thus, one of the worst ideas that may ever have emerged from 12501 Old Columbia Pike under Elder Ted Wilson. He announced back in 2021, and has renewed his call since, that he is spearheading a move for the church to distribute a billion full-sized copies of The Great Controversy.

Without results

You are aware, of course, that this has already begun—though not to the ambitious extent Elder Wilson has outlined. Over the past two decades Remnant Publications has mailed millions of The Great Controversys, unasked for, to homes across the United States. 

It worked, in a way: it started conversations. Newspaper articles were written. Blogs opined about it. Online discussion forums were abuzz. 

Engaging thoughtfully about the evils of Roman Catholicism, or about Sunday laws or even religious liberty? Hardly. The vast majority were annoyed that their apartment lobbies and recycle bins were filled with not just junk mail, but heavy, ponderously written anti-Catholic junk mail.

Nothing cements Seventh-day Adventism’s reputation as a cult like an unreadable anti-Catholic tome stuck in millions of mailboxes.

What’s the evidence that sending out even a million The Great Controversys has won a soul? Um, let’s check. There must be stories out there, wouldn’t you think? Pastors, what have you heard? Chicago? San Francisco? Charlotte? Some complete stranger who picked the book up and read through it and showed up at church because they realized that the Seventh-day Adventist Church had the truth? 

Still searching. Nada. Nothing. Show me even one instance!

So why are we doing it? Let me tell you the three things that drive these initiatives. First:

Ellen White said it 

Yup. She did. And every word she wrote or said is a pearl of Divine wisdom that, even if taken completely out of context, will be followed by someone.

We are often reminded that Ellen White said that our publications should be distributed “like the leaves of autumn” (Publishing Ministry, 361). Would it surprise you to know that she also said just the opposite?

These tracts should not at present be scattered promiscuously like the autumn leaves, but should be judiciously and freely handed to those who would be likely to prize them.—Testimonies for the Church 1:551, 552 (emphasis mine).

Send them “to those who would be likely to prize them.” In other words, don’t witness in such a way as to waste money and time and goodwill, and irritate the heck out of people. 

C’mon, be honest. What do you think when the Jehovah’s Witnesses leave a pulpy booklet at your door? Do you read it? Do you call them up for more information? No? Why not? Because it’s a terrible way to reach people. 

Far from being an effective tool for witness, filling people’s lobbies and mailboxes with anti-Catholic books is a vaccination against ever having any respect for Seventh-day Adventists! 

Ellen White again: 

But in regard to this line of work I am instructed to say to our people: Be guarded. In bearing the message make no personal thrusts at other churches…. Let us be careful of our words. Reflecting Christ, 240 (emphasis mine).

So again, why do we do it? Here’s a second oft-used but usually unacknowledged reason.

The “no excuse” principle

The “no excuse” principle is rarely articulated. But it has justified many initiatives in Adventist evangelism. It starts with the belief that Matthew 24:14 is a causal statement: 

“This gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations and then [that is, as a result of your success in preaching the gospel to all nations] the end will come.”

Please note: as interpreted, this doesn’t mean anyone has to accept it. We only have to preach it, and they only have to have heard it. That book handed to them is their opportunity—and once you give them the opportunity, you have removed their excuse!

Church members sometimes think that the purpose of evangelism is to build up churches. That’s only partially true. Lurking behind our aggressive evangelistic program is the notion that once people have received the brochure or the book, even if they throw it away, they’ve been warned, and they no longer have an excuse in the judgment. After all, “narrow is the gate and few there be that find it.”

You will recognize that this very much continues the conditional vein of Adventist understanding. This is something God wants us to do so Jesus can return. Do you see how much quicker it is to force Jesus to return this way, than actually building up churches of people who accept Jesus and become part of a Christian community?

Follow the money

The third reason is that it inspires big donors, and brings in money. 

Selling books has roots in our church history. Ellen White pushed her books to be sold because she believed they had God’s truth in them. But there was also money made by selling books—including for James and Ellen. 

One source said that The Great Controversy as printed by Remnant Publications lands in people’s mailboxes for a dollar a pop. (That’s probably going to be hard to confirm but there it is, for what it’s worth.) Can Elder Wilson raise a billion additional dollars? 

I wouldn’t be surprised. I doubt he would raise a billion extra dollars for Adventist colleges. I don’t think he could raise it for ADRA, or the support of ministers and schoolteachers. But The Great Controversy is so central to Adventist identity the money might be there. There will be elderly Adventist people who will sign over their whole estates. Some will put off paying the electricity bill in order to send more money for a few more The Great Controversys for recipients to discard. Some of the richest people in the church will dump in millions.

It’s a simple, easy way to feel like you’re a soul-winner, and you never need to leave your chair in front of the television set tuned to 3ABN! We Adventists call this “seed sowing.” And since seed-sowing and excuse-elimination (see above) don’t require cost-effectiveness studies, it’ll keep going even without any verifiable success.

And we’ll continue to see stories on the internet and in the press about what a bunch of weird people those Seventh-day Adventists must be. 

Bad evangelism

To be fair, The Great Controversy made more sense a century ago. It was a time of rampant anti-Catholicism, and we were just one more voice in the “we blame Catholics” chorus. But even then, our tale of conspiratorial cardinals doing away with Saturday worship wasn’t a majority view, or everyone would have become a Seventh-day Adventist. 

But it is not a soul-winning book for today. It is not contemporary. It is far too long. It presents theories about opposition to Sabbath-keeping that have shown no evidence of happening. It is anti-Catholic. Jesus’ return, which was rightly called “the blessed hope” by our pioneers, is in this book set in a frame of such suffering and opposition that it sounds more like “the terrible dread.” 

Ask yourself: would you be won to Christ by this book? 

Responsible stewardship

A friend put his pulp copy of a full-sized The Great Controversy on a postal scale and came up with a weight of 13 ounces. Not that heavy, right? But multiply that by a billion, and that’s about 400,000 tons of paper. At the general measure of 24 trees per ton, that’s 9,600,000 trees we’d be consuming—with no proof that it produces results!

Would this be a good time to remind everyone of Revelation 7:3? 

Do not harm the land or the sea or the trees until we put a seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.

I think I’m being optimistic when I calculate that 1% will be kept and 99% of them will go into the trash—some recycled, many simply clogging landfills. And all this while The Great Controversy is available online, in many languages!

True story: when one commenter said that The Great Controversy is already online, another responded that a paper book is so much better. “Think of all the people who are homeless, living under an underpass, who don’t have a computer or a phone. They can have their marked copy of The Great Controversy with them at all times, independent of the internet!”

That even one of us sincerely believes that what a person living under a bridge needs is a copy of The Great Controversy should be a concern to us. 

Couldn’t this money be better spent to help the poor? Yes, I know I’m quoting Judas Iscariot. But we’re not talking about anointing our Savior, only about cold-mailing a book for which there is none but anecdotal evidence of efficacy. The only argument for doing it is a single statement by Ellen White, which she then contradicts. 

How would a billion dollars be received to buy medicines or vaccines for the world’s poorest nations? Or given to ADRA to help the people of Gaza or Haiti? 

Cost-benefit analysis

I have heard people say, “If one person is won by this, it will have been worth it.” 

But is this a wise way to make decisions? Yes, one soul is valuable, but what if you could use a better method and win 100? 1,000? 10,000? 100,000? I ask again: where is the evidence that sending out millions of unasked-for books has won even one person to our church? 

People, we can do better. Yes, Adventist-laymen’s Services & Industries (ASI) generously gives for evangelism. But ASI’s money is not the best way to decide the church’s outreach methodologies. I beg Elder Wilson to turn to the younger leaders in the North American Division and elsewhere, and seek from them ways of moving the church’s outreach forward without consuming ten million trees. 

Loren Seibold is the Executive Editor of Adventist Today.

James W. Walters is professor emeritus of ethics at Loma Linda University.

Editorial: Finish the Work? No, Just Do the Work!

FEATURES EDITORIAL

All my life I’ve heard this phrase: “Finish the work, so Jesus can come!” 

I confess, I find it problematic.

The Gospel Commission, you’ll recall, is “Preach the good news everywhere!” But what is the good news? Is it lecturing people about a bunch of doctrinal abstractions, and then recording their names on the church books? 

Jesus did some teaching, but it wasn’t especially doctrinal. It was about living a righteous life and godly behavior. 

Mostly, he did good things for people. He didn’t, as far as I know, keep a list of members. 

Furthermore, Jesus didn’t say “Preach the Seventh-day Adventist church doctrines.” He said, “Preach the good news.” That’s a pretty simple message: Jesus loves you, and wants to you to live with him for eternity. 

Do you think that’s a work you and I can finish? I don’t. Which is why I opt for a different formulation: “Do the work!” 

“The work” is helping people. Making people happier. Making their lives better. Bringing them “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Romans 14:17).

Adventist congregations, I regret to say, aren’t especially good at that. Some of us are so busy checking out one another’s dinner plates and earlobes that we have little time for helping people. 

No, I’m pretty sure it’s not up to us to finish the work. That’s God’s job. Once we start just doing the work of telling people how much Jesus loves all of us, and showing them by our actions, we might see something significant happen.

But until we quit trying to finish a work we apparently don’t know how to do, we’re wasting our time.

Loren Seibold
Executive Editor, Adventist Today
29 June 2024

Editorial: Why Johnny Couldn’t Be Baptized

FEATURES EDITORIAL

Pearl was close to 70 when I was her pastor. It would be hard for you to imagine just how primitive Pearl’s life was, especially given the harsh Dakota climate we lived in. Her house was a leaky little shack, far out in the hills. I don’t know what she lived on—probably some small Social Security, or rent for her single field of farmland. I suspect she got most of her food from her garden, a few chickens, and livestock. I don’t remember her ever complaining, though—she was a cheerful person. And very, very convinced of the truth of the Seventh-day Adventist Church.

Pearl raised her 12-year-old mentally handicapped grandson, Johnny, whose mom had dumped him on her elderly mother so she could pursue her own life. Johnny could feed himself and use the bathroom, but it was hard to know how much of anything else he understood. He sat in the cradle roll Sabbath School, where he would try to sing, and take the items handed to him like any toddler would. He seemed to enjoy it.

Once, after we’d had a baptism of some children in church, Pearl said to me, “Johnny would like to be baptized. But of course, he can’t be, because he could never understand the lessons.” I told her I would baptize Johnny—that I believed God understood Johnny’s limitations—but she would have none of it. She was sure that to be baptized, you had to know things and be able to explain things. I suspect, though I never asked her directly, that she believed Johnny wouldn’t be saved because he couldn’t understand doctrines and be baptized.

There’s a lesson here, but it isn’t an easy one. Because Pearl was right: church as we usually do it is about knowing things and explaining things. A pastor’s education is mostly becoming knowledgeable about God. Worship is the pastor standing up and explaining things about God. 

But is that all there is to faith? Can the blessings of baptism, for example, come to someone who can’t understand the doctrines? Is there room in church for Johnny? 

We’ve probably made it all too complicated. I wouldn’t want to spend eternity with a God who wouldn’t save Johnny—whether or not Johnny was ever baptized.

Thank you for reading and supporting Adventist Today.

Loren Seibold
Adventist Today Executive Editor
8 June 2024

Editorial: God Doesn’t Need Your Protection

FEATURES EDITORIAL

Sometimes people ask me what it was that made me begin to question the fundamentalist faith of my childhood. I’ve thought about that question a lot. And the truth is that there’s not one clear or concise answer I can give. There were a lot of things over the years that began to build up slowly until an avalanche of questions broke the dam I had built around them.

I had a college friend that came out as gay and was immediately rejected by everyone around him. The 2015 GC vote not to ordain women affected me strongly. Reading the story of Job as an adult and realizing that it’s either a parable, or God has less empathy and respect for life than I do. These are just a few instances that puzzled me.

But the thing that kept haunting me again and again until I couldn’t silence it was my intuitive understanding that anything we can call truth has to be able to hold up to scrutiny. Or, to say the inverse, anything we aren’t allowed to question can’t hold up as truth.

Things that are true can withstand questions. Truth doesn’t need to be protected by sheltering it from investigation. That is the basis of science. I don’t believe science and faith need to be opposed to one another: they can work in harmony. And I think whatever God is, God doesn’t need me or anyone else to protect God from questions.

So ask questions. God can handle it.

Lindsey Abston Painter
Adventist Today Writer and Editor
25 May 2024

Am I a Better Parent than God?”

The first day of my oldest child’s life I snuggled her in my hospital bed and began to tell her Bible stories. I started with Noah’s Ark—but stopped because the story begins with the death of everyone in the world except Noah’s family. I moved to David and Goliath but stopped because it’s about a fight to the death.

I tried Moses, Samson, Abraham, but I realized every story I tried to tell had some kind of element in it that isn’t really appropriate for children.

And that was the beginning of how having children influenced my view of God.

As my children aged, they had behaviors I didn’t like. But the older they got, and the more I got to know them, the more I realized that their behaviors are a reflection of something they need support with, not something they needed to be punished for.

I stopped treating my children in a purely authoritarian way, and began seeing us in a relationship with me, a person with more experience in this world, teaching and modeling for them how to get along. I’m not an authority over them, so much as a guide, helping them understand how to navigate this complicated world.

It also completely changed my view of God. The God I had been taught most of my young life was said to be loving, but was very authoritative—mysterious and baffling, and to be obeyed no matter the cost, often without any explanation.

But I don’t expect unquestioning obedience from my children. Why would I teach my children to follow authority without question? That’s the exact opposite of the critical thinking I hope they are learning to do. I don’t do things that hurt them and then say “Parents work in mysterious ways” as an explanation. If I treated my children the way I had been taught God treats his children, I would not be a very good parent.

I realize that my understanding of God was flawed: there’s no way I’m a better parent than God. God is good, kind, and understanding. And that’s the kind of parent I try to be, too.

Lindsey Abston Painter
Editor and Writer, Adventist Today

An Introvert in a Happy Church World

COMMENTARY CHURCH, EXTROVERT, INTROVERT

by Rich Hannon  |  7 May 2024  |

I am a “card-carrying” introvert. But because I’m not a stereotype, I don’t check all the possible characteristic boxes. For example, although I’m a layman, I’ve preached many sermons in my adult life. I trained as a teacher and feel comfortable up front, speaking extemporaneously. Introverts aren’t necessarily shy.

However, our church services and surrounding culture aren’t very sensitive toward introverts. I’ve vaguely known this forever, but perhaps a decade ago I read an excellent book by Susan Cain, titled: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. 

In a short section of the book (pp. 64-70), under the heading “Does God Love Introverts? An Evangelical’s Dilemma,” she describes a 2006 visit to Rick Warren’s mega-church, Saddleback, accompanied by a self-identified introvert and evangelical pastor named Adam McHugh. He later wrote a book titled: Introverts in the Church: Finding Our Place in an Extroverted Culture.

As Cain and McHugh talked during their visit, he told her (p. 66) of his belief that the evangelical church has a presupposition of extroversion-as-orthodoxy:

“The evangelical culture ties together faithfulness with extreme extroversion. The emphasis is on community, on participating in more programs and events, on meeting more and more people. It’s a constant tension for many introverts that they’re not living that out. And in a religious world, there’s more at stake when you feel that tension. It doesn’t feel like ‘I’m not doing as well as I’d like.’ It feels like ‘God isn’t pleased with me.’”

I haven’t read McHugh’s book, but Cain’s short exposition of her Saddleback visit, detailing their skew toward extroversion, finally pulled together some of the disparate discomforts I’ve always had within my church experience. 

Evangelicals widely, and Adventists specifically, substantively engage in “church” as if everyone were extroverted. The central and valuable idea of community seems too often to play out in ways that are stressors to introverts. 

Contexts

Consider some reactions an introvert like me might have when attending a prototypical Adventist church service.

Greeters

In almost every church I’ve ever visited there are greeters, stationed by the entrances, whose job is to welcome those arriving. They typically offer a bulletin and sometimes have visitors sign the guest book. All fine, in service of being perceived as a welcoming church. But this process can sometimes produce discomfort for an introvert. 

Here is an admittedly extreme example. There’s a church my wife and I have visited a few times that has a particularly effusive greeter usually on-duty. This lady hugs everyone who comes through the door. It has been a cringe-worthy experience for my wife. 

The lady hasn’t (yet) trapped me, but my standard move when entering a lobby is to engage in broken-field walking, using available lobby people as blockers. I can usually zip through before being snared, and get to the sanctuary door goal-line. My wife, who’s also somewhat introverted, is less assertive in evading unwelcome attention. So, she’s been trapped by the hugger and, in consequence, has an aversion to visiting that church. I tell her she needs to traverse the lobby like me, but she unsurprisingly rolls her eyes at my over-the-top methodology.

I suspect the greeter I’m describing is operating as she would like to be treated, were the roles reversed, and might be surprised that not everyone would receive this heartfelt welcome with appreciation. But other more typical and restrained modalities of greeting still lean toward extroversion. The default mindset ties “friendly” and “demonstrative” together.

At another church we once visited, the greeter quite surreptitiously placed a tiny woven-cloth rose, with sticky back, on our lapels. It was evident to us that the church had decided to tag visitors to clue members in, so they might be more proactively welcoming. We pulled the tags off, as soon as we exited the lobby. We just wanted to go to church. The intention was sincere, but the mechanism was objectifying. Still, I think many extroverts would find nothing in this practice to dislike. All is good in service of friendliness.

The Preliminaries

Most North American Adventist services have preliminaries, which can include an official welcome, various announcements, etc. Many also have some form of a “greet your neighbor” task for worshipers to engage in. You’re invited (actually mandated) to “turn to your neighbor and say …” followed by some stock phrase. In some churches congregants are asked to stand and walk around, greeting others. So the sanctuary turns into the foyer for about 5 minutes, as people move about, engaging in sincere cacophony. 

I suppose many extroverted visitors would feel welcomed by such gestures. But it is superficial, forced behavior, and way out of an introvert’s comfort zone. No matter. When the up-front leader tells you to demonstrate friendliness, it is within an extrovert’s paradigm. So, everybody gets in gear, anxiety notwithstanding.

After reading Susan Cain, I later looked on Amazon to get some basic info about the book authored by her fellow-observer, Adam McHugh. Reading through the reviews I found this comment, which strongly resonated:

“You want to know what the worst two minutes of my life are every week? It starts with that moment directly after we sing in church when the worship pastor asks the congregation to turn to someone next to you and say hi. Every single time, my eyes just want to roll.

“I’m not against meeting new people. I actually think people are pretty cool. I used to think that I was just being shy and needed to fight my innate shyness, but in reality, what I loathe is the lack of genuineness. The whole procedure is forced and fake. By the time I am done shaking my neighbor’s hand, I have already forgotten his name. Why? Because I don’t know him and there has been no attempt to know each other.”

Yes, it’s less about interacting with others and more about distaste for choreographed superficiality. But that aversion is part of an introvert’s psyche, too. I have had comparatively few “friends,” and many enjoyable “acquaintances,” over the years. That’s because of how I define friendship. It necessarily involves taking off the mask of pleasantries and being vulnerable with your friend, who willingly reciprocates. Then there is a safe context to talk about substance. This sort of intimacy doesn’t happen quickly and it does not scale. Even if highly compatible people crossed your path daily, no one has the bandwidth to form very many friendships of the sort I’m describing. Introverts welcome intimacy, but would often prefer solitude rather than engaging in the ubiquitous, casual interactions that we all experience.

Calls for Dedication

It’s near the end of a sermon, with the preacher reaching, then passing, the apogee of both exposition and emotion. Finally, right where typically there would be a closing prayer, the speaker instead calls upon everyone to physically respond by standing to affirm that they all align with the just-delivered message. Presumably it has deeply moved everyone and thus this act would voluntarily signify (re)dedication. 

If you’ve ever experienced this coda to a sermon, you likely can recognize that the dominant dynamic here is group pressure to stand up—whether or not you actually feel any personal religio-emotional stirrings or not. I’ve usually felt such moves were blatantly manipulative, even though I also think that typically the speaker is not being disingenuous. Still, they can be oblivious to the group dynamics, thinking this kind of “call” legitimately intensifies the sermon’s impact and value. 

Also, historically this kind of ending has been modeled upon previous generations of preachers, albeit less frequently employed these days. And, a bit insidiously, the speaker can believe there is a heightened sense of message-validation when calling for and receiving a physical response from listeners. This can feel good, as it seems the sermon has reached deep into the hearts of the congregation, even if it didn’t. 

But peer pressure is at the core. Suppose you did not stand with virtually everyone else in the room? The nominal conclusion many around you would likely infer was that you were oddly opposed to the (usually conventional, sometimes clichéd) spiritual reason you were supposed to stand up for. Not that you instead objected to manipulation. There have been a few occasions in my church-going adventures, when I actually remained seated. I was just tired of the maneuver and chose to live with possibly being misunderstood. But the pressure to conform is real, central, and makes the entire action illegitimate—however sincere the preacher may be. And while this snippet of church experience isn’t just problematic to an introvert, when one is “forced” to participate in discomfiting ways, I think the introvert’s cringe level is somewhat deeper than for a prototypical extrovert.

Foot Washing

Adventism is rare, among denominations, in including foot washing as part of the communion service. And anyone who has significant experience in the church should recognize that historically attendance is noticeably lower on communion Sabbaths. It’s the foot washing, and I suggest that being uncomfortable with this portion of the service is highly correlated to introversion.

As an aside, these days some congregations have tried to mitigate this largely unspoken-of angst by providing an option of couples pairing to wash each other’s feet. Further, I think there is now less social stigma to simply remain in the sanctuary, typically listening to quiet meditative music. So, the “problem” has been reduced somewhat.

Just what is the issue? First and significantly, I don’t think people, who have an aversion to the exercise, really disagree with the symbolism. Nor do they have some sort of humility problem. But historically, after the official explanation from up front, people would file out of the sanctuary—men to one room, women to another—and “buddy up” with whoever randomly happened to reach the foot washing room door at the same moment as you did. Thus, you are highly unlikely to pair with someone you know well. 

Yet, in performing this activity, there is ideally a sense of spiritual gravity, with—in my view—a needed interweaving of social intimacy with whoever is your partner. But in practice such familiarity is likely absent. Mainly due to the lack of prior relationship depth with this randomly drawn partner. 

Such dissonance is easier to overcome, I suggest, for an extrovert. This isn’t a criticism; it’s a virtue. But I’m not wired that way, and I’m forced to fit within the blueprint. A psyche of introversion doesn’t just exist; it is legitimate. But this activity almost always necessitates artificial, forced, and thus pseudo-intimacy. The symbolism is important, and I have significant dissonance with my reluctance. I recognize there are many participants for whom my perspective here would be foreign, even baffling. It’s all good, to them. 

But I’m suggesting, as are Susan Cain and Adam McHugh, that there is a sociological current of extroversion in the evangelical mindset, including Adventism. The current runs swift, silent, and deep. And one manifestation is in the degree of discomfort many introverts have with this communion component.

What do I want, anyway?

I write this essay with a bit of fear that it will be perceived by some as inappropriately critical, even whiny. I also recognize that many of the assertions I’m making haven’t been buttressed with lots of sociological research. So these views can be considered as hasty generalizations and consequently invalid. Instead, I’ve focused on my own experience, with the belief that other introverts will find resonance, and perhaps some may get a bit more clarity on why parts of church life could feel discordant.

For extroverts, especially those fully in-tune with a default Happy-Church context, I hope they might recognize—just a bit more—that there is a significant and quiet minority who have to endure parts of their comfortable church experience. For the most congenitally extroverted, this might be a big surprise. For others, I hope this exposition could be a reminder that people vary in temperament, and perhaps some strongly extroverted ways of “doing church” could use a bit more moderation.

Rich Hannon is a retired software engineer. His long-standing avocations include philosophy, geology, and medieval history.

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Why Sunday Is My Day of Rest

COMMENTARY SABBATH, SUNDAY

by Stephen Ferguson  |  10 May 2024  |

Thank goodness for Sunday. As a Seventh-day Adventist, Sunday is my day of rest.

We all know the fourth commandment of the Decalogue by heart, because as Adventists it is our special thing:

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it orderly.

Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy ordinary paid work.

But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: on it, ye shall organize a Sabbath-school class, a worship item, a song service, a drama, a potluck lunch, a communion service, a Pathfinder club camp, a nomination committee meeting, or a sermon.

Ye shall spend the Friday-night evening researching, cooking. or rehearsing. 11pm or midnight shall be your allotted time for sleep.

Everyone in your entire family shall participate in this holy work: thy son, thy daughter, thy manservant and thy maidservant, even thy cattle or the stranger who happens to reside within your gate. If ye are a pastor’s spouse or pastor’s child, thou shall be guilt-tripped into this Lord’s work threefold.

For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it. Therefore, as the Lord sits back and relaxes, work yourself ragged in church-related activities.

That’s Exodus 20:8-11—with some modern reapplication, just as the apostle Paul used to do. (see Eph. 6:2-3 cf. Ex. 20:12.)

Thank God it’s Sunday

Thank God for Sunday. I say that genuinely, not in vain. It is the one day most Adventists—at least we supposedly “good Adventists”—get a break.

Last week was especially brutal. I worked till midnight almost every night in my day job as a government lawyer, to ensure certain officers didn’t face dramatic legal penalties in an upcoming court case. I think I did about 20 extra hours of overtime, and while I am grateful for the money, I would honestly have rather had the time off.

Did I have to work so hard? Not strictly – no. I guess if I didn’t care about people facing potential ruin, I could have taken it easy. Otherwise, yes, I did.

This week also required me to assume the role of sole parent for two elementary-school children, ages 7 and 5, while my wife was traveling on business. After an exhausting week, when Friday evening finally came round, I faced the opening of Sabbath with dread. I realized that tomorrow I had to help run a Primary Sabbath School class in the morning, followed by an Adventurer’s class in the afternoon. I also had to try and find someone to take an adult Sabbath School class, which usually has a dearth of volunteers.

Did I need to help with these church-related activities? Not strictly – no. If I didn’t care about leaving the children’s ministry leader in the lurch, or about my own children who participate in these activities, or about our church’s Adsafe requirement that two adults be present in these children’s classes. Otherwise, yes, I did.

The only thing that saved me that terrible week, both mentally and physically, was Sunday—that most glorious day!

Bring on a Sunday law!

I admit Sunday isn’t always perfect. Sometimes I awake on this special eighth day only to have my dreams of a quiet time shattered by my lovely wife, who hands me a list. As I usually have such a busy work week, and spend Sabbath doing church stuff, that often leaves only Sunday for chores.

Nonetheless, all things being equal, Sunday is my best chance for getting some rest.

It is for this reason I have no fear of an impending Sunday law. In fact, I welcome it. I can only dream of a guaranteed day of complete rest. I long for a time when mowing the lawn, cleaning the pool, putting out laundry, or washing the car on a Sunday will be illegal.

Plucking grain on the Sabbath

Work friends who know about my religious beliefs can’t help but be amazed that I sacrifice half my weekend like this. To them, the Adventist Sabbath seems less like a taste of heaven than some level in Dante’s hell. I confess I am probably not doing a great job at selling the Sabbath ideal in my Christian witnessing.

Perhaps some of you feel the same. Is it any wonder so many Adventists never returned to their local churches after Covid-19? Maybe it’s different where you live, but my anecdotal estimate is that 20-25% of Adventists never came back to regular church worship after the pandemic.

Maybe some of us learned, perhaps for the first time, what it felt like to sleep in on a Saturday morning after a stressful working week—and sound it truly wonderful.

If you are in Adventist church employment, no doubt these sentiments are only amplified. For an Adventist pastor, the Sabbath is not a day of rest, but one’s heaviest day of work. Many pastors’ spouses and pastors’ kids come to see the Sabbath in very negative terms.

Sunday is even more precious to our pastors.

The best Sabbath-keeper I ever met

Could I learn to live the Sabbath ideal better? Of course, I could. To paraphrase the apostle Paul, I often end up doing what I don’t want to do, and don’t do what I know I should do.

I am embarrassed to say the best Sabbath-keeper I ever met was a Sunday-keeping pastor. He believed in the Sabbath as a one-in-seven command, which I admit was not entirely theologically correct. Nevertheless, because he ran a large church on a Sunday, his personal day of rest was Saturday. And how he kept Saturday was truly impressive.

He made each Saturday a true delight. He certainly did not approach the day with a legalistic, Pharisaic attitude. He drove a car, cooked food, visited family and friends, went to the shops, went to the beach, and did a bunch of other things most Orthodox Jews and many Adventists might not do, for fear of being labelled “work.”

Yet, he seemed to get the Sabbath far better than most professed Sabbath-keepers—me included. I would describe his attitude to the day of rest as “a day of chill.”

When he went for a Sabbath walk on the beach, he would go at a slow pace. When he drove, he would deliberately drive in the slow lane and happily let angry and impatient drivers pass him, immune to their road-raged honking horns. When he went to the shops, he would focus on casually browsing, not buying.

Clocks were banned. Screens were banned. Any sort of scheduling or timetabling was banned.

I confess, for all my commitments to church-sponsored activities, which at times nearly kill me, my own Sabbath-keeping was a failure compared to this man’s. You might ask: who in God’s eyes was really the better Seventh-day Adventist? It was him – not me.

Should we abandon Sabbath-work for Sunday-services?

There must be a better way for me, and for you, to do Sabbath.

Does this mean just quitting all my church-related roles? I think saying “no” to church requests is legitimate, but only to a point. The Sabbath is as much about others as ourselves. I don’t think acting selfishly is the answer. The fourth commandment explicitly states it applies as much to the foreigner, the servant, and even our domesticated animals, as it applies to me.

One of the greater ironies of the Adventist church is that many Adventists are tired from Sabbath-related activities precisely because so few are willing to take on church roles. If everyone did their fair share, then the burden wouldn’t be so great. I am sorry to say I am currently doing far less church stuff these days than I have done in the past, and even this load is almost too much for me.

Perhaps instead this means we shouldn’t do the Lord’s work on Sabbath? Just make it a day of doing actually nothing? I don’t think that is the answer either. I have no theological issue with doing church-related activities from Friday night to Saturday-night. This is the whole point of Jesus’ teaching about the disciples’ plucking grain on the Sabbath (Luke 6:1-5). Jesus was not repudiating the Sabbath as a principle, as many Christians wrongly think, but rather affirming that doing the Lord’s work on Sabbath isn’t work forbidden by the fourth commandment.

Perhaps the answer then is to start going to church on Sunday? That idea isn’t as horrible as we might think, although I fear for its practical implications.

Note that the Bible attests Jesus and the apostles all regularly attended their assemblies on Sabbath, which is to say on Saturday (Luke 4:16; Acts 14:1). Both scripture (Acts 20:7) and early church history suggest that communion services were usually Sabbath afternoons or evenings, not Sundays.^[1]

Nonetheless, both Adventists and Sunday-keepers are equally in error of equating “doing church” with keeping the Sabbath, when they are not in fact the same thing. Adventists have traditionally had a Bible study or prayer meeting on Wednesday nights, but this hardly made us Fourth-day Adventists. Theologically speaking, I see no reason why an Adventist church could not hold a church-related activity – even a worship service – on a Sunday. We do it all the time for weeks of prayer, summer camps, church camps, and other special programs.

The idea of replacing the Saturday service with the Sunday service would freak most Adventists out, me included—although I can see no biblical prohibition against it. I think the bigger practical problem of holding church services on Sunday, rather than Saturday, is we would soon start to forget Saturday was the Sabbath at all. This, of course, is what happened historically, where in the first few centuries of Christianity, Saturday remained a special day for quite some time, often as a day of fasting, even though worship occurred on a Sunday. The problem was, out-of-sight became out-of-mind, and after a while, Sunday went from a day of worship in addition to the Sabbath to a day that replaced the Sabbath.

Can lunch be church rather than what we do after church?

So what’s the answer then? To be honest, I am not entirely sure. I am open to ideas.

Maybe church services don’t have to be a major Broadway production? Maybe we should have more unstructured, unprepared services, as is the case in some Christian traditions?

Maybe church administration could be streamlined, so people are not so exhausted from keeping the lights on and the bills paid that they have some energy left for God? Maybe cut short the unnecessarily long and cumbersome board, deacon, and elder meetings?

Maybe church should be on a Friday night, or Saturday afternoon? Maybe Sabbath School shouldn’t start at 9:30am? Maybe we shouldn’t even meet every week?

Maybe we should sit on couches rather than pews? Maybe sometimes the luncheon and fellowship should be the church service, rather than something we do after the service, as was often the case in the Early Church.^[2]

I know many local Adventist churches have experimented with various ideas—and I hope they keep trying new things. All I know is that what we are currently doing doesn’t always work well in a 21^st-century context, and I think these challenges are only getting harder.

I think we need to be willing to slaughter some sacred cows—which may actually be just golden calves after all.

“The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27).

1. See Philip F. Esler, The Early Christian World, vol. 1 (New York: Routledge, 2000), 480. ↑
2. Ibid. ↑

Stephen Ferguson is a lawyer from Perth, Western Australia, with expertise in planning, environment, immigration, and administrative-government law. He is married to Amy and has two children, William and Eloise. Stephen is a member of the Livingston Adventist Church. 

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He Was a Stone Wall, I Was Water: Gender and Fluidity at Margarette Falls

Evie Bates | March 1, 2024 | People