How to Prepare for the 2025 General Conference Session
by Loren Seibold | 28 March 2025 |
The last full General Conference (GC) session was in 2015. Blame Covid, which hijacked our best-laid plans.
So we’ve had ten years to prepare. But I’ll bet you haven’t.
You say, Loren, what are you talking about? I’m not attending the General Conference session. Why do I need to prepare?
Let me explain.
Perhaps you don’t remember, but back in 2015 one of the GC leaders stood to his feet at the microphone and predicted that Jesus would come before we had another session. If you took him at his word (and you should, because he is an official of the highest authority God has on earth), here’s what you need to do rather quickly. Immediately, actually.
First, you’d better get perfect. I don’t know what that will look like, because I’ve never been perfect, but it’s the expectation of some apparently knowledgeable people that before Jesus comes, the character of Christ will be perfectly reproduced in Seventh-day Adventists.
Perhaps Jesus is returning because a lot of them have perfectly reproduced the character of Christ—because I’m pretty sure the character of Christ isn’t perfectly reproduced in me. I mean, I try—I really do—to be like Jesus. But I doubt I can become as perfect as they are before July. I just hope there’s a track for people who have to rely upon God’s grace to be saved, or I’m out of luck.
But that’s just me. I’m sure you are much closer to perfection than I am.
Second, that means there’s going to be a quickie Time of Trouble between now and July, so get ready for that. Fortunately it will only be a month or two, which is good, because I don’t think I could stand years and years of Sunday laws and hiding in the mountains, not to mention being tortured by Roman Catholics and apostate Protestants.
I recommend that you pack away lots of food and medicine. Buy a generator. Get some good hiking shoes. Get rid of your mobile phones and computers—they can track those things, you know. (Some people say you should get guns and ammo—but knowing me, I’d probably just shoot myself in the foot.)
And toilet paper. Remember 2020? Don’t forget the toilet paper.
By the way, you probably have some Roman Catholic neighbors. They know where you live. And you know what they’ve got in their church basements, don’t you? (If you say “coffee machines,” you clearly haven’t been paying attention.)
Third, you’re burdened with a lot of stuff that you soon won’t need. Sell that house and move into a tent (the weather is likely to be good) and give the money to the church. (This, people, is why you were a Pathfinder!) Sell that Toyota SUV and get some bicycles.
On second thought, keep the Toyota. You might need it to sleep in if it gets too windy for the tent. Or maybe you can drive away from Catholics who are—I dunno, chasing you on foot.
Fourth, warn the family. Just in case the people you love aren’t up to snuff. Are they eating meat? They can’t go to heaven with flesh in their stomachs. (Wait—didn’t Jesus eat fish after his resurrection and before he went to heaven? Never mind. I forgot: the son of God didn’t have all the light we have.) Are they wearing earrings and jewelry? Do they attend the cinema? Are they sleeping in on Saturdays?
Try your best to get them into line. It’s going to be a rough couple of months.
Hey, don’t blame me if this seems like a lot to do in three months. You already had five extra years.
(PS: Please, Adventists—do we have to keep doing this? Can’t we quit predicting Jesus’ return, and just try to be Christians, saved by faith?)
Loren Seibold is a retired pastor, and the Executive Editor of Adventist Today.
