At the Adventist Society for Religious Studies annual meeting that took place on November 15-17 in San Diego, I presented the following paper during the session entitled “Adventism and Community: Sociocultural Dimensions.” ASRS maintains a web presence at http://www.lasierra.edu/sor/asrs.
Gilmore Girls, a popular Tuesday night dramedy on the CW channel that concluded its run last spring after seven successful seasons, features an Adventist mother-daughter duo as key supporting characters to another mother-daughter duo, Lorelai and Rory Gilmore, the title characters. Mrs. Young-Ja Kim and her daughter, Lane, are Korean Seventh-day Adventists who live in a fictional town called Stars Hollow in Connecticut.
Mrs. Kim and Lane are part of a quirky mix that makes up the cast of this dramedy. Mrs. Kim is a first-generation immigrant antique store owner whose über-fundamentalist Adventist religiosity provides fodder for comic relief but social and emotional pain for her daughter. Lane is the best friend of Rory Gilmore and an aspiring drummer who forms her own rock band. She loves boys, junk food, and movies—all banned by her mom. She finds herself torn between the rigid religious world ruled by her mother and the fun, “normal” world inhabited by Rory and the townsfolk.
Fairly Odd People
From the first episode that premiered in fall 2000, the Kims are portrayed as being different and isolated from the rest of the people of Stars Hollow—stranger than other odd characters that populate the town. Contributing also to the sense of otherness are their immigrant characteristics.
The peculiarity of the Kims’ religiosity is highlighted in the comically rigid observance of the lifestyle regulations of Adventism, enforced unapologetically by Mrs. Kim. Complementing her high strict standards is her no-nonsense, outright rude demeanor.
Meet Mrs. Kim as she’s introduced in the first episode. She greets Lane and Rory after school: “Go upstairs. . . . I have muffins—no dairy, no sugar, no wheat. You have to soak them in tea to make them soft enough to bite but they’re very healthy. So, how was school? None of the girls get pregnant, drop out?” (season 1, episode 1). When she sees Lane eating a Snickers bar, she snatches it away and pronounces solemn judgment upon the half-eaten snack: “That is chocolate covered death.” (season 1, episode 4). When Lane gets her a perfume as a present, she calls it “smelly sex juice . . . to lure boys with” and sends Lane to Bible camp all summer (season 1, episode 10).
When it is time for Lane to apply to colleges, she can only apply to conservative Christian colleges, including a host of Adventist colleges where boys and girls cannot sit together, dancing, gum chewing and bowling are banned (season 3, episode 4), and astronomy is not taught since “that would imply that the universe is old” (season 4, episode 11). In the end, Lane enrolls at an Adventist college in Hartford, Connecticut (season 3, episode 20).
Adventism, as portrayed in Gilmore Girls, is a very strict religious group that is out of touch with the mores and practices of contemporary society. The peculiarities of Adventists’ lifestyle standards set them apart from society so much that they lead isolated lives of self-righteousness.
Lane’s World
While Mrs. Kim seems quite content with living in a self-contained world with minimal meaningful interactions with the larger world, Lane lives in high tension between the two worlds. From the first season, the viewers discover that Lane is essentially living two lives with the evidence of the outside world—her huge CD collection—tucked carefully beneath the floor and in hidden compartments of her closet (season 1, episode 14).
However, frustration mounts to a breaking point where she decides to take a stand against her mother. “I’ve spent my whole life compromising and being the good little girl and not doing what I want,” she announces. “Or doing what I want and hiding it and feeling guilty for doing it, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of it” (season 3, episode 4). Finally, as she is about graduate from high school, Lane gets drunk at a party where her band performed and calls her mother to tell her everything, ending her call with: “The charade is over” (season 3, episode 19).
This plotline that traces Lane’s maturation toward self-determination shows clearly the show’s bias against strong sectarianism that is seen as restrictive and exclusionary. As the story continues, each of Lane’s decisions to move away from her Adventist roots is celebrated. That move is a path toward a more normal, desirable existence. And Mrs. Kim has no choice but to go along and accept her daughter’s decisions.
The Education of Mrs. Kim
The growth that Mrs. Kim experiences from the intolerant, hyper-sectarian attitude to a more tolerant, charitable one is an important plotline for Gilmore Girls.
When Mrs. Kim discovers that Lane is dating her fellow band member, Zach, she assumes that they are sleeping together and lashes out at Zach: “You! You dirty, filthy devil boy! You will pay for this. You will burn in hellfire for this! You will swim in the sludge with Satan’s hell-dogs, and feed them your innards for eternity! . . . You put your hands on Lane! My Lane! And before God, I swear that you will be punished. Because that is what happens to all swine that walk up tall!” (season 5, episode 8). If Mrs. Kim had things her way, Lane would be dating someone like Young Chui who “works for his father who builds Adventist hospitals,” “will go to college at Loma Linda University,” and “will return to work for his father building Adventist hospitals” (season 3, episode 12). But gradually the relationship between the mother and the daughter improves, as Mrs. Kim comes to grudgingly accept, at least tolerate, Zach.
Mrs. Kim’s growth toward tolerance is accompanied by the introduction of minor characters who are religious and quite normal. The Adventist pastor and the rabbi make occasional appearances from season 3, and they both are tolerant, intelligent and cultured characters who share the same building for services at different times, like to crack self-deprecating jokes, and enjoy good movies. Another Adventist pastor character makes an appearance in the show during Lane’s band’s tour of East Coast Adventist churches. At the end of one such concert in Massachusetts, Zach thanks the pastor for “letting us rock the gym here at Whitfield Seventh-day Adventist church.” Then, Gil the lead singer says, “Got into some very heavy talk with the pastor about my soul and Ecclesiastes and stuff after sound check, and I gotta say, if Christ comes back in fulfillment of prophecy, he’s going to be hooking up with you first, dude, ‘cause you are awesome!” (season 6, episode 3).
The education of Mrs. Kim reaches its climax in the last two seasons as she comes around to accept Lane for who she is and what she chooses to do. After Lane has broken up with Zach and spent six weeks back at home grieving the loss of the relationship, Mrs. Kim sits Lane down, closes all the blinds and curtains, and brings out alcohol and two shot glasses. She pours a shot into each glass and says, “It’s been six weeks since you come home. You have grieved, and now we move on.” All Lane can say at this sudden revelation of a new, “cool” side of her mother is: “Whoa!” (season 6, episode 11).
Few episodes later, Zach and Lane patch things up, and, in fact, decide to get married (season 6, episode 16). In the next episode, Zach nervously approaches Mrs. Kim alone to break the news. As he announces his intentions, he produces a recommendation letter from his employer and a bank statement. But all Mrs. Kim wants to see is a demo of Zach’s music, since his stated goal is life is to be a musician. It’s rock music, but she seems unperturbed—and even gives him some tips for alternate endings to one of his songs.
On the wedding day, Mrs. Kim is ever the out-of-touch fundamentalist who warns Lane just before the ceremony that there are “sacrifices” that she will have to make in marriage such as kissing and having to “do it” with Zach that night. Then, she adds, “Hopefully, if you’re lucky like me, you’ll only have to do it once.”
After the wedding and all the Adventist guests have quickly left, she begins to head home, knowing that the wedding reception in the park in the middle of the town is only beginning—replete with alcohol (that had been kept hidden from her and her guests’ view) and dancing. “I’m going to wear earplugs tonight,” she says. “The good ones that expand in your ear so I won’t be able to hear anything that might be going on out in the street at all hours of the night” (season 6, episode 19).
Mrs. Kim’s last appearance in Gilmore Girls is in the 16th episode of the last season. She’s in the midst of another conflict with now-pregnant Lane—this time over what the expectant mother should eat and how the grandchildren are to be reared. Mrs. Kim is unwilling to go to the baby shower over these issues. When Lorelai visits her to mediate, the grandmother-to-be expresses what she expects of her daughter and grandchildren: “attendance at weekly church services, Bible study twice a week, Adventist summer camp, no unclean meats or hydrogenated oils, Christmas will be celebrated with no gifts . . . .” “It is not reasonable,” she continues, “for Lane to think that she will raise my grandchildren as heathens while I stand by and do nothing.” But Lorelai reasons with her, “But Lane is not rejecting you. You guys are just different . . . . There are times when you have to put those differences aside.” Then, the irreligious and at-time profane Lorelai goes biblical on Mrs. Kim: “Like, you know Joseph, from the Bible, and how his brothers got all mad at him about that dreamcoat. Yes, and so they sold him into slavery. . . . The point is there are fights you can recover from and fights you can’t, and not going to your daughter’s baby shower—I mean, I know it’s hard, but I don’t want you to draw a line in the sand now that you can’t cross later.” Thanks to Lorelai, Mrs. Kim and Lane reconcile yet again, and that is the last time viewers see Mrs. Kim on the show (season 7, episode 16).
From the show’s perspective, the education of Mrs. Kim is not yet complete. She is still isolated within the double walls of the Adventist and Korean immigrant subcultures. After seven years, the strength of her convictions and the degree of her social isolation have not changed much. But she has come a long way toward showing tolerance toward others and learning social graces even on matters that are religiously important to her. Interestingly, her own internal inconsistencies such as her keeping of alcohol and a Buddha statue show her to be more human and endearing. In the end, there is a certain amount of respect that the show gives to Mrs. Kim as long as she does not treat others badly or force her beliefs on others. Only when Mrs. Kim is finally able to hold her beliefs and practices without being rash or judgmental toward others would her education be complete.
The God of Relationships
The underlying message to Adventism and other fundamentalist groups in the show’s portrayal of Mrs. Kim is clear. It calls on Adventists to be more tolerant and accepting toward those they disagree with, be more engaged in civic life, have a sense of humor about themselves, hold their beliefs a little loosely, and be open and willing to learn from others, even those outside the community. Adventists who exhibit early Mrs. Kim characteristics risk being out of touch with reality and losing their important relationships. Religion that does not enhance human relationships is not worth keeping; it becomes a charade.
In the end, one could say that Gilmore Girls props up the entire town of Stars Hollow as an alternative to religious community. Very few practice religion, and not many adhere to traditional religious values. However, the townsfolk of Starts Hollow all serve a common god—that of human relationships. Relationship is the absolute value that rules over all.
In such a world, Adventism has value only as it contributes to the overall relationship architecture. Its truth claims are tolerated only to the extent that they are held and expressed in less-than-absolutist terms in relation to the general population. The Adventist sub-community has a positive value to the larger society only as it serves to enhance the relationships of its members with the larger society.
The education of Mrs. Kim is overall a healthy one for her. But what about Lane’s move away from Adventism in pursuit of her dreams and her man? And what about the supreme value that is given to human relationships? In that world—in our world, how open and tolerant and postmodern should Adventism and its adherents get? Beneath the imperfect caricature of the Adventist community that Gilmore Girls presents lies a profound challenge for Adventism today.
The following article was published in the summer 2006 issue of the Journal of Adventist Education, published by the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists.
Imagine my shock and surprise when I, assigned to teach Adventist history at a college other than where I now work, discovered that some students who had received Adventist primary and secondary education had no idea why 1844 was a significant year for Adventism. I certainly was not expecting them to show me how William Miller had arrived at the conclusion that Christ’s second coming would occur in that year. Nor was I asking them to give support for the Adventist teaching of the pre-advent investigative judgment. I was simply asking if they knew why that year remains important for Adventists. So, confronted with this woeful ignorance of a basic fact of Adventist history, I was mortified.
Having taught Adventist beliefs and history in four higher educational institutions in different parts of North America over the past seven years, I can testify that the initial shock I felt has fully subsided and has been replaced by grudging acceptance of the reality that most of our students are simply not in tune with our heritage. Certainly, many are quite knowledgeable about our past. But the majority of students in our colleges are shamefully ignorant of where the denomination has come from and alarmingly uncertain about what constitutes the Adventist identity.
The sense of alarm I feel may arise more from my hyper-sensitivity to this issue as a denominational history teacher. It may just be that students have a better understanding of our past than they let on. But conversations with my colleagues in both history and religion departments across North America have only confirmed my observation. I even wonder sometimes if we as a community are sliding toward mass amnesia about our heritage. Indeed, we have much to fear for the future as we seem to be raising a generation that is forgetting “the way the Lord has led us, and His teaching in our past history.”
This “pandemic” of amnesia leads me to the primary objective of this article—that a course on Adventist heritage be required of all students in Adventist colleges and universities. This is not meant to be the solution, but as an important step toward reversing the trend toward historical amnesia and deepening the sense of heritage and identity among our youth and young adults. Naturally, this step should be followed by a re-visioning of the way we present our heritage in all levels of Adventist education. But this article focuses on mandating Adventist heritage education on the tertiary level as the first step.
Why Teach Adventist History?
Why, then, should Adventist colleges require a course on Adventist heritage? Several months ago, one of the administrators at Pacific Union College made a statement that led me to stop and think. In response to students’ perennial complaints about required worship and chapel attendance, the administrator said, “We require what we value.” Certainly, not everything that we value can be required, but adding an Adventist heritage course to the general education requirements would make a strong statement about what we value as Adventist institutions.
Currently, almost all Adventist colleges follow the liberal arts college model which includes a sizeable general education corps which amounts to roughly one-third of each student’s overall coursework. That corps includes courses on composition, literature, history, art, music, mathematics, basic sciences, social sciences, health, business, and religion. In some cases, students are required to take specific courses (without being given any alternatives) within these disciplines, because those courses are foundational to their college experience. In essence, we require these specific courses because we value them highly as indispensable features of our students’ college education.
Adventist heritage can be one such course. This course would be required because our identity and heritage as Seventh-day Adventists lie at the core of our existence and mission. Just as mandatory English composition and math courses equip our students with skills that are vital to life of useful service to the world, the mandatory Adventist heritage course would lead them into a reflection on what it means to be an Adventist, where we have come from as a community, and where we ought to go as individuals and as a church. In short, it would empower our students with a deeper sense of identity, heritage, and vision as Adventists. This is central to the mission of Adventist education—central enough to warrant inclusion as a required course in the general education program.
Currently, this is not happening anywhere in North America. Four colleges include an Adventist history course as one among several that fulfill either the history or religion requirement, but no Adventist college or university in North America requires an Adventist heritage course for all undergraduate students. Thus, it is not only possible, but quite likely that students graduate from an Adventist college without substantive exposure to the heritage that has shaped the Adventism of today.
Why a College-level Course?
Some may wonder why Adventist heritage would need to be required on the college level when the Academy religion curriculum includes it. It is true that Adventist history is currently being taught on the secondary level. Each year, tenth graders using His Story: In Our Time as their second semester religion textbook learn about the history of the Adventist church. However, that is not enough for the following reasons. First, a great number of students entering Adventist colleges come from public or other private schools without having had any formal education in Adventist beliefs and heritage. Many of them come looking for, perhaps for the first time in their lives, a distinctly Adventist educational experience. Also, many of these students are non-Adventists for whom their time at an Adventist college represents the only time when they have the opportunity to learn about our heritage. It is deeply troublesome to think that currently many of these students are graduating from our colleges and universities without ever having received any formal introduction to Adventist heritage.
Second, even for students who studied Adventist history in the academies, replication will prove to be a good thing. While the academy level introduction to the denominational history tends to focus on the facts and stories from history, the required college level course would focus on a more in-depth, critical discussion of the history, current issues, and future direction of Adventism. Such a college course is urgently needed to help our students understand and embrace Adventism in a mature manner—as part of making a personal, adult decision to remain (or become) a Seventh-day Adventist.
The Curriculum
What would this course look like exactly? The “ideal” course on Adventist heritage would not be too different from the ones that are currently offered in denominational colleges and universities across North America. But it would not be just a history course, though. It would be a course that not only studies Adventism’s past, but also takes a deliberate look at current issues in Adventism and the Adventist identity. The questions central to this course would be:
What lies at the core of Adventism?
What were the driving forces behind the birth and growth of Adventism?
What makes Adventism Adventism?
How should Adventism grow and change to fulfill its mission more effectively?
While its primary orientation will be historical, it will clearly have some theological and sociological features as well. As such, this course may be best run as a team-taught course, utilizing instructors not from history and religions departments, but also from all other departments who have given serious reflections on the meaning and value of Adventism in the world.
An Introduction to the Adventist Worldview
In essence, this course will provide each student with a solid introduction to the distinctly Adventist worldview. A study of the Adventist heritage will show students how we as a faith community have come to view God, the world, and humanity. It will also afford students a deeper understanding of the Adventist philosophy of history couched in the theme of the great controversy. Students will see that this view of history offers an alternative to the evolutionary/directional (that history is a process that unfolds from primitive to advanced) and cyclical views of history (that history proceeds in cycles following the deterministic pattern of growth, dominance, and decay). They will gain a view of God who works out the salvation of the human race through a process of redemptive acts in human history, though opposed by the evil one. They will also come to the recognition that what is happening on earth has “cosmic dimensions” and “eternal consequences.”
Arthur F. Holmes, in his classic work, The Idea of a Christian College, states that a Christian college ought to be concerned with “the development of Christian perspectives in all areas of life and thought.” The Christian college, he continues, “retains a unifying Christian worldview and brings it to bear in understanding and participating in the various arts and sciences, as well as nonacademic aspects of campus life.” To paraphrase Holmes, an Adventist college has the responsibility to work toward developing Adventist perspectives on life and lead students to apply the Adventist worldview in all situations of life. While such an infusion of the Adventist worldview should take place in every facet of Adventist colleges, the proposed course will make a compelling case for that worldview and lead students to make a deliberate effort to apply it in every area of their lives.
Not Only about the Past
Though the term “Adventist heritage” points to the past and its impact on the present, the proposed course is ultimately about shaping the future. As Ellen White wrote more than a century ago, we have “nothing to fear for the future, except as we shall forget the way the Lord has led us, and His teaching in our past history.” Given the current level of knowledge and appreciation for our heritage among our college students, it appears that we have much to fear for the future. Something needs to be done to help the so-called millennial generation find a sense of continuity and connection with the Adventist identity and heritage. Otherwise, our future as a faith community will be in serious jeopardy. Thirty years from now, the Adventist church as an entity will undoubtedly remain standing and even thriving, but what will constitute the essence of Adventism in 2036? What shape will it take? What changes will have been made?
George Knight, who has applied sociologist David Moberg’s research on the “life cycle” of religious organizations to the Adventist church, has suggested that the North American Adventist church has entered Moberg’s fourth stage of institutionalization, which immediately precedes the fifth and final stage of “disintegration.” Knight rightly urges that the Adventist church to recommit itself to its founding purpose and mission that have provided its reason for existence and impetus for growth. The millennial generation too needs to know and understand clearly what the mission of the church is and the purpose for which it exists. Otherwise, Adventism may very well find itself spiraling down into the period of disintegration.
This means that we must proactively teach and emphasize the Adventist identity and heritage to today’s growing generation if we seek to insure the future health of our community. Of course, this does not mean that the 21st century identity of Adventism needs to be the same as that of the 19th century, or that changes in our self-understanding or theology equals apostasy. No doubt, changes are happening in the psyche of the up-and-coming generation—perhaps even in areas that are considered to be core. However, these changes—if they are to made—cannot be made without an informed understanding of our heritage. The question is: Will we let the changes just happen to us, or will we determine proactively what changes we will and will not make?
To be sure, one cannot expect a single course in college to instill the Adventist worldview in all our students or to turn all our students into proactive theological thinkers. But it will represent an important step toward deepening our students’ understanding of our heritage while sharpening their identity as Seventh-day Adventists. It will also signal a strong message to our community and to the world of what we value as a movement. To these ends, I urge Adventist colleges to require a course on Adventist heritage to all their students as part of the general education requirements.
The following is the text of the presentation I made at the Questions on Doctrine 50th Anniversary Conference held at Andrews University on October 24-27, 2007. The rest of the papers will be available at qod.andrews.edu in January along with videorecordings of the sessions.
The Seventh-day Adventist Evangelical Conferences of 1955-1956 was a landmark event in the history of the relationship between Adventists and evangelicals. For the first time in history, the conferences brought the two parties together for a series of serious dialogues that resulted in major evangelical figures embracing Adventism as a Christian church. The conferences also led to the publication of Seventh-day Adventists Answer Questions on Doctrine through which Adventists expressed their beliefs in the most systematic manner up to that point. These events generated the initial series of intense reactions among evangelicals and Adventists between 1956 and 1971.
During this period, each side was sharply divided in their reactions. For evangelicals, their primary concern was whether or not Adventism could be accepted into evangelical fellowship. But for Adventists, their debate lay with the question of whether or not Questions on Doctrine properly represented Adventist beliefs. As a result, four major camps emerged in reaction to the conferences and the publication of Questions on Doctrine: (1) pro-Adventist evangelicals; (2) anti-Adventist evangelicals; (3) pro-Questions on Doctrine Adventists; and (4) anti-Questions on Doctrine Adventists.
Pro-Adventist Evangelicals
The pro-Adventist camp among evangelicals was limited to Donald Grey Barnhouse, Walter Martin, E. Schuyler English, and Frank Mead. Among the four, Martin was by far the most active and prolific in his defense and promotion of Adventism as an evangelical Christian church. In his articles in Eternity and Our Hope in the 1950s and his books published in the 1960s, The Truth about Seventh-day Adventism and The Kingdom of the Cults, Martin maintained the conclusion that he and Barnhouse had reached in 1956 regarding Adventism—that the movement needed to be removed from the list of non-Christian cults that evangelicals had agreed upon through consensus. Martin insisted that the Adventism of mid-twentieth century was essentially different from that of the nineteenth century.
The crux of Martin’s argument lay in his analysis that Adventism’s adherence to historic Christian orthodoxy as propounded in Questions on Doctrine was sufficient to de-classify the denomination from the catalog of cults. He divided Adventist teachings into three categories: (1) those adhering to the cardinal doctrines of historic Christian orthodoxy, (2) those held as a minority position among orthodox Christians, and (3) those held uniquely by Adventists. He argued that Adventists find their Christian identity in claiming those teachings belonging to the first category. He asserted that the beliefs belonging to the second and third categories, while heterodox, did not offset the essential orthodoxy of Adventism. Adventists, he insisted, had the right to differ from other Christians on those doctrines belonging to the second and third categories. Throughout this period, Martin never deviated from this conclusion.
Anti-Adventist Evangelicals
Those who opposed Martin in his quest to include Adventism among evangelicals were numerous and quite vociferous in their opposition. Following the lead of William Irvine and others from the first half of the twentieth century, evangelical writers such as Donald Hunter, Louis Talbot, M. R. DeHaan, Harold Lindsell, Herbert Bird, John Gerstner, Norman Douty, Russell Spittler, J. Oswald Sanders, Jan Karel Van Baalen, Anthony Hoekema, Gordon Lewis, and Irvine Robertson reflected the anti-Adventist sentiment that prevailed among evangelicals.
Writing for major evangelical publications and publishing houses, these critics attacked the basic premise laid out by Martin in his writings. These writers could not see Adventism as presented in Questions on Doctrine as evangelical. Rather, they saw the book largely as a recasting of Adventism of old which Protestant anti-cult specialists had always deemed cultic. While they did come to recognize that certain teachings of Adventism (such as the teachings on the Trinity and the divine nature of Christ) had been mischaracterized by evangelicals, the evangelical critics disagreed with Martin on how the doctrines of Adventism belonging to Martin’s second and third categories ought to be viewed. In contrast to Martin, these critics (all of them Calvinists) were in essential agreement that these teachings counteracted the orthodox claims of Adventism and thus presented in themselves insurmountable barriers to fellowship with evangelicals.
Pro-Questions on Doctrine Adventists
Adventists who were involved in the conferences with evangelicals and the publication of Questions on Doctrine were naturally favorably disposed toward these events and the beliefs expressed through them. As the Adventist-evangelical conferences progressed and Questions on Doctrine was published, R. R. Figuhr, president of the General Conference, was personally involved in the process and gave his unequivocal support for the efforts made toward rapprochement with the evangelicals. Though some concerns were raised by a few leaders in the pre-publication phase of Questions on Doctrine, Adventist leaders in general viewed these events as a positive breakthrough that raised the standing of the Adventist church in the Christian world.
In the years between 1957 and 1971, Leroy Edwin Froom, W. E. Read, and Roy Allan Anderson, the three primary participants of the dialogues and key contributors to the original draft of Questions on Doctrine, were particularly active in their defense of the conferences and the book. In response to Adventist critics who felt that the book had deviated from historic Adventist orthodoxy, they were quick to assert that Questions on Doctrine did not teach any new doctrine, but was simply a new presentation of the same historic teachings that Adventists had long held. At the same time, the Adventist leaders responded to the evangelical criticism that the book contained the same heresies of Adventism’s past by minimizing the theological deviations of Adventist pioneers and insinuating incorrectly that mainstream Adventists had always subscribed to the teachings contained in Questions on Doctrine. In concert with the pro-Adventist evangelical party of Martin, Barnhouse, English, and Mead, the pro-Questions on Doctrine Adventist leaders supported their church’s attempt at rapprochement with evangelicals and at the redefinition of Adventism as an evangelical denomination.
Anti-Questions on Doctrine Adventists
Though there apparently were a number of Adventists who had grave concerns about Questions on Doctrine, M. L. Andreasen was a singular figure who voiced consistent opposition to the book and his church’s move closer to evangelicalism. After reading Barnhouse’s September 1956 article on Adventism in Eternity and Froom’s February 1957 article on the atonement in Ministry, Andreasen began to hold the suspicion that the Adventist-evangelical conferences and the forthcoming publication of Questions on Doctrine were parts of a conspiracy to change traditional Adventist teaching on the atonement. When Questions on Doctrine was finally released, his suspicion that the General Conference leaders were emphasizing the place of the cross at the expense of the investigative judgment and its final generation implications was confirmed.
Thus, between 1957 and 1962 the elderly theologian waged a war against the General Conference with the goal of revising Questions on Doctrine. His primary mode of attack was the distribution of a series of open letters that contained sharp criticisms against Froom, Figuhr, and Questions on Doctrine. In the course of his campaign, Andreasen added the book’s support for the prelapsarian view of Christ’s human nature as another feature which needed to be excised. This latter point was particularly important for him in that he needed to have Christ possessing a human nature that is identical to all other human beings in order to establish his “final generation” theology. This theology, promulgated in Andreasen’s earlier works, argued that it was possible to live a sinless life since Christ, sharing the same nature as all other human beings, lived a sinless life. In 1962, Andreasen, nearing the end of his bout with a terminal illness, reconciled with Figuhr and the General Conference leadership on his deathbed. This, however, did not mean theological reconciliation or resolution, but merely an act of emotional closure to five years of bitter struggle.
The Four Camps beyond 1971
With the publication of Froom’s Movement of Destiny in 1971, the series of reactions by the original participants of the four camps came to a close. Evangelicals and Adventists proceeded differently in the years that followed. With each new printing of The Kingdom of the Cults, Martin reaffirmed his assessment of Adventism as evangelical, though he remained critical of the heterodox element within Adventism. A majority of evangelical anti-cult writers eventually followed suit and removed Adventism from the list of non-Christian cults. By the time of Martin’s death in 1989, Adventists were being accepted by most evangelicals as fellow Christians, though not without questions about the peculiarities that set Adventists apart.
The two Adventist camps, on the other hand, have not found a resolution to the struggle that began in the 1950s. Part of the problem has been the ambiguous stance taken by General Conference leadership on Questions on Doctrine since the election of Figuhr’s successor, Robert Pierson. Since the Review and Herald Publishing Association discontinued the printing of the book in 1975, the General Conference has neither repudiated the book nor defended it. While the status of the book as a whole may be uncertain within the church, it is clear that the book’s stance on the atonement has been affirmed by the majority of the church. The church’s statement of fundamental beliefs adopted by the General Conference in session in 1980 affirmed Questions on Doctrine’s emphasis on the centrality of the cross and the delineation of Christ’s post-1844 heavenly ministry as an application of Christ’s atoning sacrifice on the cross. Furthermore, since 1971 the relationship between Adventists and evangelicals has increasingly improved as the latter gradually came to embrace Adventists into their fellowship. The resulting self-understanding of these Adventists has been to view Adventism within the larger flow of biblical Christianity and to regard themselves as evangelicals.
However, the theological heirs of Andreasen have found such developments deeply troubling. Since 1971, several independent ministry groups have arisen within the Adventist church that have self-consciously embraced Andreasen’s postlapsarian views and the accompanying theology of the final generation, which they believe is supported by the writings of Ellen White. Since their inception, these groups have warned against the evangelicalization of Adventism and have issued calls to the church at large to return to the Adventism of the pre-Questions on Doctrine era. Like Andreasen, they have seen the Adventist-evangelical conferences and the publication of Questions on Doctrine as the beginning of the end-time apostasy. From the perspective of these groups, the prelapsarian view advocated by Questions on Doctrine and embraced by many Adventists is another sign of the apostasy that continues in the church. They view Adventism as a movement that is to be deliberately separate from other groups such as evangelicals. Their vision of Adventism is a movement that is preparing the final generation of Christians who will ultimately overcome sin. Clearly, the debate over the self-understanding and mission of Adventism continues, and it remains to be seen if and how the two seemingly irreconcilable camps will achieve resolution of the issues and come to theological reconciliation within the household of Adventism.
Observations
An analysis of the four camps that emerged in the aftermath of the Adventist-evangelical conferences and the publication of Questions on Doctrine yields some interesting observations.
(1) First, the evangelicals that Adventist leaders were interacting with were, without exception, adherents of Calvinism and theological heirs of the Protestant fundamentalism of the 1920s. Much like their fundamentalist forebears, these evangelicals assessed other Christian groups with a rather rigid set of criteria. For the evangelicals that Adventists were interacting with, these criteria included Calvinism. As they applied the fundamentalist-Calvinist grid to Adventism, the Adventist views on the law and the investigative judgment consistently fell out of line from the grid. Martin’s key innovation lay in his recognition of Adventism’s Arminian beliefs and his refusal to include his own Calvinist beliefs among the criteria for determining orthodoxy.
(2) Second, the fundamentalist-Calvinist evangelicals that Adventists were interacting with represented the most conservative wing of evangelicalism and the brand of evangelicalism which was the closest to the Adventism of the 1950s. Though these evangelicals and Adventists differed in several areas of belief, the two groups were similar in their commitment to a literal interpretation of Scripture and a conservative approach to lifestyle. This means that fundamentalist Christians would have been natural targets for Adventist evangelists who appealed to the biblical literalism of fundamentalists in convincing them, for example, of Saturday as the true biblical Sabbath. For the leaders of these evangelical communities, Adventists must have seemed like the antichrist—a group close enough to pass as an evangelical church, but dangerously dissimilar. Thus, it is not surprising that most fundamentalist evangelicals were so vehement in their opposition to Adventism. The definition of Adventism as a non-Christian cult was in essence an act of self-preservation for these evangelicals.
(3) Third, the evangelicals that Adventists were interacting with were in fact the only Christians who showed an interest in defining cults. Mainline, liberal Christians, on the other hand, showed no interest in defining cults or engaging in polemics of any sort. As Paul McGraw has suggested, fundamentalist evangelicalism—as the most conservative wing of evangelicalism—was preoccupied with compiling the cult catalog to solidify its self-appointed place as the defender of the fundamentals of evangelical Christianity. By defining Adventism and such groups as Mormonism, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Christian Science, and Unity as non-Christian cults, fundamentalism was not only legitimizing its place in evangelicalism, but also asserting its place as the true center of evangelicalism.
(4) Fourth, the inter-relationships between the four camps reveal three unlikely points of agreement between otherwise warring parties. The first such point of agreement centered on the question of whether Questions on Doctrine represented a change to Adventist theology. In the course of his attack against Questions on Doctrine, Andreasen concurred with Martin that the book represented a certain change in Adventist belief. For both, this assertion was central to their arguments, though for widely divergent reasons. Next, anti-Adventist evangelicals and General Conference leaders found themselves agreeing with one another that the book did not represent a change in Adventist theology. Their appraisal of historic Adventism, of course, was diametrically opposite—with the evangelicals calling it heretical, and the Adventist leaders asserting that Adventism had always been staunchly orthodox. Finally, the third unlikely point of agreement is found between anti-Adventist evangelicals and Andreasen. Even while asserting that Questions on Doctrine was a rehashing of old heresies, these evangelicals were happy to agree with Andreasen that the book was a deceptive ploy to present Adventism in a more presentable light.
(5) Fifth, the Adventist-evangelical conferences that led to the publication of Questions on Doctrine were a process driven by the Adventist conferees’ (particularly Froom’s) desire to bring Adventism into evangelical fellowship. As such, an imbalance of power existed in favor of the evangelical conferees who assumed the role of adjudicators from the beginning. Exactly how much this imbalance of power in favor of the evangelical conferees and the desire of the Adventist conferees to please them affected the content of the book is impossible to ascertain fully. It does not seem that Martin and Barnhouse overtly flaunted such power or acted manipulatively in their interactions with the Adventists. However, the strong desire to present Adventism in a manner that was acceptable to the two evangelicals is readily discernible in the correspondence among Adventists involved in the editorial process of Questions on Doctrine. It seems that this dynamic must be taken into account when interpreting Questions on Doctrine.
(6) Sixth, another problem associated with the Questions on Doctrine controversy among Adventists was the deliberate dismissal of evidence. This problem can be seen in both Questions on Doctrine itself and in Andreasen’s writings in response to the book. In compiling quotations from the writings of Ellen White on Christ’s human nature, the writers and editors of Questions on Doctrine left out many quotations that did not support the prelapsarian view. In addition, the editors’ insertion of such subheadings as “Took Sinless Human Nature” and “Perfect Sinlessness of Christ’s Human Nature” aggravated the problem since such conclusions were seen by some Adventists as a distortion of the overall witness of Ellen White on the issue. Such selective quoting would be pointed out by Andreasen and numerous others who followed him and would lead to the discrediting of the entire document by many. Andreasen, however, was also guilty of unfair use of the evidence. Even when Figuhr pointed out convincingly that Ellen White, Froom, and Andreasen himself essentially agreed on their view of the atonement on the cross, Andreasen dismissed them and essentially manipulated Froom’s words to support his own arguments. In both cases, it seems that the zeal to demonstrate a certain point led to selective use and manipulation of evidence.
(7) Seventh, the Adventist reactions surrounding Questions on Doctrine reveal a real difference in the way their history is viewed. As manifested in his 1971 book, Movement of Destiny, Froom saw Adventism on an epic journey of theological growth and enlightenment. He saw the 1888 General Conference session in Minneapolis as an epochal moment in Adventist history which provided a much-need corrective to the theological errors held by the pioneers. And he saw Questions on Doctrine as another epochal event which affirmed Adventism’s enlightened commitment to Christian orthodoxy and growing understanding of God’s truth. Others have not shared such a rosy view of Adventism’s theological history. While giving a positive assessment to some of the theological corrections that have been made over history, Andreasen and his followers have rejected Froom’s evolutionary view of Adventist history and have opted for a more pessimistic assessment, believing that Questions on Doctrine represented a serious regression from and corruption of the pristine theology of the pioneers of Adventism.
(8) Eighth, another question that lies at the crux of the debate is the question of change—if Questions on Doctrine represented a change in Adventist theology and if change—whether it happened or not—is a positive or negative thing. Though many evangelical critics charged that Adventism had not really changed—that it was the same legalistic, non-Christian cult of the previous 100 years, Barnhouse and Martin never budged from their position that the Adventism of the 1950s was indeed Christian and devoid of the heresies that had disfigured nineteenth-century Adventism. By portraying what had happened in the intervening years as “changes,” they were attempting to justify their acceptance of Adventism as Christian and to convince other evangelicals to change their attitudes toward Adventism. Meanwhile, the Adventist authors and backers of Questions on Doctrine, in the mid-1950s stood firm in their position that nothing of the essence had changed in their doctrines. Conveying the idea that no change had been made was even more critical for Adventist leaders since any change would be perceived by many rank and file Adventists as compromise and even apostasy. Already by early 1957, charges were being made that Adventist leaders were changing and misrepresenting historic Adventist beliefs on Christ’s nature and atoning work. Thus, it was important for Adventist leaders to declare unequivocally that no change had been made.
At the same time, it was equally important for them to explain to their evangelical counterparts that the Adventism of 1956 was indeed different from either the Adventism as portrayed in contemporary cult apologetics literature or the Adventism of generations past when dissenting positions were given space in denominational publications. This dilemma of having to please both the Adventist and evangelical critics is evident in Anderson’s letter to Martin immediately following the publication of Figuhr’s article in the December 13, 1956, issue of Review and Herald. Anderson attached a copy of the article with the letter and preempted the potential disappointment that Martin might feel with this warning: “You may wonder why [Figuhr] is stating so definitely that this is not a modification or alteration of our beliefs, et cetera.” Such a statement was necessary, he explained, because of “a man or two here and there that is inclined to feel that what we are doing is something that will seriously change our position, et cetera.” Still, Anderson wished that Figuhr’s statement “might have been worded just a little differently.” After reproducing Figuhr’s line—“The answers [by Adventist leaders] therefore are not in any sense a modification or alteration of what Seventh-day Adventists proclaim to the world as their beliefs’”—Anderson proceeded to offer what he would have written, “‘The answers therefore are not in any sense a modification or alteration of the real truth Seventh-day Adventists have been called to proclaim to the world.’” This statement “would be more in harmony with facts,” he wrote Martin, “because you know and I know that some statements have been made publicly and have appeared in print which are not in harmony with the actual truth . . . .” Then he concluded by reassuring Martin that the Adventist leaders were “very conscious of” the problem. At the same time, Anderson reminded Martin that “it will serve the best interests of all concerned if we help our own people to know that there is no serious movement to change our belief, but rather to clarify it.”
In essence, it appears that Adventist leaders such as Anderson were engaged in a double entendre involving the word “clarify.” They assured fellow Adventists that the church was merely clarifying—i.e., making clear—the traditional teachings of Adventism. Then, to Barnhouse and Martin, they asserted that they were in the process of clarifying—i.e., clearing away unorthodox elements from—Adventist teachings. This shows what an awkward position the Adventist leaders placed themselves in. Nonetheless, they were jubilant over the agreement that they reached at least with Barnhouse and Martin on a crucial point—that Adventism as it stood in 1956 was an orthodox, Christian denomination and should be welcomed into evangelical fellowship. Whether the Adventist leaders were honest and forthright in this process and whether Questions on Doctrine represented a change in beliefs or merely expressions would consume much of the ensuing discussions over the book.
(9) Ninth, the Questions on Doctrine controversy illustrates the importance of the spirit of inclusiveness and of heeding voices of concern, particularly in relating to those on the other side of the theological spectrum. The editors and writers of Questions on Doctrine solicited critiques from others, but it appears that they largely ignored the detailed responses that did arrive. For example, Raymond Cottrell’s critiques and warnings, which might have prevented much of the upheaval that followed the publication of the book, were mostly unheeded. It is impossible to ascertain whether the tension between Froom and Andreasen resulted in the latter not being consulted in the editorial process of Questions on Doctrine. Even if the “snubbing” of Andreasen was not intentional, he could have been taken more seriously once he began writing Figuhr with concerns. But almost immediately Andreasen was seen as a nuisance and a hindrance to the process rather than a potential resource. It seems that Froom, Read, and Anderson were more interested in producing a document that would be acceptable to evangelicals than in crafting a consensus response that truly represented Adventist beliefs. As such, the opinions of those who disagreed with them either in method or perspective were dismissed—resulting in a continuing legacy of discord.
While the tension between the two evangelical camps have subsided over the course of the past fifty years, that between the two Adventist camps has continued into the present time in diverse ways. Regardless of where one stands in the debate, the Adventist-evangelical conferences and Questions on Doctrine remain as important reference points of contemporary Adventist theological self-understanding. It is our task today to learn from history and to think, wrestle and pray together as a community.
This paper is drawn from the “General Conclusions” chapter of my 2005 Andrews University dissertation, “Reactions to the Seventh-day Adventists Evangelical Conferences and Questions on Doctrine, 1955-1971.” Those interested in the QOD 50th Anniversary Conference Limited Edition of my dissertation (as of Nov. 1, I have 50 copies left that I’d like to part with) may email me at jjnam@llu.edu. Price: $24 (including postage)