65. Geochronology, the Sabbath and Death before Sin

Note: This is a paper I presented in July, 1998, at a conference on faith and science at Andrews University, sponsored by Andrews and the North American Department of Education. There are several references to the paper on the web, but the actual text is not available elsewhere, so I'm posting it here. To be clear: I'm posting as a historical document not because I think it represents the latest and best thinking on the subject.

GEOCHRONOLOGY, THE SABBATH AND DEATH BEFORE SIN

John McLarty

Abstract: McLarty identifies the seventh-day Sabbath as crucial for SDA self-understanding and unity, but questions our use of the Sabbath as an epistemological principle. High regard for the Sabbath and for conventional geochronology are not mutually exclusive. One possible solution is to see the Genesis One account as a poetic expansion of a creation event that lasted one week but which was a local creation of a habitat for humanity rather than the creation of all fauna, flora, and land forms. The paper also includes some hypotheses regarding death before sin.

Sabbath afternoon in Zion National Park. There were four of us, an engineer, a geologist, an entomologist and a theologian. The topic of conversation? Earth history, of course. And not the date of the Big Bang or the age of Precambrian granites, but the question of when life first appeared on earth.

We all freely acknowledged the paucity of our knowledge. We admitted the existence of problematic data no matter what position we took. There wasn’t much dogmatism that day. But then someone raised the question I’ve heard in nearly every Adventist discussion of geochronology: What about the Sabbath? Isn’t a literal interpretation of Genesis One¹ and the seventh-day Sabbath inextricably linked? If we give up our belief that all terrestrial life forms have their ultimate origin in a single week a few thousand years ago won’t we also lose the Sabbath?

After kicking around some possible solutions to the Sabbath question, the entomologist raised the other perennial question: If you accept conventional geochronology, then how do you handle the matter of death before sin?

The question about the Sabbath is primarily an Adventist question. The question about death before sin has broad ramifications in classic Christian theology.

The Sabbath Issue

Sabbath comes close to being the essential glue that holds us together. We can argue about the meaning of the cross, the role of faith and works, the authority of Ellen White, the nature of

Biblical revelation/inspiration, the meaning of the Apocalypse, and proper Christian dress and video customs. But then we come to the end of the week and interrupt our frenzied lives with

Sabbath habits—special meals, Sabbath School classes, corporate worship, distinctive music, even in some places distinctive radio and TV habits. Sabbath, probably more than any other habit or belief, connects Adventists across the amazingly diverse philosophical/theological spectrum of Adventism.

Given the crucial role Sabbath plays in our Adventist identity, it’s only natural that devotees of Adventism would vigorously combat anything that undermines our church’s appreciation of the Sabbath. And without question, many Adventists, scientists and lay people alike, have seen conventional geochronology as a serious threat to our Sabbath doctrine and practice.

I do not have the chutzpah to suggest this paper can settle all the questions. But I do insist that what follows demonstrates the possibility of holding a high regard for Scripture AND an openness to conventional theories of earth history.

Sabbatholatry.

I betray my conclusion with my title². At times we Adventists talk as though Sabbath is the ultimate test of Biblical interpretation and scientific veracity. If something challenges the Sabbath it must be false. In practice we’re treating the Sabbath as an ultimate epistemological test.

But Sabbath is not the touchstone of truth. Jesus is. If the starting point for one’s theology is the historic Adventist understanding of the mark of the beast, then perhaps we could justify giving Sabbath a normative role judging truth. But if one’s starting point is more Christian, that is if our starting point is a conviction that God has spoken to us through His Son and the record of the Son in The Word, then it seems to me misguided to make a theory’s implications for Sabbath-keeping the ultimate litmus test.

What if we found out the Bible did not teach that ALL terrestrial life forms originated from the flora and fauna which first appeared during a seven-day creation week six thousand years ago? What if we discovered that the Bible did not intend for us to understand that Australia’s protomarsupials disembarked from Noah’s Ark? Would we still believe these things to avoid losing the Sabbath? What if nature itself bore unmistakable witness to several million years of life history? Would we still insist on a life history in the magnitude of thousands of years just to preserve the Sabbath?

To state it bluntly, it would be highly unethical to oppose theories that were true but which we refused to believe merely because they contradicted other theories that were precious to us. It would be unethical to reject a biochronology of millions of years in order to maintain our Sabbath witness if we, in fact, could locate compelling evidence for just such a biochronology. Sabbath is precious, but it does not justify obfuscation. It cannot be made the final measure of truth.

Old Earth Sabbath Keepers: Oxymoron or Fact?

Is the customary Adventist linkage of a young earth and single creation week with the Sabbath logically or experientially necessary? To answer the second part of the question first: it is quite possible to be a devotee of the Sabbath and not believe in conventional SDA creation chronology. I could name several Adventist scientists and theologians who do not believe the conventional Adventist biochronology, but are committed, glad Sabbath keepers. Experientially the linkage is not essential. (Conversely, some of the most doctrinaire “young-agers” are Sunday-keepers.)

What about the logical linkage of Sabbath and geochronology? Can a person read the Bible with any kind of reverence and still question the traditional SDA chronology? This question becomes particularly acute for someone who has grown up in the church believing wholeheartedly in a conventional short chronology but then encounters what seems to be irrefutable evidence for a long chronology. If the only way a person can believe in Sabbath keeping is to first believe in young earth creationism, then our young people who no longer believe the traditional short chronology have no choice but to leave the Adventist Church.

I am convinced it is quite possible to sustain Sabbath convictions without belief in a single, seven-day creation week a few thousand years ago. First of all because of my personal acquaintance with Sabbath keepers who accept uncritically conventional geochronology. Secondly, because I see several logical foundations on which to build a defense of Sabbath-keeping which do not include a literalistic reading of Genesis One.

Support for Sabbath other than Genesis 1

How can a person believe in keeping the seventh-day Sabbath and at the same time read Genesis One as myth or figurative poetry?

1. The Sabbath commandment is given twice in the Mosaic corpus: In Exodus 20 it is said to be rooted in the creation week. In Deuteronomy it is rooted in Israel’s experience of deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Sabbatarians have long noted that these are complementary rather than contradictory rationales for Sabbath-keeping. However that may be, Deuteronomy gives a distinctly different basis for Sabbath-keeping from that found in Exodus. In Deuteronomy the Sabbath commandment is completely independent of the Creation story.

Deuteronomy 5. Isaiah 58. Jeremiah 17. Ezekiel 20.

2. The example of Jesus and the Apostles would be quite sufficient as a rationale for Sabbath-keeping, even if one did not have Genesis One and Two. The founder of our faith was a Sabbath keeper. He declared himself “Lord of the Sabbath.” And his followers were Sabbath keepers in the decades immediately following his death and resurrection.

3. The origins of Sunday sacredness are highly suspect. The modern Protestant practice of reducing Sunday religious practice to church attendance only, avoiding any pretense of holiness for the day, [see Dorothy Bass, editor. Practicing Our Faith, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco. 1997] is much more defensible on the basis of ancient Christian practice than Puritan Sunday sacredness. But it fails to satisfy the human need for a holy day.

Reinterpreting Genesis 1 and 2

1. In the Adventist understanding of hell, we have always insisted that language with obvious chronological meanings must be interpreted in the light of theology. Chronology is a servant of theology, not the other way around. When Jesus talked about the unending torment of gehenna and John wrote about “the smoke of their torment ascending up forever and ever” we make no apology for insisting that these chronological statements be reinterpreted in the light of our conviction that God would not supernaturally sustain life for the purpose of dispensing unending torment. We understand this language about unending torment to refer to the unalterability of the verdict rather than the duration of the punishment.

Applying this same principle to Genesis One we might read the Creation Week narrative as a statement of divine intention or attention rather than as statement of chronology. The story of Genesis One tells us that Almighty God involved himself with earth and did so at the very beginning with the ultimate purpose of bringing into existence creatures capable of intimate fellowship with their Creator.

2. There are many instances in the Bible of straightforward statements that we unquestioningly reinterpret because of what we know are “the facts.” Daniel told Nebuchadnezzar, “you have become great and grown strong, and your majesty has be come great and reached to the sky and your dominion to the end of the earth.” Daniel 4:22. The Mediterranean famine in Joseph’s time was said to be “severe in all the earth.” Genesis 41:57. Acts refers to a famine which affected people “all over the world.” Acts 11:28. And Paul declared the gospel had reached “all the world.” Colossians 1:6. In every one of these instances we understand “the world” to refer to a geographical fragment of what we mean by “the world.” “The world” for these Biblical writers was smaller than what we mean by the same term.

Applying this to Genesis One we might conclude that the writer’s global language referred to events which, from our perspective, were local rather than global.

2A. We don’t believe the ancient world view offered in the Bible. Rev. 7:1 Four corners of the earth. Job 26:8. Wrapping the waters. Job 9:5,6. pillars. Gen. 7:11; 8:2 Flood gates of heaven.

6. There are many instances in the Bible of local phenomena being understood to have global spiritual significance. The divine selection of Abraham is seen not merely as the launching of a particular tribe or ethnic group. His choice somehow is a choice for all mankind. When Isaiah describes the inclusion of non-Jews and disqualified Jews in the congregation of God’s people (Isaiah 56) we immediately understand this to portray the inclusion of all kinds of “unacceptable” people among the people of God. Psalm 87 describes the reckoning of Babylonians, Egyptians and Philistines as natives of Jerusalem. Preachers immediately broaden this to portray the inclusion of all kinds of rejects in the people of God.

Gen. 12:1-3 cf. Rom 4

Deut. 4:34 cf. 1 Pet. 2:9

Deut 5:6 cf Rev. 14:12

Isa. 43 and 56: National language which we apply to current believers.

Ps. 87

Rev. 21.

Jerusalem is used by the New Testament writers as a metaphor for heaven. Israel is spiritualized to the people of God. Babylon becomes the forces of evil.

Israel was challenged to be kind to aliens because they themselves had been aliens in Egypt. But we apply this to our own treatment of immigrants. The declaration “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” comes in a list that includes things like rules for how many days meat from a sacrifice may be kept and eaten, prohibitions against interbreeding two different kinds of cattle, interplanting two crops in a field, cutting the body in mourning or “rounding off the side-growth of your heads.” But we have no problem at all separating the enduring, universally applicable rule “love your neighbor” from the local “do not harm the edges of your beard.” (All references in this paragraph are from Leviticus 19).

Applying the same principle to Genesis One, it would be quite possible to believe both that Genesis One referred to something smaller and more local than the creation of all fauna, flora and terrestrial landforms (as well as the sun, moon and stars) and still believe that its words about the Sabbath teach us something vital for all humanity.

New Ways of Reading the Bible and Geology

The last three points in the previous section already suggest non-traditional (within Adventism) ways of reading the Biblical text which allow for an easier harmonization of Scripture and conventional geology. Since I am a theologian, not a scientist, I can more readily suggest examples of bending that can be done by theologians. At the same time without any hesitation or timidity I challenge scientists to question the orthodoxy in their own tradition. The fact that all geologists believe something doesn’t make it true. I have worked in the field of manuscript collation and often struggle to suppress a guffaw or two when I read statements about the “assured results of scholarship” in connection with textual criticism. Those “assured results” include huge amounts of conjecture dignified by age and the academic credentials of the conjecturers. Earth science has much more data to work with than does textual criticism, but I doubt the human factors in the respective fields are much different.

I challenge scientists to cultivate at least as healthy a skepticism about the orthodoxy of science as they have about the orthodoxies of religion. Potentially one of the values of young earth creation scientists is that they keep the pot boiling. They ask impolite questions. At times, they make preposterous assertions. They “see” things that aren’t there. But at least they are roiling the status quo or in the words of the bumper sticker, they “Question Authority.”³

Our great need as Adventists is not for scientists who are committed to young earth creationism. That presupposes too much; it precludes too much. But we do need scientists who will actively look for ways to articulate the agreement of geology and Scripture. We need scientists conversant with a number of different fields who will look for ways to interpret the data that are faithful both to the tangible facts and to the spiritual insight of Scripture.

One Model

One way to understand Genesis One is to see it as the poetic expansion or globalization of a local creation event. Behind Genesis One is a particular creation week during which God prepared a local habitation for the first humans, the Garden of Eden.

Moses took the events of that week and used them to symbolize God’s global involvement and his anthropocentrism. The week which began human history is seen as the beginning of time. The creation of the animals which supported human life—domestic sheep, domestic cattle, horses, dogs, camels—is pictured as the creation of all animals. The creation of the plants on which humans depend—grains, fruit trees—is portrayed as the creation of all flora.

I’ve been intrigued by what appears to be a convergence at about ten thousand years ago of the appearance of Cro-Magnon people, grain culture, and some domestic animals. Is this “scientific” evidence for a creation?

This approach preserves the Adventist understanding of Creation Week as a literal seven-day period in which God prepared a special habitation for the primeval humans. His resting at the end of this week would still have the rich theological meaning expounded by Barth and other theologians. It would still carry the imperatives Adventists and other Sabbatarians have preached.

Whether the first Sabbath came at the end of the week which saw the creation of all flora, fauna, land forms and celestial bodies or marked the end of the week in which God climaxed creation history by preparing a special home and then creating Adam and Eve, Sabbath would remain a premier expression of God’s desire for relationship with his creatures. It would speak of grace and obedience.

Why Should We Bother with Geochronology?

Why should the SDA denomination publicly open the question of geochronology? Our system has built a reputation as a defender of a short geochronology. Many of our members are quite happy with our current public stance and would be upset if it were altered. So why bother?

I have no personal need for my model to be accepted. If tomorrow my views were declared heretical and I was defrocked and disfellowshiped, I’m sure it would hurt, but I’d survive. And my faith in God would survive. I’m too old to change that.

My concern is not for myself or other “Boomers” but for the young people I meet who are wrestling with the difference between what they can believe and what the church declares is essential Adventism. When a young person goes off to college or graduate school and comes to the conclusion that short age creationism is not tenable I don’t want that young person to be forced to choose between the community of faith and the community of science. These are not mutually exclusive communities. Many of us who are older have found our own, at-times- difficult-and-painful way between the conflicting demands of these communities. We don’t want our children and our grandchildren to face the same wrenching conflicts we did.

I remember hearing H. M. S Richards, Jr. speak to the pastors of Greater New York Conference. Speaking specifically of questions surrounding earth history he declared, “If you don’t believe it [the SDA short age tradition], then you should have the courage and integrity to resign and get out.” I don’t remember if I actually wrote a resignation letter or if I merely composed it in my mind a hundred times, but I came very close to resigning. It seemed to me the only way. This, in spite of having entered the ministry with a very strong sense of “divine call.”

Several years later, Richards sat in the committee that interviewed me for a position as a writer at Voice of Prophecy. In that interview I was forthright about my geochronological questions. I was hired. But I doubt I’ll ever forget the months of agony as I weighed the question: Could I be an Adventist pastor with integrity and still have the opinions I did about geochronology? I don’t want my children to endure that kind of pain. Life is hard enough already.

When Richards made that unequivocal statement to the pastors of Greater New York Conference, he did not intend to make me unwelcome in the church. (Witness my hiring by the Voice of Prophecy to write sermons for him to read on international radio.) He was speaking out of his profound loyalty to the denomination and his belief at that time that anyone who questioned traditional SDA earth history was undermining the Church. I’m not asking the church to re-educate its grandmothers regarding the proper interpretation of Genesis One. I am urging us to make room in our church for our children whatever their persuasions regarding geology.

Columbia, Missouri story: Man who called me after my letter to the editor appeared in the Review. He was on the verge of resigning his church membership because he thought he was the only Adventist with questions about geochronology. Because I was a minister and had the same questions he decided there was room in the church for him.

Ladell Fisher told me her brother was a geologist. He has dropped out of the church because he could not accept a short chronology.

If we are honest, we must confront the reality that many of the people in our denomination who challenge our belief in a short chronology began their study in pursuit of scientific evidence supportive of our tradition. They gave up a short chronology only with great reluctance and in the face of overwhelming evidence. Hare, Lugenbeal, Ritland, to name some famous ones. And there are many others as well.

It’s time to reject chronological concerns as the center of our spiritual life and theology. In our early days our obsession with chronology led to the great disappointment. We still like to say we got the chronology right but the event wrong. Well, maybe something like that is true with creation week. Yes, something happened a few thousand years ago. But maybe it wasn’t the first appearance of life on this planet. Maybe it didn’t involve literally the whole world. Maybe it wasn’t the first time God intervened on earth. Maybe it wasn’t the last. And if we got the event wrong, is it all that significant that we got the date right?

Death before Sin

What about death before sin? This question has broad roots in classic Christian theology. Forgive my giving a ten cent answer to a million dollar question, but just a few suggestions of some directions we might look for answers:

The uniqueness of humans. All of nature is declared to be God’s doing, to be the fruit of God’s creativity. But only humans are said to be created IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. Is immortality part of the imago dei? When the Bible declares that Adam and Eve would die if they ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, did that mean that all of creation was deathless until that time or that by eating from the tree humans would sink to the condition of the animals through their disobedience? Is it possible that deathlessness a unique gift given to humans alone of all creation?

The Tree of Life. It appears that even Adam and Eve had only conditional immortality. When separated from the tree of life they died. Would this have been the result even if they hadn’t sinned? Why did they need to eat from the tree? The very existence of the tree of life suggests that Adam and Eve did not live in a deathless world. Did animals eat from the tree of life also? What if they did? What if they didn’t?

The difference between pre-fall and post-fall nature. If there was a deathless world before sin, then pre-fall nature was so radically different from what it is now that we probably can know NOTHING of the pre-sin world by studying nature. In fact, the difference between that world and ours would be so great that the present world would have to be the result of a complete recreation. If the deathless world of creation transformed into our world with its cycles of decay and birth, its predation and parasitism, through natural processes, it would represent a rate of change that could easily accommodate the evolutionary changes from the Cambrian through the Pleistocene in a very few years indeed. I.e. Darwinism is more plausible.

The Atonement. Human death has a unique meaning rooted in the unique position of humans as the image of God. If we conclude not all death is the result of sin, that in no way undermines the significance of the cross. In classic Christian theology, the cross was necessary not because of the existence of death (human or otherwise) but because of the existence of sin. And of all terrestrial creatures only humans were capable of sin. For Almighty God death is an easy problem to solve. The warping of the moral fabric of the universe by the sinful choices of humans or “gods” creates a much larger problem. And it was that warping and associated problems that the death of Jesus addressed.

CONCLUSION

While Adventists have understandable concerns about potential threats to our convictions about the Sabbath and our understanding of the connection between death and sin, openness to conventional geochronology does not necessarily undermine either doctrinal cluster. This paper presents just one approach to harmonizing Adventism and conventional biochronology. If the church were more open, it is my conviction that the creative tension between devotion to the Bible and love of the natural sciences would prompt the publishing of a variety of useful and interesting answers to these long-standing questions.

^{_______________________}

¹Throughout the article I will refer to Genesis One. I know that the first creation narrative continues through Genesis 2:3. I also know there are other passages which refer to the creation story as recounted in Genesis One. Still it is a convenient shorthand.

²The formation of the title is taken from the cautionary statements intended by the words Bibliolatry (worship of the book rather than the God who stands above the book) and Mariolatry (idolizing Mary instead of joining her in adoring her Son).

³Okay, okay. I know there’s another way to view this. It’s possible that the activism of young-earth creationists has slowed the advance of science by making it even more politically dangerous for mainstream scientists to question the orthodoxy of the system. If you question orthodoxy you have to be very careful to dissociate yourself from any sympathy for the “crazies.”

___________________

John McLarty is a writer and producer for The Voice of Prophecy and editor of Adventist Today. The opinions expressed in this paper are entirely his own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Voice of Prophecy or Adventist Today.

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).]

Chapter 63. Adventist Media Center

The Adventist Media Center had been created through a shotgun wedding of The Voice of Prophecy, It Is Written, Faith for Today, the three major Adventist media ministries. The Voice of Prophecy, founded by H. M. S. Richards, Sr., was the oldest and most venerable. Its primary medium was radio. It Is Written, led by George Vandeman and Faith for Today led by Dan Matthews were TV ministries. Each had its own offices, cadre of loyal supporters and donors, and production facilities. Neal Wilson, the General Conference president, coerced them into moving in together. The new campus, located in Thousand Oaks, CA, was grand. Three large buildings set in an expanse of lawn and trees. It appeared idyllic.

The reality was complicated. The people at VOP, especially, resented the loss of their old home in Glendale. The facilities there were more modest, but they were paid for and they were hallowed with the memories of H. M. S., Sr. The production facilities required for radio are vastly less expensive than what is required for quality TV production. So VOP resented being saddled with the shared overhead of production facilities for TV.

The creation of the media center meant the creation of an additional layer of administration that had to be funded. All of the ministries resented the cost and meddling of the center administration.

One of the striking features of the Voice of Prophecy culture was the sense of family. Decision-making involved a broad assortment of people. The committee that gave regular direction to our work included not only the speaker/directors, (Richards and Melashenko), and the manager, but all the writers, the heads of the order fulfillment department and the Bible school, several retirees, and maybe another person or two I don't remember. Sitting around the table everyone's input was welcomed.

Outside the committee room, this feeling of a congenial team permeated the entire ministry. The employees evinced a strong sense of participation in a grand and significant ministry. And they seemed to care for one another.

All of this was in stark contrast to my perception of relationships at the highest level at the Adventist Media Center. There was constant, palpable tension among the heads of the various ministries and the Center administration. Which was only natural. Each ministry had its own mission. They were led by people with strong egos. (Of course, they would have described this as strong commitment to their calling.) The president of the Center had his own dreams of greatness. (In God's service, of course.)

When budget constraints required cutting staff, the halls buzzed with resentment and rumors. 

At some point it occurred to church administrators that they were sitting on a goldmine in the physical facilities of the Media Center. The property was worth millions. So the Center administration explored the possibility of selling the property and moving operations to a smaller physical plant. The idea was that this would net millions of dollars that could be put into an endowment to fund the ongoing work of the ministries. A buyer was found for the Thousand Oaks property and an empty building was found in a business park in Simi Valley.

The final decision to sell was made in a conference call of the Media Center board (rather than in a face-to-face meeting where the decision might have been more thoroughly processed). It was a disaster. All of the profit from the sale was consumed in the construction of offices, studios and production facilities in the Simi Valley building. There was nothing left to put into an endowment for operations. The new facility was much smaller, less attractive and worth far less money than the original property. The sale did not lead to any enhancement of ministry. The sale heightened tensions among the leaders at the Center.

Within Voice of Prophecy itself money was always a problem but managing the consequences of shrinking revenues did not seem to produce the same kind of acrimony that characterized the center administration and staff. Voice of Prophecy's prestige and influence in the denomination and income had peaked before I arrived. Nearly every year budget constraints compelled us to cut a few more stations to keep the budget balanced.

The overall fraternal, collegial atmosphere of Voice of Prophecy had one glaring exception. Melashenko had no warm personal connections with any of his staff. He was not close to the manager or any of the writers. The longer I worked at the Voice of Prophecy, the more strongly I believed this disconnect between the leader of the ministry and the senior staff of the ministry was a significant impediment. I thought it would be smart for the board to give Melashenko permission to fire all of us and bring in people he connected with naturally and easily. But our denomination doesn't work that way. So Melashenko soldiered on, doing the best he could with a staff that was not appropriately enthralled with its leader.

One expression of Melashenko's distance from his staff was the lack of meaningful spiritual/theological conversation. In my entire six and half years working as one of Melashenko's writers, I never had a theological conversation with him. Nor did I ever hear him engage in conversation about theology or spiritual life with any one else. I learned over time to write material that “fit” Melashenko's preaching passion. At our best – when I wrote content that was natural to Melashenko – his reading of my scripts was better preaching than I could have ever achieved preaching my own stuff. He truly was gifted as a verbal presenter. But I had to learn his voice somewhat through trial and error, because we never had any extended conversations about religion, theology or spirituality.

We writers were constantly talking and arguing, in breaks in the studio, over lunch, in the hall, in structured meetings. But even when Melashenko was present, he never entered these conversations. The writers were quite different in temperament, education, age, and cultural background. These differences naturally showed up in the content of our writing. We regarded our differences with good humor, respecting the others' commitment to God, the Bible and people. Once when I split the writing of a week-long series with another writer, we deliberately wrote strongly in our own voices, which meant that a careful listener would have detected a significant inconsistency between what Melashenko preached at the beginning of the week and what he said at the end of the week. We thought it was funny. As far as I know Melashenko did not notice.

Plagiarism remained a threat. Once Melashenko surprised me by handing me a script he had written. I was delighted until I read it. It was a sermon on parenting. The general thrust of the sermon was that parents should not spend too much time on their kids. Parents should have their own lives and not be unduly dominated by the time and attention needs of their children. I wasn't sure how well this sermon would be received since Melashenko did not have any children of his own and the sermon did not make any pretense of citing studies or widely recognized authorities to support its unconventional wisdom. Quite apart from these concerns, was the fact that the sermon reminded me strongly of an article I had read in an airline magazine. I got a copy of the magazine to check my memory. Unfortunately, the sermon script was even closer to the magazine article than I had suspected. We didn't broadcast the sermon.

Sometimes, one of the writers complained about Melashenko using material from the broadcast in the sermons he preached at campmeetings and other live events. He felt that Melashenko should be doing his own work for these occasions. I argued it was better for him to use our material because of the consistency it gave between live sermons and radio broadcasts and because none of the writing staff was comfortable with the content Melashenko came up with on his own. I argued it reflected poorly on the ministry as a whole when Melashenko delivered sermons with mediocre content. 

As you read this, you can see that given my low level of confidence in Melashenko's mind and judgment it was time for me to move on. I contacted a couple of ministerial secretaries to see about returning to the pastorate, but I didn't put much energy into my job search. The truth is the job at Voice of Prophecy was so much easier than the pastorate. I worked eight to five, Monday through Thursday. Often I traveled on weekends, but more than half the time, I was home for the weekend. I liked my colleagues. I enjoyed writing.

About this time I called an old friend of mine. I spent time complaining to him about the situation at the Voice of Prophecy. After a little while of listening, he interrupted me. “John, I think I'm hearing a lot of ego.”

Thinking he was doing reflective listening, I responded, “That's just the way I see it. If these people didn't think so much of themselves, there would a chance of actually changing and becoming more effective.”

“No, John,” he said. “I'm not talking about their egos. I'm talking about yours.”

Coming from almost anyone else this would have been an attack, from George it was a diagnosis. I was brought up short. He was right.

Chapter 62. Good People but Unbelievers

My theology continued to be shaped by surprising, unlikely teachers.

I attended a funeral. Not that I knew the kid – in fact, I had never met him – but out of respect for his mother who was one of my co-workers. It was an astonishing service. There was a very large representation of young adults present. This was not a church crowd or an Adventist college crowd. Their dress, bling, hair and body language all suggested a harder, edgier identity.

When time was given for people to speak about Billy, a number of these young adults spoke. Listening to them you would have thought Billy was a saint. When a guy was kicked out of his apartment by his girlfriend, whose couch did he end up on for months? Billy's. When someone needed to get bailed out of jail, who did he call? When you totaled your car and needed to borrow wheels to get to work so you didn't lose your job, who would give you their keys? And it wasn't only the kids who painted this picture a couple of older people also spoke of Billy's consistent ethic of care. I left the service with the happy assurance that Billy was a genuinely good person, the obvious hints of substance abuse notwithstanding.

A few weeks later Janet stopped me in the hall. We talked about her son. Well, actually we talked about her grief. She didn't know what to do with the insuperable weight of it. It's not that her son had died. That was horrific enough. It was that she had no hope. She would never see him again. She thought she could handle the loss if only she had hope for the future. But that was not available. He hit an oak tree going who-knew-how-fast when he failed to make a ninety degree turn on one of the snakey roads coming over the mountains from the coast. He would have died instantly. There was no time for a last minute conversion.

“How can you be so sure you won't see him?”

“Well, you know, he wasn't safe to save. He had been really heavy into alcohol and drugs. He had cut back on that. In fact, he was really doing pretty good, but he wasn't a Christian. He grew up in the church but he rejected Jesus and the church and God. So he wouldn't be safe to save.”

I was taken aback by her words. It was a new use of the idea of “safe to save.” Graham Maxwell popularized the phrase in Adventism. As I understood it, he taught that the dividing line between those who would live eternally and those who would be annihilated was just this: were they safe to save? Could God safely give a person eternal life? I think the principal concern was, would the person go back to rebelling against God and harming people? The entire point of the drama of history was to prepare for an eternity where people would have freedom without any risk they would revert to sin.

I thought the point of this construct was to offer hope. It did not require that people achieve perfection before death or the Second Coming. It appeared to me to obviate need for people to perfectly master the salvation formulas of evangelical Christianity. However, this mother linked it with the traditional Adventist notion of a dauntingly high standard of practice and belief. Her son obviously did not meet that Adventist standard of wholehearted, publicly declared faith in the saving merits of Jesus. He just as obviously did not meet the classic stipulation of Ellen White: overcoming every hereditary and cultivated tendency to evil. So he wasn't safe to save. Doomed. Damned. Unquestionable, irrevocably.

 

While he was alive, she had prayed and hoped. But now what could she do? How do you live with no hope?

I asked her about some rumors I had heard about her son. Were they true?

“Yes. He really was a good kid. After his father left me, all the kids were supportive, but Billy came every week and maintained the pool and the yard. I don't know what I would have done without him. I couldn't have afforded to hire someone, and it was too much for me to do alone.

“And yes, when his dad had that accident, his girlfriend moved out a week later. And Henry was bedfast. He couldn't even get up and go to the bathroom. Billy moved in and waited on him hand and foot for six months. Can you believe that?”

“What about those stories the kids told at the funeral," I asked, "about Billy lending them money or letting them crash on his couch? Was that all true?”

“Well, you know, Billy had all these friends from Academy. None of them go to church any more. A lot of them are into drugs and alcohol. They're a mess. Billy was a mess, too, for a long time. But even when he was drinking so much he could not hold on to a job for long, he was always helping his friends. More than once one of his friends would end up on Billy's couch for weeks at a time. Everybody knew that if you were in trouble, call Billy. Yes. That's true.”

“Then you can hope to see him again.”

“How? He rejected God and the church. He hadn't been to church in years, except when he came sometimes with me on holidays, just to make me happy. He never went for himself.”

“Janet, you know the story of the sheep and goats. It's the most famous passage in the Bible about Judgment Day. In that story, when God announces who's in and who's out on Judgment Day what does he base the decision on? Does he ask people if they believe in Jesus? Does he do a urine test? Does he check their church attendance record? No, he checks one category: compassion. Did you feed me when I was hungry, give me clothes when I was naked, visit me when I was in prison?

“From what I heard at the funeral and from what you are telling me now, Billy clearly passed that test. So I'm planning of having you introduce us when we get to heaven.”

“Do you really think so? Are you sure?”

“I have no question at all. Unless you've been making up stories and unless all those people at the funeral were just saying nice things that weren't really true, Billy is going to be at the head of the line, heading into the kingdom.”

“But he wasn't a believer. What about that?”

“It is a truism in Christianity that if a person claims to be a believer but acts like the Devil, we say their actions speak louder than their words. Jesus said as much in Matthew 7. Even people who are so religious, they are working miracles and prophesying, if in the rest of their lives they're acting like wicked people, all their religious words and religious work are irrelevant. We know what they really believe by the way they behave. I believe the opposite is also true. If someone insists they don't believe in God or Jesus, but when you check out their behavior it looks like they're a believer, I think we can trust their behavior over their words. Your son was a believer, no matter what he said. He acted like a believer. He acted like he believed Jesus since he was doing what Jesus told us to do.”

“You really think so? Really?”

“Yes.”

I could see her thinking new thoughts. I could see hope sprouting or at least germinating. It was going to be resisted by decades of dogma that insisted people like her son were damned. But I was quoting Bible verses she knew. I was appealing to images that were as deeply rooted in her mind as the words of condemnation and exclusion.

I went on to write sermons developing this idea further. It seems to me best to view salvation as something that comes through God's grace. Neither human behavior (classically, works) nor human opinion (classically, faith) is the engine of salvation. Humans receive grace. How? The Bible offers a variety of pictures of receptivity works. Baptism, the Lord's Supper, Sabbath keeping, and, of course, verbal declarations of faith are all ways for us to more fully and richly receive God's grace. All of these expressions are expected of a Christian. You can cite passages that explicitly support the necessity of each of these. So the church appropriately presents these as normative. But God is quite able to handle the exceptions like the thief on the cross and like Billy.

Billy's rejection of church and God was quite understandable. His dad had been an elder in the church and made a great show of religion. Then he dumped Bill's mom for someone younger and fresher. During Bill's teen years, at almost the same time his dad was chasing a shorter skirt, a pastor and the youth leader at his church became involved in scandalous affairs. Then the Bible teacher at the Adventist academy Bill attended went off the deep end, first theologically then psychologically. Almost every man Bill knew who would have appropriately served as a model for God violated Bill’s trust. When Bill turned his back on God and the church, he was rejecting pretense, hypocrisy and non-integrity. He refused to believe in the god of shyster religiosity. I think God would approve.