Chapter 64. Adventist Today

About the time we moved to California, a new independent magazine appeared, Adventist Today. It appeared to me to fill the place previously occupied by Adventist Currents, a bitterly critical journal that cataloged the hypocrisies, ethical lapses and errors of judgment of Adventist leaders. Adventist Today seemed a bit less venomous, a bit more thoughtful. Still, it seemed to me unrelievedly critical. There was no good news, no thoughtful positive presentation of Adventist spirituality from a liberal perspective.

I believed in the value of an independent press. An organization as large as the Adventist Church and having the kind of impact on people's lives the church exerts needs the check on power provided by the flow of information that is not controlled by the denomination. (This, of course, was back when most people thought of information as something that was written on paper.) Still after reading an issue of the magazine, I would find myself feeling sick. Was my church really that bad? That uniformly bad?

No, I knew from my own experience that the Adventist Church touched many people with hope and healing. It sustained human well-being, in spite of its very real failings. It offered some distinctive perspectives in theology not readily found elsewhere. And I prized some of these distinctive perspectives and thought the world would benefit from their wider dissemination. I longed for a journal that explored Adventist spirituality without the constraints of official approval, a journal that addressed problems and scandals as necessary but did not specialize in the negative.

Once, when I was in Loma Linda, I stopped by the office of Jim Walters, the editor of Adventist Today. I repeated to him what I've written above—about my appreciation for an independent press, about my concern for the predictable negatively of almost everything in the journal.

“I'm looking for a magazine that will celebrate the best in liberal Adventism. I worry about the long term effects of focusing too much on the failings of the church.” I said.

I hoped I wasn't being too impolite. Jim astonished me with his response. “If you were editor, do you think you could do any better?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then why don't you give it a try?”

I wondered how the Voice of Prophecy organization would react if I became publicly associated with something as controversial in the church as Adventist Today. I knew that taking on the editorship would close any career advancement in the church. I would never be offered any administrative position. It would mean that I was ineligible for consideration for any faculty position at an Adventist college. On the other hand, it was an opportunity to engage in the ministry I felt most called to—ministry to those whose primary challenges in spiritual life arose from the intellect. I was increasingly worried that our denomination was becoming a place that was closed to earth scientists. Within the church, we required that scientists who studied earth history consider only evidence that supported what we already knew.

I told Jim I would consider the position if it were offered. Within a few months, I became the editor. Walters was a model for releasing control and offering continued support when a younger, inexperienced person is moving into a new sphere of ministry. He did everything possible to enable my work.

The position paid three thousand dollars per year. I paid for most of my expenses, including travel, so that in the end I think I came out about even financially.

I discovered it is easier to theorize about change than to effect it. I was unabashedly committed to the “check-and-balance” function an independent press provided vis-a-vis the organization. I was even more committed to articulating a vision of healthy Adventist spirituality, a spirituality that acknowledged its debt to our denominational heritage, but openly moved beyond our historic obsession with endtime scenarios to a concern for human well-being in the most comprehensive sense. It turned out, that given our tiny budget, we were unable to make writing assignments. Often we published pieces not because they were the best, but because they were minimally acceptable and they were all we had. Sometimes I approved articles so we could go to press, not because I was proud of their content.

In a painful early learning experience, we published an article detailing the mistreatment of a female Adventist employee. There were several malefactors in the story, with a conference president being the chief sinner. The article was well-written and hard-hitting.

Oops! The writer based the article exclusively on the testimony of the disgruntled employee. She did not interview the conference president or anyone else qualified to present contrary evidence or to give context. After publication, I heard from a number of people close to the situation, people I knew and trusted. They uniformly insisted our reporting was so one-sided it was essentially false. I was embarrassed and, hopefully, a little wiser. What made our publication of this report even worse was that the author was a member of the editorial staff. I had picked up that she delighted in muckraking. Her glee at bashing the church should have made me more wary. However, I allowed myself to be swayed by the polish of her writing and the pressure of deadlines. The bottom line: I approved publication. Not long after this the author moved to a non-Adventist publication where she could more freely fuse her writing skills and anti-Adventist animus.

In July, 1998, there was a conference on Faith and Science at Andrews University sponsored by the University and the North American Division Department of Eduction. I was invited to present a paper on how one could be a Sabbath-keeper even if he didn't believe in a 6 day/6000 year creation. The focus was the pastoral care of scientists who remained in the church. I presented my paper the last day of the conference. I was flattered that many seminary faculty attended and surprised by their affirmation afterward. The responses that I remember came from two or three well-known conservatives, (men who were major presenters at the church-sponsored Faith and Science Conferences described in the next chapter). These men thanked me for my presentation. They said I helped to create room for them to do their work. I make the “safe-thinking space” in the church larger.

[Note: The paper is referenced several places on the web, but the content is not available elsewhere so I've posted it in its original form as the next entry on this blog. Bibliographic info: McLarty, John. “Geochronology, the Sabbath and death before sin”, (Unpublished manuscript, Conference on Science and Faith, Andrews University, Berrien Springs, MI; July 23-29, 1998).]