Monthly Archives: April 2018

The Contours of European Adventism

I have enjoyed participating in the Symposium on the Contours of Adventism in Europe, that was held this past week at Friedensau University in Germany. It was a pleasure to present my paper on The Adventist Church and the European Unionand to listen to, and discuss, more than fifteen other presentations from scholars from many different countries in Europe, Russia and the United States.

Many of the papers that were presented were of a historical nature. And indeed, looking back at what lies behind us is important. A movement needs to know where it came from and how it developed in order to face the present and the future in a purposeful and coherent manner. A few presentations focused on the enormous difficulties that Adventist believers faced in the past. In countries with an established ‘national’ church, the emergence of newcomers like Adventists was not welcome and this often translated into fierce opposition. But these difficulties do not begin to compare with what believers in many parts of the former Soviet Union had to endure. As participants of the symposium we listened to many little-known stories of true martyrdom—the personal histories of people who faced long-term prison sentences and, in a considerable number of cases, were tortured or even lost their lives. Those of us who live today, and who are Adventists in today’s world, do well to remember their sacrifices and to treasure those shining examples of heroism, when we are confronted with ugly reaction as we share our faith.

However, looking at the past of our church also reminds us that the past is a mixed bag of good and not so good things. I referred to that in my recent blog about the biography of S.N. Haskell, one of the Adventist ‘pioneers’. His story is one of success and defeat, of acts of faith and of dubious decisions, of great achievements and of serious shortcomings. This week Dr. Gilbert Valentine, a historian who teaches at the La Sierra University in Southern California, presented an excellent paper on aspects of the person and work of John Nevil Andrews—the first official missionary sent out from the USA to Europe. We were told of the problems Andrews had to face when beginning his work from Basel, Switzerland. He knew little French and soon suffered a severe culture shock. The European missionary enterprise was a heavy drain on the church’s finances, and often the needed funds were slow in arriving. His decision to put a lot of his energy (and funding) into a monthly magazine, rather than holding a series of meetings in smaller towns (as the brethren in the US had advised him to do), was ill-received at the church’s headquarters. Andrews maintained that working in Europe was far different from working in the United States and that he had to adapt to these very different circumstances.

A most interesting aspect of Valentine’s paper on Andrews was his relationship to James and Ellen White. Andrews and James White did not get along and James was extremely critical (also in articles for the official church paper) about Andrews’ work in Europe, in particular for going against the counsel of the leaders in the USA and for not following the American model of evangelism. Ellen White, who at that time had not yet been in Europe herself and had not yet gained any first-hand knowledge of European circumstances, was at times also very critical. Her last 13-page letter that was sent to Andrews when he was terminally ill, was extremely sharp and critical and one wonders whether this was what Andrews needed when he was about to die. Later assessments of Andrews’s work were far more positive, and some time later, after making a five month visit to Europe, Haskell stated that he fully understood Andrews’ approach and probably would have done the same, had he been in Andrews’ place.

Once again, the presentations I heard this week helped me to better understand that the past should not idealized. Yes, there were many beautiful things in our denominational past, but the players were all very human and we must learn from their successes, but also learn their failures and mistakes.

(I look forward to the full biography of Andrews that Gilbert Valentine has written and will be published towards the end of the year!)

 

Plain reading?

A few days ago I was working on a new sermon, which is based in Luke 7:36-50. In this passage we read how a feast in the house of Simon the Pharisee was disturbed by a woman who had somehow gained entry, poured costly oil over Jesus’ feet and dried his feet with her hair. We also are informed that the woman was known in the city as a notorious sinner, but that Jesus’ told her that all her sins were forgiven.

It is a beautiful subject for a sermon. We all are sinners, like this woman. But at the end of the story Jesus’ regards her as a forgiven sinner. The point of the story is that Simon could only see this woman as a despicable sinner, but that Jesus changed her status in that of a sinner who had received forgiveness. This greatly encourages us. Whatever people may say about us, the only thing that really matters is how we are seen by God.

Working on this sermon I was once again made aware of the differences we notice in the descriptions of the gospel writers of particular events. This is certainly also true for this story. In this case the differences between the four versions of the gospel writers are such that most commentators have concluded that there must have been two similar occurrences. Matthew, Mark and John place this event just before Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion, while Luke places it towards the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

So, the question is: are we dealing with one event or two different events? In reading the book The Desire of Ages, by Ellen G. White, one quickly discovers that this author regarded it as one and the same occurrence. For many Adventists that settles the question. Many feel that Ellen White has the final say with regard to the interpretation of the Bible. Others, like myself, question this view. But whatever be the case: Those who maintain that the stories all describe the same incident, must take considerable liberties with the text and just ignore some significant differences.

It is interesting to see how Ellen White fuses the different versions of the story. Just one example of this is the description of what this woman actually did. Did she pour her oil over Jesus’ head, as Matthew and Mark tell us, or over his feet, as we are told by Luke and John. Ellen White solves this problem by simply stating that the woman poured her oil on Jesus’ head as well as over his feet.

Should something like this worry us? That depends. It is no problem for me. My definition of inspiration is broad enough to accept that the Bible writers may not have remembered every detail of the events they describe, or may have used sources that were not totally correct oreer incomplete. But those who defend a much more strict theory of inspiration and are convinced of the so-called ‘plain reading’ approach to the Bible, do have something to explain. They must face the fact that there are clear discrepancies between several biblical passages about one and the same event that cannot be simply ignored. And they will have to explain how one can, following the ‘plain reading’ method, fuse different stories without dealing with these clear differences. It seems to me that this leads to the conclusion that Ellen White took certain liberties with the text that can hardly be defended from a ‘plain reading’ perspective.

In my sermon I will not dwell on the many technical issues concerning this story from Luke. I will also leave the question of the identity of this woman aside. John is the only evangelist who mentions the name of Mary. Was she the sister of Martha and Lazarus (as the Desire of Ages tells us) or does the story in Luke perhaps point to Mary of Magdala? My sermon will emphasize the underlying message of the story for me and for the people who will listen to me, namely that we are also forgiven sinners and not just sinners. But those who push the ‘plain reading’ theory should give it considerable thought how they can reconcile the differences in the versions of the four gospels.

 

Lessons from the life of S.N. Haskell

Seeing a new book that was written by someone I happen to know always makes awakens my curiosity.  That was the case when I saw a book by Gerald Wheeler that was recently published by the Pacific Press. I first met Gerard, some forty years ago, at a convention for Adventist editors that was held in the Adventist conference center Glacier View—high in the Rocky Mountains. (This place would later achieve some notoriety in the Adventist Church as the place where a church tribunal condemned Desmond Ford.) Gerald spent his entire church career at the Review and Herald Publishing Association and was widely known as a highly skilled book editor.

Wheeler’s first biography of an Adventist leader in the early period of Adventist history appeared in 2003:  James White: Innovator and Overcomer. The book was based on meticulous research and gave an honest, and at times quite astonishing, picture of James White, the husband of Ellen G. White. Thus it was with great expectations that I started reading his newest biography: S.N. Haskell: Adventist Pioneer, Evangelst, Missionary, and Editor. I was not disappointed.

Stephen Haskell (1833-1922) did not belong to the oldest group of pioneers who had a personal involvement with the Miller movement. However, he was one of the many self-made men, who—without much formal education—grew into many-faceted and powerful church leaders. Wheeler follows Haskell through the various phases of his long life, in various roles (and often combinations of roles). He follows him to the places in the United States where he worked (first in the East, then more westward and ultimately in California), and on his many journeys to Europe and Australia, and other continents, which might take him away from home for many months or even longer than a year. It was the life of a hard-working, utterly dedicated and versatile man, but also of an individual who could be very stubborn and was not always ready to accept advice from others. He received countless letters and ‘testimonies’ from Ellen White. Although he received much criticism from her, he gradually became very close to her. He even proposed to her after she had become a widow. The book is also very valuable in that it consistently places Haskell in the time and culture in which he lived and against the background of the developments (and troubles) of the steadily growing Advent movement.

I recommend this book in particular to those who, like me, enjoy reading biographies. However, I would also strongly recommend it to those Adventists who keep on telling us that the Adventist Church should follow the patterns laid out by the pioneers of the church. It is true that in Haskell’s days many good things happened in the church, and that there were many committed people who brought great sacrifices ‘for the cause’. There is much in the history of that period that can inspire us. But the book about Haskell also clearly shows that there was much in the church that was not so good. There was rivalry between leaders. At times there were bizarre ideas that brought confusion.  Projects could fail because of mismanagement and often there was a distinct lack of unity. Many decided to join the church, but many also left again—some respected leaders among them.

In actual fact there is not that much difference between the present and the past. Today’s church is far from perfect, and that is true of the leaders as well as the members in the pew. This is no excuse to just accept whatever happens. This book is, however, a strong warning not to be too quick in assuming that the church of the past—and certainly in the days of the pioneers—was far better than it is today. And a nostalgic looking backwards to an often romanticized past is no panacea for all the problems and challenges the church must face today and will be confronted with in the future. If in doubt, allow yourself to be convinced by reading this fascinating biography of Haskell (which may be ordered at Amazon.com).

 

Voices from 60 years ago

It has been said that Adventists will eventually react to changes that occur in the rest of the world, but that it does take them about fifty years to do so.  Fact is, that the issues that are affecting society—and other christian denominations—eventually also come to our door.

Last week I read a book by a Dutch theology professor, Dr. Hans Snoek, entitled: Van Huis uit Protestant, which translates best as ‘Raised a Protestant.’ The subtitle describes the content: Hoe de leer verdampte en het geloof veranderde (Or: ‘How doctrine evaporated and faith changed’.)[1]

Giving some historical background to the challenges of Dutch Protestants, Snoek points to two authors who, some sixty years ago, tried to give an analysis of the situation Protestants were confronted with. They pointed to elements that needed to be faced. However, the books they wrote pointed in dramatically different directions.

One author—Prof. R. Schippers—strongly believed that the greatest danger confronting the conservative stream of Dutch Protestantism was the tendency of many church members (in particular of the younger generation), to follow ‘worldly’ trends. He emphasized the problem of the deterioration in sexual morals, and the lure of unacceptable forms of amusement, such as the cinema.

The other author—Thijs Booij—also writing in 1954, argued that the conservative Dutch Protestantism he saw around him was mostly defined by a culture of old age. The dynamic character of the church had disappeared, giving place to stagnation.  He saw very little growth—intellectually and spiritually. Too many people, Booij contended, are focused on the past, which has led to a ‘monologue-culture’ that has preciously little to say and mostly repeats itself. He signals a lack of imagination, a distaste for experiment, a lack of improvisation and of creative planning.

Booij goes on to say that one of the problematic elements in the conservative Dutch Protestant world of his days, is that church culture is male-dominated. And he adds that it is characterized by a strong intellectualism that leaves very little room for the experiential aspects of faith. This tendency towards abstract thought leads to building systems, which encourages people ‘to define their doctrinal differences in six decimals.’

In contemporary Adventism many would agree with Prof. Schippers. Much more emphasis ought to be placed, they say, on leaving ‘the world’ and on striving for the kind of character and lifestyle that God expects us to develop. Well, who can disagree with that?  And yet, it struck me that what Mr. Thijs Booij wrote more than half a century ago seems a very accurate description of what contemporary Adventism is like.  By and large, Dutch conservative Protestantism did not heed the warning of Professor Schippers. Nor did it adequately respond to the concerns listed by Mr. Booij.  Will the Adventist Church fare any better?

A denomination that mostly repeats itself without the kind of ‘present truth’ that relates to the issues of our times, that is male dominated, and is afraid of new forms of spirituality, may still exist for a while, but is not going to be very appealing to most of the men and women around us who are in search of a spiritual home. Let’s not wait another fifty years before we address these important concerns.


[1]  Published in Kampen by Uitgeverij Kok, 2015.