Quand les gens trouvent Jésus dans une église différente – Deuxième partie: L’identité sectaire
by Loren Seibold | September 27, 2024 |
Theologically, we Adventists are Protestants. The entire first half of The Great Controversy , perhaps the book that best characterizes us, celebrates the Reformation. We should be able to say without flinching, except perhaps for one line, the entire Apostles’ Creed —and even this entire profession of faith if we understood the difference between Catholic and Catholic.
So it’s not just that we’re theologically right and everyone else is wrong. Sectarianism is not that simple. Our sectarian identity is not simply about being right , but about being exclusively right and defensive . We have to believe that we are what no one else can ever be, that we have what no one else can have. We have constructed this identity through a set of shared activities and symbols: in terms of our time management—we are the only ones who observe God’s true day of worship—in terms of food, clothing, friends, our jargon, shared stories, and our own exclusive institutions.
And by persisting, at all costs, even in the face of theological questions and declining congregations that quarrel and, one day or another (we have convinced ourselves, without concrete evidence), because of our day of rest, in the face of persecutions carried out by our sworn enemies, the Catholics. We cannot give up everything now: if we hold on, everything will eventually come true.
Because just as important as what we are for is who we are against . Our bigotry is about labeling ourselves as those on the margins of the Christian world, the “remnant” who are misunderstood, rejected, and hated. It’s “you and me against the whole world.” So what happens when you leave the you and me ? You’re no longer one of us , and we can’t help but resent you for it.
Suffice to say, it is not just a belief . It is a reaction , and it comes from the deepest, most fundamental part of ourselves. That is why it is so difficult for us to deal with it rationally.
Interestingly, even when some of our beliefs are more nuanced—when we eat out for Sabbath lunch, wear earrings, drink coffee, and send our children to public school—the psychological hold remains. Even as the years have passed, even as many of us have become more intellectually tolerant and less exclusive, we still feel more comfortable within our own. If we attend a Sunday service with non-Adventist friends, we feel a little adventurous, a little generous, but well outside our comfort zone. More of us than you might think are never completely comfortable with non-Adventist friends unless we tell ourselves that we are witnessing.
The term “non-Adventist” itself says a lot about us: We Seventh-day Adventists have a word we regularly use to refer to the rest of the world, making it clear that they are “not us.” Furthermore, our official denominational policy is that we do not transfer membership from one of our congregations to one of theirs . We will remove you from our records, but we will not send you happily on your way to another religious community.
Can we talk?
I am not sure we can or want to talk about it. The first step would be to ask ourselves if we are willing to revisit the idea that we are the only true church, and that the Sabbath is God’s mark on his only true children. I am not optimistic that we will be able to do that. It is who we are at our core, it is our reason for existing.
I think back to the days when I was criticized for preaching sermons on grace and for “not talking about something you wouldn’t hear in a Sunday church.” Here are the battle lines clearly: Unless you’re talking about things that are unique to us—if you’re talking about things that are at the heart and center of the Christian faith as it is understood by all Christians—you’re not being faithful to the rest and its message.
It’s almost justified. Almost, because I’m not speaking about grace in a Sunday church, but in a Seventh-day Adventist church where many people don’t know or believe in God’s grace and the security of their salvation. Where too often they think they’re saved by their eschatological knowledge, by eating right, or by belonging to the right church. At times I’ve almost wanted to say to them, “All right, if that’s what you want to believe, go ahead. Go on… without me.” But God has placed me in this denomination, and He has asked me to do what I sincerely believe the Bible tells me to do, and that has seemed to me to be preaching Christ, not endless eschatology and Sabbath rules. I guess on the day of judgment I’ll find out whether that decision was right or wrong.
By the way, we are not happy with those who fall away from the faith either; but obviously we are a little less alarmed by them than by those who find Jesus elsewhere. Why do we tolerate dozens of members on our books who are never seen? This is where we prove that it is not so much a question of your salvation as of our insecurity. It is less threatening to us that you are no longer an active member. What is threatening is that you have met someone else.
The joy of the journey
Occasionally during my years of pastoring, I have received a letter from a non-Adventist congregation asking me to transfer a person’s membership to them. Of course, there is no procedure for doing this, so I have not bothered to present the case to the secretary or church board. But I have always written a letter, personally, letting that congregation know that they can welcome this new member into their church family.
And yes, in doing so I probably disobeyed the spirit—rather than the letter—of the church manual. So, kick me out. But I still believe it was the right thing to do. Why should we misbehave toward someone who chooses to follow Jesus in a different context? Is it better for them to leave our church thinking we view them as lost sheep? A resentful response—what does that say about us ? It seems to me that nothing screams insecurity more than an undeserved sense of superiority.
Conventionally, it has long been said that people leave our church only because they have been mistreated. Yes, to our credit, we have sometimes acknowledged this, but we add that it was not a good excuse. “No matter how we behave, you cannot leave the church because we have the truth.” I have friends who are part of unfulfilling and, in some cases, downright cruel Adventist congregations. What will happen when they can no longer take it? When having the right doctrines is no longer enough and they leave in search of a different—and better—experience?
All this to say that maybe we should cultivate some compassion for those who are fed up with us. Maybe we should listen to them and allow them to go find Jesus in another church and not just slam the door in their backs.
Loren Seibold is a retired pastor and the managing editor of Adventist Today . This article was originally published on February 5, 2019, and republished on April 24, 2023, on the Adventist Today website .
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