Chapter 66 Incompatibility

There were some obvious incongruences between my identity as the writer/producer of the Voice of Prophecy and my identity as the editor of Adventist Today. While in the days of its founder H. M. S. Richards, Sr., Voice of Prophecy had been a venturesome and even controversial ministry, over the decades it had been one of the most venerable institutions in the Adventist Church. It was a trusted brand—by church administrators, by pastors, by the laity.

Adventist Today, on the other hand, was an upstart. It was controversial by nature. It was feared and disliked by church administrators. It was condemned by many conservative members for “tearing down” the church. Even though I aspired to give the magazine a more positive focus, there was no escaping the fact the had published and would continue to publish articles that gave attention to scandals in church administration and to the challenges to Adventist orthodoxy that arose primarily from academics and intellectuals.

In accepting the editorship I knew I was risking my employment. At minimum I knew I was closing the possibility for any “upward” move in the denomination. I took the position for a couple of reasons. First, it was offered. My guess is I would have gladly worked for any of the Adventist journals—The Adventist Review, Signs of the Times, Ministry. By this time, after six years of constant writing, I was confident of my ability to put Adventist beliefs into good words. I could have served usefully as an associate in any of these denominational publications.

Second, it offered an avenue of ministry most closely aligned with what I saw as my special gifts. The target audience was educated, intellectual Adventists. I was confident I could articulate an attractive vision of Adventism to this demographic. I strongly suspected that people in that demographic were more likely to read a “defense of the faith” if it was published in an independent magazine. The independence and controversial nature of the magazine which alienated church administrators were precisely the credentials I needed to be able to gain the attention of these people with Adventist roots and skeptical natures.

Curiously it was not my work as editor of Adventist Today that got me in hot water with denominational leaders. It was the paper I presented at the Faith and Science Conference at Andrews University. As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, conservatives at the Seminary thanked me for my presentation. They would not have agreed with everything I said, but they affirmed the pastoral concern I called for, and they appreciated my public stance which they imagined enlarged the thinking room in the church. My public articulation of my views helped create space for conservatives to creatively wrestle with the issues involved in theology and earth history.

A couple of months after the conference, I was summoned to a meeting of the program department, the manager of Voice of Prophecy and Melashenko. Melashenko led the meeting.

“I've received a letter from Al McClure (the president of the Adventist Church in the U.S. And Canada) with a note by Elder Folkenberg (the president of the international church). They have asked me about your employment here at the Voice of Prophecy. They have read a paper you wrote about evolution and the Sabbath. They believe it reflects negatively on the ministry of the Voice of Prophecy.”

I was surprised. I had not published the paper. Not that it was private or secret, but I certainly had no idea that the presidents of the North American Division and the General Conference were reading what I wrote.

Melashenko tried to ease the sting of his message by comparing my situation to his embarrassment a month or two earlier when he had written a strongly-worded defense of an evangelist who had been accused of a romp with a mistress. A few weeks later video of the evangelist and the woman turned up, video the evangelist himself had taken! Melashenko had egg all over his face.

I strongly disagreed with the parallel Melashenko was attempting to draw. I pointed out that in his case, once he knew the facts and faced the consequences of his letter, he strongly wished he had never written it. I was not embarrassed. I had written my paper after decades of studying the facts. Facing the reality of negative consequences from writing the paper, I would do it again gladly because my commitment to pastoral care for scientists in the church was greater than my commitment to career preservation.

A few weeks later, Cyril Miller, one of the vicepresidents of the General Conference and the chairman of the Voice of Prophecy board, was on campus. He came to see me. I enjoyed the visit immensely, for all the wrong reasons. Miller had a reputation as a tough, even ruthless, administrator. I had heard stories of people called into his office. However, instead of calling me into a conference room or some other place for a private conversation, he came to my cubicle.

His demeanor appeared mild and diffident. My read was that he suddenly realized that cubicles offer no privacy. Everything we said could be heard over the partitions. Or perhaps his reputation was undeserved. In any case there was no bullying on his part. We had a respectful conversation about my plans. He explained that the reason the church presidents were so concerned about my paper was my identity as a writer/producer at the Voice of Prophecy. That was a high status position in the denomination. They could not afford to have someone in a position with so great responsibility questioning our absolute commitment to creationism. He was happy to hear that I was pursuing employment elsewhere. 

 

Suddenly, I had a new worry. “I have a question.” I said. “ Let's say I get a job as a pastor somewhere. And I pack up my family and we move. How far are you guys going to chase me? I don't want to move away from all my friends and support system here only to end up jobless and friendless in a strange place six months later.”

“Oh, you don't need to worry about that. If you are just a pastor, your views won't be a matter of concern.”

I have often replayed those words: If you're just a pastor . . .”

In October of 1998 we moved to Washington where I became pastor of North Hill Christian Fellowship, a six-year-old congregation in the suburbs of Tacoma.