This post is a slightly modified version of the last chapter of a term paper I wrote for a class taught by Prof. Fernando Canale at Andrews University Theological Seminary in the fall of 1996. It represents an early experimentation with constructive (systematic) theology. The paper was entitled “‘Crisis’ in Seventh-day Adventist Theology: A Research Essay” in which I analyzed references to a theological and ecclesiastical crisis that various Adventist writers were making at that time.

Where is Adventism headed? Where is Adventist theology going (if we can still speak of it as a systematic unity)? Observers of the present “crisis” across the spectrum of the church are all agreed that some sort of rethinking and reforming is in order.

I believe that in order for the Adventist church to survive the present theological-ecclesiastical crisis as an organic unity it must approach its theology from the perspective of wholism. This principle is one that can be gleaned from Scripture and is implicitly present already in Adventist theology. By “wholism,” I am referring to the approach which arises from the belief that all of God’s revelation and all of life are integral parts of the whole. This approach views revelation and life as a harmonious totality, not as loosely related series of individual ideas and experiences. If God’s ideal for human beings was indeed to be one unto themselves (Gen 2:7), with his beloved (Gen 2:24), with other believers (John 17:11), with God (John 15:4; 17:21) and all God’s creation (Gen 1:28; Ps 24:1, 2; Isa 45:18), our understanding of self, human life, the world, and God must also reflect that one-ness, or whole-ness. This one-ness goes beyond internal coherence of logic or vague presumption that all are somehow connected. Because of its affirmation that “[t]he earth is the Lord’s and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein” (Ps 24:1) and that God “has established the world by His wisdom, and stretched out the heaven by His understanding” (Jer 51:15), Adventist theology must seek to gain further glimpses of the wisdom and understanding which provide a wholistic integration of the universe.

The principle of wholism is ubiquitous in Scripture and in nature, which Adventists believe to be the two media of divine revelation. I believe that a crisis occurs in a church when this wholism is not fully captured and is neglected at the expense of a particular aspect of the whole.

The wholistic understanding of the human nature is familiar to Adventists. We have rightly stressed that the human nature is not only an indivisible whole in composition, but also an integral unity in function. For this reason, we have maintained that health, happiness, and holiness are absolutely inter-dependent. When the wholism of the human nature is taken seriously, Adventists should have less problems with unbiblical and impossible perfectionism. If we accept the biblical assertion that humanity will need to endure the sin-infected body to the end of time, we should also be ready to accept that the mind and the spirit will be affected by sin for the equal duration.

It might be considered superfluous to describe wholism found in the Godhead. However, there are signs that this principle is taken too much for granted to the point of being neglected by some. The wholistic integrity must be vigilantly maintained in these most foundational premises. A wholistic approach to understanding the Godhead will not allow for the essential subservience of the Son and the Spirit to the Father. It affirms vigorously the co-equality of the Son and the Spirit with the Father and the individual personality of the Spirit—two aspects which are often neglected in popular thinking. When rigorously maintained, the wholism of the Godhead magnifies the power of the cross by showing that the entire Godhead—the founder and foundation of the universe—suffered for humanity. It erases the notion that Christ was merely a sacrifice and a priest at the cross–while the Father and the Spirit stood by to receive the offering. We find the whole Godhead involved both individually and wholly from the preparation of the victim to the acceptance of the sacrifice, from the shame and suffering of the cross to the glory and grandeur of the resurrection.

The phenomenon of Scripture is another manifestation of the principle of wholism. The nature of Scripture, along with the nature of the incarnate Christ, is the most mysterious subjects to understand, because it represents a union of two whole natures without causing any disharmony. Because of our faithful adherence to wholism of God and humanity in the formation of Scripture, the Adventist understanding of Scripture must stand uniquely apart from other doctrines of the Bible which have arisen with contributions from dualistic views on the human nature. While recognizing that revelation is given by God and comes to humanity in a propositional form, we affirm the co-equal wholistic integration of the divine and the human in the realization of Scripture. Union and cooperation between God and humanity can be seen beyond the process of producing the original document. Through the continuing work of God, revelation is made alive anew in the reading of Scripture by each believer. The Word become flesh once again, and God and the human reader are bound as one once again. Further, by uniting with God through the Word, the reader is united with other believers who have for centuries experienced personal incarnations of the Word. When such a view is held of Scripture, the unbiblical and impossible perfectionism that we ascribe to Scripture is held in check.

Seventh-day Adventists have a decided advantage in understanding the wholistic principle at work in the process of revelation and inspiration thanks to the ministry of Ellen White. We have found through White that divine revelation passes through a human cognitive filter which gives it a form readily discernible by an ordinary human mind. We have also seen that revelation and inspiration are given not to certain individuals, but through these individuals to a community. Revelation is neither truly fulfilled nor made complete without a community to receive it. This fact leads us also to recognize a further need to understand the community and the church to which God revealed Himself, if we want to better understand the phenomena of revelation and inspiration. A wholistic approach to the phenomena of Scripture (and the Spirit of Prophecy) will not merely study the authors or the text; it will also examine the community to which the revelation was given. The whole-ness of the phenomenon of Scripture affirms that Scripture is a joint project of God, the individual author, and the community.

The principle of wholism must now extend to the roaring debate on the human nature of Christ, the eternal Word. We must not further fragment the nature of Christ as to distinguish the divine from the human and the moral-spiritual from the physical. We must re-affirm the wholistic co-existence of the divine and the human natures of Christ and the necessary wholistic composition of the body, mind, and spirit within His human nature. There is a dangerous tendency toward dualism in contemporary Adventist debates on the human nature of Christ where vehement arguments are made on behalf of either the pre-fall or post-fall nature of Christ’s humanity (more so in the eclectic approach of assigning Christ’s moral-spiritual nature as pre-fall and His physical nature as post-fall). We must remember that “the Word became flesh” and that this transformation was real, not merely virtual. No discussion on the nature of Christ can focus on just one of the naturest—the human, as Adventists have been doing for the past forty years—but the whole of Christ—both the divine and the human. Concurrently, we must be ready to re-examine the ancient creedal description of Christ’s nature as fully human and fully divine (the popular 100%+100% equation), while supposedly remaining unpermeated in each nature. Further investigation must be conducted into the exact meaning of this assertion and the implications it has on our wholistic understanding of the human nature. Otherwise, we run the risk of inadvertently portraying the incarnate Christ as a metaphysical schizophrenic.

Though Adventists have not labeled it as “wholistic,” their understanding of the history and the prophecies, replete with types and antitypes, betrays the same principle. We confess that history is not merely a succession of “new” events but is an integral part in the unfolding of the plan of redemption for humanity in the framework of the great controversy between God and Satan. Each moment in human history is either typically or antitypically related to God’s outworking of salvation for humanity.

In light of such an understanding of wholism in the history of redemption, the same approach must also be the guiding force in the Adventist discussions on the atonement and salvation. The traditional method of describing the process of salvation as conversion, justification, sanctification, and glorification, though helpful in many ways, must come to an overhaul. We must admit that the human proclivity to imbalance has resulted in an immoderate emphasis upon either justification or sanctification. Our view of salvation must reflect the overall dynamic and wholistic view of the atonement as, I believe, correctly held by Ellen White. She has indicated that the atonement is what God did, does, and will do for the salvation of humanity.
She seems to understand the process of the atonement not in terms of stages distinct from one another, but as a continuation of God’s perfectly atoning work for humanity each of which is complete in itself but integrative with previous and forthcoming events in the aspects of His work.

Correspondingly, our understanding of salvation must reflect the whole work of God’s atonement in our individual lives. In each step of our spiritual lives, God’s atoning work comes to us in toto, and not in incomplete pieces. We must remember that the work of salvation is not completing a mystery puzzle, but growing in an increasingly fulfilling relationship with God as described beautifully by Ellen White in Christ’s Object Lessons. A wholistic Adventist soteriology sees justification and sanctification in sinners as both synchronic and diachronic phenomena, not merely diachronic. Though spoken of in different terms, they are an inseparable part of God’s singular—yet continuing—act of salvation in and for individual sinners. Also, these concepts are comprehended as after-the-fact abstractions of God’s wholistically salvific work, rather than contemporaneously identifiable events of human experience.

This understanding of salvation is distinct from the bifurcated understanding of salvation that seems to be held by some within Adventism. Some seem to separate justification and sanctification as separate (and antithetical) works of God. Some tend to over-emphasize justification, whereas others stress sanctification at the expense of justfication. It seems to me that only a wholistic approach to the understanding of salvation will provide a proper balance between justification and sanctification and bridge the soteriological tendencies and eschatological tendencies within the Adventist church.

Wholism may also provide assistance to the current state of the Adventist ecclesiology and church polity which are in deep crisis. Though the Adventist church has traditionally styled a “democratic-representative” form of polity based on the principle of the priesthood of believers, it is apparent that the church has become a hierarchy based on clericalism. The division between the clergy and the lay has brought about the deactivation of the latter. As committees of professional clergy and “experts” make important decisions for the entire church, the lay often remain uninvolved and uninformed. The quinquennial General Conference sessions where major substantive decisions of the church used to be made have become a bureaucratic showcase where substantive discussions are impossible (much like the party conventions of the American politics).

In light of the current situation, a wholistic re-emphasis in ecclesiology can aid in the reconciliation of the gap between the clergy and the lay. A re-orientation of the church structure is needed. As the church re-orients its structure, it must constantly seek ways to make all leadership opportunities open to the lay in substantive ways (beyond token efforts) so that the whole of the church can have access to the decision-making process. Specifically, as the church considers the theology of ordination in relation to the ordination of women to pastoral ministry, I would like to urge the church to consider a complete reassessment of the present criteria for ordination. Ordination must be distinguished from both the idea of promotion and denominational employment as a pastor. It cannot be made to depend exclusively academic training in theology, either. To paraphrase Lincoln, the church must, in form and substance, be by the whole, of the whole, and for the whole.

Yet another significant problem related to the present “crisis” in ecclesiology is the relegation of theological activities to theologians. The bureaucratic compartmentalization of the church over the past half-century has led to divisions between the administrators and the theologians and the theologians and the laity. Thus, neither the administrators nor the lay are theologizing any longer; they are increasingly becoming indifferent, even hostile, to theology. There was a time in the Adventist church when Sabbath School classes in local churches were the primary ground for theologizing, but now this important task has been reined in under denominational college religion departments and seminaries and such entities as the Biblical Research Institute.

A wholistic approach to ecclesiology empowers the lay to exercise its right and responsibility to theologize. We ask the theologians of the church to give back to the whole church their monopoly on theology. The current crisis in Adventism seems to be as much about doctrinal disagreements as the struggle over the seat of theological authority. Certainly, theologians must continue their technical formulations of theology. However, the theology produced by the rest of the church—not the consensus of few professional theologians—must provide the substance of what we call Adventist theology. A wholistic view of the church will awaken Adventism to the important task of theologizing as a whole and reveal a true picture of the church as a community not only of priests but also of theologians.

Finally, the theological enterprise itself must indeed reflect the principle of wholism. Beginning with the publication of the book, Questions on Doctrine, in 1957, a notable change in the Adventist theological method took place. Adventists began to represent their beliefs in the language and categories adopted from the evangelical Christian theology. Adventists must be more critical of its adoption of the methods and ideas that they encounter. Perhaps the most representative expositions of Adventist theology in recent years, Seventh-day Adventists Believe. . ., follows the classical method of theological presentation: from objective doctrines (doctrine of revelation, theology proper, Christology, anthropology, hamartology) to subjective doctrines (soteriology, ecclesiology, and eschatology)—without suggesting how the doctrine fit together as a whole. Though many have suggested various principles and themes as the organizing principle of Adventist theology, a wholistic and systematic theology of Adventism remains yet a challenge for the present and the future.

Seventh-day Adventists can more fully exploit the principle of wholism implicit in Scripture and in their theology. It is my firm conviction that (1) approaching all the doctrines and issues of the church according to this principle and (2) resisting the temptation to polarize the discussions or the community itself are the two most important approaches to take toward the current “crisis” in Adventist theology.

Where is Adventism going in the midst of this present crisis? Wherever it is going, but I would like to challenge the church to move, live, breathe, do theology, relate with one another, interact with the world, and worship God in humble recognition that we are merely a part of the whole and that we are in a constant pursuit of that wholeness.

I presented the following paper at the Association of Seventh-day Adventist Historians meeting at Oakwood College on April 20, 2007. It comes from the section in chapter 4 of my doctoral dissertation where I discuss the reactions by Adventists to the book, “Questions on Doctrine.” My dissertation is entitled “Reactions to Seventh-day Adventist Evangelical Conferences and Questions on Doctrine, 1955-1971″ (Andrews University, 2005).

Perhaps no other book has aroused so much controversy in the history of the Seventh-day Adventist Church as the 1957 publication of Seventh-day Adventists Answer Questions on Doctrine. The book was published as both a direct result of and a representative response to the Seventh-day Adventist Evangelical Conferences of 1955-1956, involving Walter Martin and Donald Grey Barnhouse on the evangelical side and a number of General Conference leaders on the Adventist side. Questions on Doctrine was to be the apology par excellence of Adventism.

However, when the book came out, it created a great uproar within and outside the church. Evangelical Protestants found themselves divided on the issue of the acceptability of Seventh-day Adventists as Christians. Adventists, on the other hand, saw within their ranks an even greater division. Although the book received a de facto imprimatur from the General Conference, it generated a passionate dissent concerning the book’s treatment of Christ’s human nature and the atonement. Single-handedly spearheading this protest was M. L. Andreasen, a retired theologian. Determined to have Questions on Doctrine censured and withdrawn, Andreasen campaigned against it, denouncing it as “the most subtle and dangerous error” and “a most dangerous heresy.”

In this paper which comes from Chapter 4 of my Andrews University doctoral dissertation, “Reactions to Seventh-day Adventist Evangelical Conferences and Questions on Doctrine, 1955-1971,” I provide a narrative account of the public and private interactions between Andreasen and Adventist church leaders and draw some general observations on these interactions.

Andreasen’s entry into the conversations over the Adventist-evangelical dialogues and Questions on Doctrine came quite late in the process because he was not one of the 250 Adventist workers selected to give pre-publication review of Questions on Doctrine.

When Andreasen first read Barnhouse’s September 1956 Eternity article, in which he declared Adventism evangelical, the 80-year-old retired theologian became immediately troubled by what he encountered. His concerns centered on Barnhouse’s claims that not only were Adventists denying doctrinal positions attributed to them previously, but also were said to be in the course of changing some of their teachings such as the investigative judgment doctrine. Andreasen was further disturbed by Barnhouse’s declaration that those who opposed the “new position” taken by Adventist leaders belonged to the “‘lunatic fringe,’” and “wild-eyed irresponsibles.”

What actually prompted Andreasen to voice his concerns, however, was Froom’s February 1957 article in Ministry entitled “The Priestly Application of the Atoning Act.” In this article, Froom stated that Christ’s death provided “a complete, perfect, and final atonement for man’s sin” and “a completed act of atonement.”

Upon reading this article Andreasen immediately wrote a five-page response dated February 15, 1957, entitled “The Atonement,” in which he criticized Froom for harboring an “appalling theology” and mascarading it as Adventist doctrine. Andreasen’s central concern was that Froom had put the cross event and the post-1844 heavenly event “in juxtaposition and on the same basis” which resulted in a “shallow and confused” understanding of the atonement. In concluding the diatribe against Froom’s article, Andreasen expressed the deep apprehension that he felt toward the Adventist-evangelical conferences, the articles by Barnhouse and Martin, and the planned publication of Questions on Doctrine: “Adventists will not permit any man or group of men to make a ‘creed’ for them, and tell them what to believe. Too much is at stake. The present procedure is likely to bring results unlooked for. To some it looks like the Omega so long foretold. Some of our brethren, in order to be considered orthodox, have compromised our position.” If the forthcoming book is to contain what Froom claimed to be the Adventist view of the atonement, Andreasen threatened in his April 2 letter to Froom, “I shall feel compelled to protest with pen and voice to the limit of my ability.” “And remember,” he intoned, “there are yet seven thousand in Israel that have not bowed their knees to Baal, nor gone with the ark to Ekron, nor seeking counsel or advice there.”

So began Andreasen’s campaign to invalidate the view of atonement presented in Froom’s February 27 Ministry article, to prevent the publication of Questions on Doctrine, and—after the release of the book—to protest what he viewed to be apostasy and heresy proclaimed in it. On October 15, just as Questions on Doctrine was rolling off the press, Andreasen issued a document entitled “A Review and a Protest.” “If the sacrifice on the cross is complete, perfect, final,” he wrote, “our doctrine of the sanctuary, of the investigative judgment, of the 2300 days, all will fall to the ground and also Sister White’s leadership. This is the most subtle and dangerous error that I know of.”

Having now committed himself to a protest campaign, Andreasen began issuing a series of manuscripts entitled “The Atonement,” following the title of his first manuscript of February 15 and numbered retroactively to that document. Between November 4, 1957, and March 13, 1958, he fired off seven more papers, striking each time at the section on the atonement in Questions on Doctrine. During this time, the only concern he had with the book was with “the section on the Atonement” which he deemed “utterly unacceptable.” As for the rest of the book, he actually commended it as containing “so many good things . . . that may be of real help to many.”

During the same period, the epistolary joust between Andreasen and Figuhr continued. Figuhr responded to Andreasen by refuting his attack on Questions on Doctrine. He denied that the book made Christ’s heavenly sanctuary ministry unnecessary, but simply emphasized “the atoning sacrifice of Christ” in its rightful place in the process of atonement. He pointed out that even Andreasen himself agreed in his Book of Hebrews that Christ “‘accomplished’” and “‘finished His work as victim and sacrifice.’” In reply, Andreasen retorted that Figuhr had not adequately understood the doctrine of the atonement which “is a most profound and delicate subject, one that is not comprehended in a moment or a year.” Hinting strongly that he should have been consulted in the composition of the section on the atonement, he reminded Figuhr that “it takes years and years of concentrated study, which your advisers have not given to it.”

Andreasen’s letter and continued agitation led the General Conference officers to issue a formal letter of admonishment and a demand to cease his activities. In communicating this decision, Figuhr chided Andreasen for inciting confusion in the church. It was Andreasen who was creating “Omegas,” not the General Conference, Figuhr wrote—“Omegas of confusion, misunderstanding and destructiveness that undermine the church of God.” In another letter, dated December 16, 1957, Figuhr stepped up pressure on Andreasen to cease his campaign by implying that his sustentation might be affected: “You are doing yourself great harm and bringing confusion and perplexity to the cause. You should not now be tearing down what, through the years, you have helped to build up. To see a retired worker, supported by sustentation of his church, actively opposing that church and breaking down confidence in its leadership, cannot but make one feel very sad.”

Though Figuhr did not make a direct connection between Andreasen’s activities and continuation of his sustentation, the threat implicit in this letter provoked a sharp response by the elderly theologian. “Your ukase that my continued activities will undoubtedly bring up my relationship to the church of course means that my credentials and sustentation will or may be revoked,” he shot back. “This is a good and forceful argument; but in the United States of America it is a cheap and silly one. It may be effective in cowing inferiors, time servers, slaves, but not men. And of course it is a psychological mistake. Denominationally it is illegal.” Then in the seething tone of a deeply hurt and anguishing soul, he wrote:

“I am a man of peace. I can be reasoned with. But no man can threaten me and expect to avoid the consequences. So I hope you will not renege on your threat, but will carry through. . . . You have threatened me. . . . You have disqualified yourselves by judging without a hearing; the next higher authority is the people. You are upholding the Ministry [sic] which is destroying confidence in the Spirit of Prophecy, watering down the Testimonies, telling plain untruths, etc. On this there can be no compromise. You say the matter is settled, you have closed the door. The matter is not settled and never can be with a threat.”

Then, in a tone filled with intrigue and suspicion, he warned whoever else might be reading the letter: “The observant reader will not have failed to see that the threat is aimed at him [the reader] as much as at me. In fact I am a minor consideration. The real aim is to intimidate others from following my example. Washington is threatening the whole working force of the denomination and using me as an example of what will happen if others should wish to protest.” Finally, Andreasen’s letter of protest turned to one of incitation for open rebellion against the church: “So this is a warning from me to make sure where you stand if you join in the protest. It may cost you much. Our leaders—some of them—have become our masters, and are ready to bear down on any that objects.”

As the new year of 1958 dawned, Adventists leaders across North America were abuzz in reaction to the sharp, rancorous pitch of Andreasen’s most recent letter, with some suggesting that the elderly theologian might be suffering from “a mental ailment.” In early February 1958, however, a potential for breakthrough in the controversy opened up when Andreasen agreed to a meeting the church’s headquarters in Washington, D.C. A far more subdued Andreasen wrote Figuhr: “I am ready to come in good faith” with one condition that “the hearing be public, OR that a stenographer be present and that [he] be given a copy of the minutes.”

The General Conference officers responded quickly to Andreasen’s letter and voted on February 10 to invite him at the church’s expense to the denominational headquarters for a meeting with a specially appointed committee of twelve—all senior church leaders, including Figuhr. In coming to this decision, the officers determined that the meeting was not to be a public hearing, but they stipulated that all the statements would “be taken down on tape and recorded, both for the committee and Elder Andreasen.” Figuhr communicated this news to Andreasen on the same day and suggested February 25 as the date for the meeting.

With this latest exchange of letters, hope for a peaceful resolution to the conflict seemed suddenly within reach, but what transpired thereafter over the course of the following three months to derail this plan remains a rather perplexing chapter in Adventist history. Andreasen was willing to come for the proposed February 25 meeting in Washington, except that his wife fell suddenly ill and was hospitalized. Hence, he requested that the meeting be postponed for “four or five weeks.”

In the intervening time, a big misunderstanding over how the meeting would be recorded led to the cancellation of the postponed meeting. Though the General Conference officers had voted that the meeting “be taken down on tape and recorded, both for the committee and Elder Andreasen,” Figuhr had only stated in his February 10 letter that a tape recording would be made, but not whether Andreasen would be given a copy of the minutes. So on February 21 Andreasen sought a clear answer to this question. “[A copy of the minutes] is necessary,” he wrote, “for in any discussion of what is said or not said, it will be my word against that of twelve.” “I must have a copy of the minutes,” he insisted. “This is the condition upon which I come.” However, Figuhr, as seen in his subsequent letters, misunderstood Andreasen’s demand as wanting a copy of the audiotape recording, not just a written transcript of the meeting. Ultimately, this misunderstanding led to Andreasen breaking off the agreement to meet. Because each side was deeply distrustful of the other, the seemingly less consequential “technicality” over how the record of their meeting would be taken and made available derailed a meeting that potentially might have saved the controversy from spinning out of control to the degree that it did over the following years and decades.

Thus from April 1958 and on, the relationship between Andreasen and the General Conference continued to deteriorate until the very end of the senior theologian’s life. On May 1, Andreasen fired off a letter to Figuhr accusing him of prevarication and requested formally a public hearing on the Adventist-evangelical conferences, activities of those involved with the conferences, and the content of Questions on Doctrine. Beginning with this letter, Andreasen for the first time broadened his focus beyond the issue of the atonement. He continued in his open letters of May 15 and June 4, charging Questions on Doctrine with removing or changing a number of the “pillars” of Adventist theology such as the teachings on the mark of the beast, the human nature of Christ, the investigative judgment, and Ellen White.

In spite of the resumption of open letters and the harsh rhetoric contained in each, one final, albeit perfunctory, overture was made by the General Conference to explore the possibility of a reconciliation meeting. Between May 13 and July 24, seven letters were exchanged between the General Conference officers and Andreasen. In response to Andreasen’s demand for a public hearing, Figuhr offered a hearing at the General Conference Committee. Andreasen scoffed at the notion that appearing before this committee—a large but closed group—could constitute a public hearing and insisted the meeting be completely open to the public—just as Martin Luther’s trial in Worms was made public.

Then in February 1959, Andreasen initiated a new series of missives called Letters to the Churches, with the help of a printer in Oregon named A. L. Hudson. Even before joining with Andreasen, he began protesting independently against “the head-long retreat” that the book was taking toward apostasy in the area of Christ’s human nature—predating Andreasen’s criticisms by half a year.

Along with the nine-part series entitled “The Atonement,” the six-part Letters to the Churches became Andreasen’s lasting theological legacy from this era. The six documents released at various times throughout 1959 contained not only Andreasen’s key criticisms of Questions on Doctrine, but also accounts of his struggle against the book and the church during this time period. Letters to the Churches contained Andreasen’s treatises on Christ’s human nature, Ellen White, the atonement and narratives of his recent challenges against the General Conference in which he raised questions about the doctrinal integrity and moral authority of the leaders. Except for the sections on Christ’s human nature, the content of the letters was not new. Most sections of the letters were condensed and polished versions of the “Atonement” series.

Andreasen’s key concern regarding the human nature of Christ was that the new book presented Christ’s incarnation as a man who was radically different from all other human beings, contrary to what he believed to be the orthodox Adventist position. Andreasen believed that Christ was born in the flesh with exactly the same set of tendencies to sin as all other human beings. Christ’s victory over sin in spite of his innate sinful tendencies was the cornerstone on which Andreasen had built his doctrine of the final atonement and the last generation. The last generation on earth would consist of a group of God’s people who would demonstrate to the universe that it is possible to keep the law of God and live a sinless life.

When Andreasen read the statement on p. 383 of Questions on Doctrine which indicated that Christ was “exempt from the inherited passions and pollutions that corrupt the natural descendant of Adam,” he interpreted the word “passion” as the sum total of “man’s emotions.” Working with this definition, Andreasen argued that to exempt a person from passions would be to take away “all temptations that incite men to action” which “results in a creature less than a man, a kind of no-man, a shadow man, a non-entity . . . .” Thus, Andreasen contended, to state that Christ was exempt from the passions of humankind would be to rob him of his true and complete humanity—and his last generation teachings of its theological basis. The notion “that God exempted Christ from the passions that corrupt men” was for Andreasen “the acme of all heresy” brought in through the Adventist-evangelical conferences.

The General Conference administration responded immediately in February 1959 through a statement to union and local conference presidents in North America. In reference to Andreasen and Letters to the Churches, Figuhr wrote, “his evident purpose is to stir up trouble.” As such, Figuhr did not encourage “creating a great issue over the matter,” as Andreasen “would welcome it.” His continuing position on this matter was that Andreasen would soon blow off all steam and simmer down. At the same time, Figuhr attached Heppenstall’s March 3, 1959, letter to Andreasen to help administrators answer potential questions arising from Andreasen’s attacks.

At the same time, efforts were continually being made on a personal level to dissuade Andreasen from prolonging the controversy. On one occasion, R. R. Bietz, president of the Southern California Conference, asked Figuhr if Andreasen could be encouraged to “prepare a manuscript on the Atonement [sic] without any reference to any controversy” to “keep him busy” and “keep his mind off other things,” such as continuing to challenge church leaders. Figuhr was happy to follow this course of action. This manuscript, if Andreasen would manage to make it acceptable to the leaders, would be published by a denominational publishing house and both sides would be able to save face. Andreasen would be able to state his beliefs and have them published by the church, while the leaders would not need to change anything in Questions on Doctrine. Bietz worked hard to convince Andreasen that “this might be a tremendous contribution that he could make to the denomination,” but Andreasen was non-responsive to the suggestion.

By June 1960, all hope of reconciliation was extinguished and the dialogues came to an insurmountable impasse. Andreasen felt the leaders of the church were united in compromise and apostasy—unwilling to listen to his voice of reason and truth. The leaders felt that all public and private overtures toward Andreasen had been exhausted and that the church was in need of a strong theological response to his charges. It fell upon A. V. Olson to provide such a response—a comprehensive theological critique of Andreasen’s writings. Olson’s document, entitled “An Examination of M. L. Andreasen’s Objections to the Book Seventh-day Adventists Answer Questions on Doctrine,” was the most complete defense of the church leaders’ position that appeared during this period, providing rebuttals to eight major objections submitted by Andreasen from 1957 through 1960. In each of his refutations against Andreasen, Olson sought to demonstrate that Andreasen was self-contradictory and out of harmony with the inspired writings that he purported to defend.

The interactions that took place between Andreasen and the church leaders in the final year of the retired theologian’s life were as tumultuous as those that took place in the preceding four years. In his rejoinder to Olson entitled “A Most Dangerous Heresy,” Andreasen reiterated his grievances against Questions on Doctrine. In a departure from his observation three years earlier that “only the section on the Atonement [sic] . . . is unacceptable and must be recalled,” he now claimed that it was the book’s stance on the human nature of Christ that was the most reprehensible.

Upon completion of this paper, Andreasen sent it to Figuhr in October 1960 along with a letter that would lead to the removal of his ministerial credentials. In that letter Andreasen demanded “an open, public trial, before an impartial jury and a competent judge” in which he—acting as the prosecutor—would proceed to “place an impeachment against [Figuhr] and others.” This letter, sent just before the Autumn Council of the General Conference Committee, convinced Figuhr that Andreasen had indeed gone too far and that the church had been patient enough. Figuhr resolved now to “at least suspend the credentials” that Andreasen held. Figuhr’s desire to suspend Andreasen’s credentials at the Autumn Council was held back, however, due to opposition from the North American union conferences who felt that they “should be more longsuffering.”

But when the General Conference Committee met the following year for its Spring Council, the leaders were ready to vote to suspend Andreasen’s credentials. Andreasen had not let up on his attacks against the church and its leadership, circulating at least three more open letters throughout North America, accusing church leaders of neglecting the doctrinal pillars, colluding with evangelicals toward apostasy, crushing and demonizing dissent, and publishing and promoting heretical, apostate teachings throughout the church. On April 5, 1961, the Spring Council voted to “suspend the credentials of M. L. Andreasen until such time as he can manifest a better spirit of unity and harmony.”

The final ten months of Andreasen’s life—between the suspension of his ministry credentials and his death on February 19, 1962—continued to be eventful. As soon as he was informed of the suspension, Andreasen visited Bietz who had recently been elected as the president of the Pacific Union Conference. Without indicating exactly what he wanted from the church, Andreasen talked to Bietz about his plan to release “damaging material to the public press” and to “enlarge his activities.” This proved to be an unfulfilled threat, but Andreasen continued the same course of periodically distributing open letters, though now the protestation of his suspension took center stage. In these letters, Andreasen pointed out what he viewed to be illegal about the General Conference Committee’s decision to suspend him. At the end of the one letter, he wrote a note to Figuhr telling him to beware. “I never give up,” he wrote.

As stubborn and belligerent as he appeared to be at times, Andreasen did not allow his suspension to sever his ongoing, albeit tumultuous, dialogue with Bietz, Figuhr, and other church leaders. In May 1961, another face-to-face meeting took place between Figuhr, Andreasen, and Bietz in southern California during which they were able to converse “in a friendly fashion.” During this conversation, Andreasen indicated that he had stopped sending out letters and wished that his credentials would be restored. In light of this unexpected positive development, Andreasen and Figuhr agreed to draft separate promissory statements that would be agreeable to the other side. The statement drafted by Figuhr spelled out the process of restoring Andreasen’s credentials. It stated that the credentials would be returned to Andreasen after he ceases to circulate documents and forbids others from distributing them. At this point, had Andreasen given even a nominal assent to this statement, his credentials would most likely have been restored in a short time. But he began insisting that the church return his credentials back to him before he ceased activities related to criticizing the church.

Disappointed yet again by the church leaders, Andreasen composed a document entitled “A Protest against the Secret Trial of M. L. Andreasen” on July 2, 1961. In this document, Andreasen narrated once again how he came to protest Questions on Doctrine and charged that the process that the church leaders took to suspend his credentials lacked “fundamental justice.” As he concluded, however, he indicated that the document would not be sent out and directed his attention solely upon Figuhr, calling on him to repent of the wrongs he had committed toward Andreasen and the church. At that point, he had rather pungent words for Figuhr: “I have it in my power to ruin you completly [sic]. I have no intention to do that, if you turn and make amend. But I am of a mind to go all the way unless you undo the evil you have done.”

In his response, Figuhr simply urged the elder theologian to follow through with the plan that they verbally agreed upon in May: “I cherish the hope, Brother Andreasen, that we can arrive at a friendly understanding and move forward in an atmosphere of confidence.” He then indicated that the officers were quite willing to revoke the suspension of credentials if Andreasen would only agree to cessation of activities that they felt were disruptive and divisive.

But on August 2, Andreasen penned another letter which basically served as the rejection notice to Figuhr’s plea for reconciliation. Andreasen took the Adventist Church Manual’s procedure for disfellowshiping members as the norm for all disciplinary actions in the church and strongly criticized the manner in which he was suspended. He demanded a new trial in which he could present evidence and witnesses and defend his position. But in his response, Figuhr pointed out that Andreasen had made a bad comparison as the basis for his reasoning: “There is a wide difference between the disfellowshiping of a church member and temporarily suspending the credentials of a worker.” Furthermore, Figuhr insisted that the primary concern for the General Conference officers was how Andreasen propagated his ideas rather than what he was teaching: “The brethren do not ask that you necessarily retract what you have said, although they are not in agreement with your statements, but they simply want the assurance that, since you have already ceased circulating your material, you do not propose to continue it.”

When Andreasen continued in his defiance and resumed distribution of more open letters, the General Conference Committee voted to further censure him by removing his name from the list of retired workers in the 1962 Yearbook. The committee, however, voted not to withhold sustentation from Andreasen in consideration of his age and health.

While this latest decision was being made at the Autumn Council of the General Conference Committee, Andreasen was on the verge of making another attempt at reconciliation with the church, which raised the hopes of the leaders once again. In a remarkable show of capitulation, he wrote: “I do not wish to argue this matter now. . . . There is a point beyond which protest against what the leaders have done fail [sic] to do any good. I think that point has been reached now. . . . I think I have protested enough, perhaps too much, and that I can safely let God do His work without my help.”

Then, “as a basis for negotiations” and “discussion,” Andreasen suggested that in the future he would communicate with three or more officers of the church, if he felt he had warnings or messages from God. “I feel . . . that I have spoken to the church,” he remarked, “and hence suggest that if I have any further word, I confine myself to some of the chief officers.”

The receipt of this letter elated Figuhr as he wrote back: “I believe, Brother Andreasen, we are on the way to a better understanding and relationships [sic], now that you have come to the conclusion to confine your writing to some three or four individuals of the General Conference.” But back from Andreasen came a completely unexpected reply. In what became his last letter to Figuhr, Andreasen charged that the General Conference president had “completely misread” him and had attributed to him ideas that were not present in his letter. Apparently, while Figuhr had interpreted Andreasen to be proposing unilateral cessation of activities, Andreasen had meant the letter to be merely suggestive—“a basis of discussion” and “negotiation.” For Andreasen this misunderstanding was another evidence of Figuhr’s imperial attitude toward him. “You have decided not to discuss, not to negotiate,” he wrote Figuhr. Hence, he told Figuhr, “I accept your decision that you will not discuss nor negotiate.” Finally, he stated emphatically, “I WILL BE HEARD.”

Indeed, Andreasen was determined to be heard, but his voice was being continually weakened by the deterioration of his health. He did manage to get at least two more documents out, but by early February, faced with a dramatic decline of his health, Andreasen sought to find peace and reconciliation with his church and asked for a visit by Figuhr. On February 16, Figuhr and Bietz visited Andreasen who was hospitalized at Glendale Sanitarium and Hospital. During this meeting the three men discussed frankly the issues of Andreasen’s activities of the previous five years, his suspended credentials and removal from the Yearbook, and financial arrangements for his wife after his death. Andreasen assured the visiting leaders that he did not desire to “engage in any activity which would harm the church” and showed regret over any “doubt and confusion” that his recent writings might have created. He further expressed his desire that his letters and pamphlets not be duplicated for distribution—a message directed especially to “offshoots” of Adventism. Through this conversation, the three men were reconciled. This meeting was especially important for Andreasen because even as he was so deeply agitated by Questions on Doctrine and the General Conference, he wanted to be reconciled to his church. His widow, Gladys, stated that Andreasen had “spent many nights sobbing his heart out” regarding being so estranged from the church. But after this meeting, she reported, he was able to die a “happy” man. Three days after his meeting with Figuhr and Bietz, on February 19, Andreasen died at the age of 85.

On March 1, 1962, the General Conferences Committee voted to revoke its former action to suspend Andreasen’s credentials. It also voted to put his name back on the list of the retired workers in the Yearbook. In addition, the church entered into a financial arrangement with Gladys Andreasen in which she would receive some denominational service credit for the time she accompanied her husband in his speaking ministry. Also, she would receive a generous amount for Andreasen’s funeral expenses and the sale of his entire library to the General Conference.

Thus ended Andreasen’s five-year struggle against Questions on Doctrine and the General Conference. However, the struggle over many of the issues raised in Andreasen’s attacks as well as in his books of the 1930s and 1940s has continued well beyond his death. His final five years made him a pitied figure who lost the high respect he commanded from his active years as a professor and administrator. Many in 1962 viewed those last few years as a period in which Andreasen ruined his own good name by championing what they considered to be a lost cause. However, the theological developments of the past five decades have shown that it is because of—not in spite of—the last five years of Andreasen’s life that Adventists have come to be so significantly impacted by his teachings. Whatever one might feel about Andreasen, his writings and the theology therein—whether appealing or not—continue to impact the faith and beliefs of Seventh-day Adventists worldwide.

Unfortunately, in the process of uploading my files here, I lost all my footnotes. My apologies!

If you’re interested in purchasing a copy of my dissertation, email me at: jjnam@llu.edu. In response to inquires about my dissertation, I’m getting 150 copies printed for the upcoming QOD 50th Anniversary Conference.

The following is the text of my response to the series of presentations entitled, “Adventism’s Futures” by Malcolm Bull and Keith Lockhart (authors of Seeking a Sanctuary: Seventh-day Adventism and the American Dream) on September 29, 2007, at the Adventist Forum Conference held in Santa Rosa, California.

Malcolm and Keith, thank you very much for being here, for being engaged in conversation with us, and, of course, for your book. Your new edition is as compelling and captivating as your first edition was when I encountered it as a senior religion major at Andrews. Adventism, to me, was very much an either/or proposition at that point. It was, for example, either you read the prophecies as Uriah Smith did or you really had no business in being Adventist, much less an Adventist pastor. Either you take Ellen White seriously as a prophet and obey her counsels as God’s continuing mandate for your life, or you live the rest of your life fighting her and feeling guilty for it. Either…, I don’t think I need to go on. There weren’t very many appealing options within Adventism. I could not accept what was presented to me as normative Adventism. I did not want to live the rest of my life bitter, angry, yet faking it. I’d rather leave Adventism than live the rest of my life worrying about others finding out what doubts I had in my closet and what theological aberrations I hid beneath my mattress. Was there some other way of being Adventist and being real and true to who I was and who I was becoming?

In August 1992, as I was walking out of Pioneer Memorial Church on Andrews campus with a master’s degree in religion, I did walk out that revolving door for what ended up being a rumspringa in Paris. But for some reason, your book was one of a handful Adventist-related books I brought along—and when I was ready to re-engage with God, faith and Adventism, it was instrumental in showing me that there can be other ways of understanding Adventism and that Adventism as a culture and a historical phenomenon was worth taking seriously. In the process, I walked down a new path of discovering what I could become within Adventism and what Adventism could become in the world. In the midst of my struggle between finding my sanctuary within Adventism and needing to seek a sanctuary from Adventism, your book eventually helped me to find new reasons for remaining Adventist and creating new possibilities within Adventism by demonstrating a third way of engaging with Adventism.

And it is that third way that I’d like to dwell on a bit in the next few minutes.

I must say that my reaction to the new edition of your book wasn’t quite the same. I’m now at a different place in life with a different set of issues and struggles. My questions no longer revolve around whether to accept Adventism or abandon it, but around how to relate with the complexity of Adventism and the variety of Adventisms and how to involve my community, especially the generation younger than me (given what I do and consider to be my calling), with the larger world.

As delicious and delightful your book was also this time around, I found that the sociological determinism, and even fatalism, that seems to underlie your thesis and the sympathetic cynicism toward the process of Adventism’s theological development frustrating and at times even annoying. I know that that’s not a very scholarly way to describing my visceral reaction, but there it is.

I didn’t like it. So, I found myself thinking about why you might have left Adventism and have chosen to return to it as an observer, why you cared so much about Adventism to spend obviously thousands of hours researching and analyzing the revolving door and the crumbling edifice in your rear-view mirror. Surely, there are other ways to make money than writing books on Adventism. But it’s got to be more than that, right?

Then, I began thinking about why I chose to stay (in part helped by your book, I might add) and why many of us in this room are choosing to stay. And I also wondered about why I’m reacting viscerally and defensively.

And I think I understand why. Eighteen years ago, you caught me gazing at the rhythmic swishing of the revolving door and pondering what direction to take. And as you astutely argue, it is a real door. No question about that. But now, I’m no longer at the door but somewhere inside working on the house. (I can only use this analogy away from home, because my family would roll their eyes if they heard this.)

There’s more to Adventism than the revolving door, the theological turf wars, the institutional malaise, and the massive missiological machine. You’ve documented many, many features of Adventism and provided us with brilliant insights that will no doubt get us talking for decades to come. But I can’t shake the sense that you’ve discounted true believers and devoted members of the household who, according to your thesis, should be in the pre-exit phase of their Adventist experience but are up there in the attic, down in the basement, underneath the kitchen sink—working. It’s not that we don’t know what’s going on in the world; it’s not that we can’t make it out in the world; it’s not that we don’t understand the socio-anthropological dynamics and dysfunctionalities that continue to shape and inform our community. Yet we’ve stayed and have chosen to reaffirm our commitment to this church for reasons that reach far beyond the need for a biweekly paycheck, reputation, social advancement and psychosocial balance. I don’t deny that these are all important factors. For example, it often is a big time ego trip to be a minister, a professor, and a “famous” blogger—one who’s portrayed in a play, writes articles for various journals, and gets asked to give a response to a groundbreaking book written by a distinguished journalist and an Oxford professor. But I’m also doing this right now, because I believe in Adventism and its future. We’re here right now listening to you and interacting with you because we believe in Adventism and its mission. I wish that you had given us more credit for joining and remaining in Adventism because of, as you note in one place, the simple “beauty of the truth” that is in Adventism—though we may differ widely on what is truly beautiful about the truth as conceived by Adventism.

While we’re on the subject of giving credit, I wish that you had given more credit to what today’s Adventists are doing to re-define, expand and re-appropriate its identity and beliefs and less credit to the supposed adroitness with which Adventism’s pioneers re-appropriated Americanism. “Our pioneers just weren’t that clever and cunning,” I thought as I read your book this time around. I felt that you may have missed the opportunity to step back a little from your original thesis and let up a little on the relentless demonstration of the thesis—to show a greater appreciation for the changing face and heart of Adventism and the emerging complexity within Adventism.

What’s exciting for me about being an Adventist today and even more about Adventism’s future is Adventism’s capacity for re-appropriation. All the problems you’ve identified and warnings that you’ve placed in our hearts concerning the future are real. At the same time, as an educated Asian immigrant on the West Coast, at Loma Linda in particular, thus very medicated, I mean, medicalized, who is deeply interested in historical scholarship on Adventism and social justice and political engagement as we head toward the year 2100 (did I cover everything you talked about in the last hour?), I’m encouraged that Adventism itself is being further re-appropriated as a movement that seeks to create a sanctuary, I mean, sanctuaries, for the world from here to eternity through the expansion of our Sabbath ethic throughout society, through our witness of peace both during and between wars, through our attention to issues of equality in gender (as a feminine movement, as you note), race and ethnicity (as the world’s most diverse religious community), and class (as a global family that includes the world’s most indigent to the most affluent). For sure, the problems are there. But I don’t think our problems can either define us or detract us from what we believe in, hope for, and have been called to do. The very real issues that you’ve so brilliantly identified for us, Malcolm and Keith, can be the foundation and resource of our strength in the 21st century. So, thank you for helping to set the agenda for the next century!

Frankly, I’m not too concerned about the revolving door and the self-interest that is part of drive into and within Adventism. It’s not that I don’t care. Just not too concerned. What would be the acceptable rate of apostasy or attrition? Would I really be happy with 100% retention rate? 90%? 80%? Would that be a healthy thing? In a backhanded sort of a way, perhaps the 40-50% retention rate of North American Adventism may be the very sign that Adventism has come of age—that it is no longer a sect, but a mature community. At the same time, I would consider re-defining retention and apostasy. One of the moving moments in last night’s Red Books performance for me was the part when Tim the Badventist (and a fifth-generation Adventist) says: “I’ve been to a thousand camp meetings, but you’ll never find me colporteuring.…. Intelligent design is a joke, and once in a while I’d like to get down….” He wonders out loud whether he can still claim the label “SDA” as a non-church-goer. He may be out the revolving door for you, but I for one would claim him as an Adventist whether his name is in the church books or not. As a pastor and a teacher, my hope is that even if my students are not in physical attendance at an Adventist church, their Adventist education and the value inculcated in them through their Adventist experience will have had sufficient meaning for them that those basic values would always be part of their self-understanding. They may no longer be a regular member at an Adventist church. But they would still be part of the Adventist world because they practice and personally appropriate Adventist perspectives and philosophy. The church will always be there for them, and part of our task is that if and when they return through that revolving door, we would have kept up with our honest engagement with our heritage and the world that we would have grown along with them and that they would be find a room of their own. We’ve got to widen our notion and conception of Adventism and include those who have been significantly touched and shaped by Adventism—and those who are engaged with us in meaningful ways. Just because Tim is out of the door does not mean that he has left the Adventist world.

In that sense, you—Malcolm and Keith—I would consider you to be still Adventists. Obviously, you care about Adventism so much. You may be outside the revolving door, but you’re part of our world. So I still claim you as our own—as fellow travelers, better yet, brothers, in this journey.

I can’t fully understand how it looks from where you’re standing, but I believe Adventism’s entering into a beautiful and exciting time when our community—helped by individuals such as you, Keith and Malcolm, and your book—is becoming and growing into a movement of sanctuary providers not just for ourselves, but also for the world.