Indian Summer

In the Adventist Church we believe that every man is his own priest; no committee, pope, or preacher has a right to superim­pose his particular beliefs on anyone else. We have a church manual with a certain list of church doctrines in it, but within each of these particular sets of doctrines there is a wide divergence of belief, and then even more divergence in terms of practice of these beliefs.

It is sometimes difficult for young people to believe that the Adventist Church is one of the most liberal churches in the world. But the Bible makes it plain that one of the marks of the people of God is that they have thought through for themselves and have concluded that they are responsible for themselves; they are their own priests, "an holy nation, a peculiar [or purchased] people." This doesn't mean that they are odd; it simply means that these worthless people have had the world's highest price paid for their redemption. A similarly strange situation would occur if someone would approach me with an offer of $500,­000 for my car. It isn't worth $500,000; it isn't worth even a fraction of that. Such a transaction would create a great mystery.

And here is a great mystery, Peter says. This is something that makes us peculiar; we are worthless, yet God died that we might have life. There isn't anything in terms of oddity here. It is peculiar because we are these purchased people (not odd). Worthless as we are in sin, a human-divine price has been paid for our redemption. Peter describes the result: "That ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his mar­vellous light."

He has described the result of the human-divine relationship, an earmark of the peo­ple of God. They have assumed their own responsibility, they are their own priests, and they are aware of the fact that they were purchased by a divine price. There­fore they show the glory of God by talking about Him and living a Christlike life.

Now, we must remember as we look for the earmarks of the people of God that not all systems of religion are equal repre­sentations of the truth as revealed by Christ. The hope of the human race does not lie in the human race at all. The hope of the human race lies in the redeemed portion of the human race. Certain earmarks, dis­tinguishing characteristics, of the people of God are described in Revelation 14:12. They are simply two in number: "Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus."

This is a picture of people who have a certain relationship to God. It is the rela­tionship of obedience; they are willing to follow God because they know who He is, they know what kind of God they are serving. They know how He looks upon men. They are fairly clear in their own mind about how they look upon Him. And because their view of Him is healthy and favorable, they are willing to follow Him and to obey Him.

Now, the Adventist Church maintains that this relationship is not denominational or institutional. In other words, we do not hold that all our members have the ear­marks of God's people as laid down in Rev­elation, namely, keeping the command­ments. Merely attending church on Sabbath morning does not mean that we are keeping the commandments necessarily or that we have a correct relationship with God.

The saving relationship is a personal one, which means that people from all denominations, people from no denomina­tion, probably, will be granted the free gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ, the Man of our salvation. However, there is a rationale for the existence of the Adventist Church that transcends the ra­tionale for the existence of most other churches and/or religious institutions.

This rationale is doctrinal. Whereas we hold that a Baptist or a Methodist or a Catholic or a nonchurch member has ac­cess to the free gift of eternal life, we still maintain, with no apologies, that when­ever possible we will try to make a good Adventist out of a good Baptist or a good Methodist or a good Catholic or a good nonchurch member. We have a special message which, if properly understood and properly taught, will bring our neighbors and friends and certainly ourselves into a closer, more meaningful relationship with God. This message is embodied in teaching about God—Bible doctrines.

First of all, we have a distinctive teach­ing and understanding of the Sabbath. There is a wide range of ideas and under­standing and lack of understanding among us on the Sabbath and its purpose. But this practice was originally given to man to implement fellowship with God so that he could have confidence in God.

The second doctrine that reveals God in a particular manner is the doctrine of the nonimmortality of the soul. This again is a distinctive teaching, setting forth that when a man dies, he is asleep in the grave. This concept is important because it de­picts a God of mercy rather than a God who has purposed to punish the wicked in the fires of hell for eternity. Here again, you see, we get a glimpse of God and His dealing with man, not a glimpse of a dead doctrine proved from the pages of the Bible.

The third distinguishing doctrine of God's people is the doctrine of the sanctu­ary with all its implications, including the second coming of Christ. What do we know about the sanctuary? Merely the coverings and the furniture, the daily and yearly rituals? The sanctuary service simply boils down to revealing to man in his finiteness how God deals with him. The teaching is directed toward one great goal—that man can have enough confidence in God to obey Him; that's all.

To see God in the sanctuary is to marvel, "I have seen God in action; I see how He looks upon me in justice and in mercy; I see Jesus as my High Priest; I realize that He is coming again; the sanctuary will be cleansed, and since I have confidence in this whole program, I will obey it," To do this is to fall into the category of a saint of God. (Here is the patience [endur­ance] of the saints, who keep the command­ments of God, because they have confidence in Him.)

Now, we teach these doctrines simply be­cause if we understand them, our lives are changed. The change will be discernible:

There are those who know something of the doctrines we claim to belie^-cc, and they are noting the effect of our faith upon our characters. They are waiting to see what kind of influence we exert, and how we carry ourselves before a faithless world. The angels of heaven are looking upon us. We are made a spectacle unto the world, and to an­gels, and to men" (1 Cor.

Others look upon us and say, "All right, so you're an Adventist and I'm a Baptist, and I am enjoying my salvation in the Lord. I am happy in Him; I am secure in my salvation. What do you have that I don't have?"

That isn't a bad question. I dare say some of us would be hard put to answer it. Maybe there is a final lesson in obedi­ence that we need yet to learn. Maybe there is a final lesson in confidence that we still need to learn. We are a people with a dis­tinct message typified by three doctrines, the enormity and immensity of which we haven't begun to explore. These are our guarantees, if you please; these are the as­surances that we can be a distinctive people.

It should be profitable to look at us now as a people and to evaluate our distinctive contribution to the world, and to assess the direction we are taking.

Students of human nature have put forth certain ideas regarding the rise and progress of a church, any church; I refer particularly to the work of Ernst Troletsch and Max Weber and their colleagues, who have done studies in church growth. These men simply say that every church that arises follows a certain pattern.

They designate a church group in its early years of inception as a sect. A sect, they say, always rises as a protest. It usu­ally arises around a leading person or a small group of leading persons who have special gifts, or at least are considered to have special gifts. They attract followers. The sect protests spiritual and moral lax­ity in the culture in which it arises. It protests against the economic and political evils of its day. Its essential characteristic is that of protest.

As time goes on the sect either will shrivel up and die, as the leaders pass off the scene of action, or it will continue to grow and gain adherents. As it gains adherents and financial prosperity, it moves from the area of protest into an intermediate area called a denomination. In a denomina­tion there is less of protest and a growing awareness of popularity.

If the group prospers and continues, these men hypothesize, in every case the sect will progress to denominationalism and finally to what they call a church, an institution having a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

To sum up their theory: The sect is a protest group; as time moves on, the group of people comprising the sect enlarges; a compromise is made. In time the denom­ination becomes a church with a vested interest in maintaining what already exists in the society in which it exists.

The early Christian church is cited as an example. It arose in the Roman Empire as a protest movement against the spiritual, moral, and political evils of the day. Jesus Christ and the apostles comprised the small band of people with special gifts around whom the sect developed. Ensuing com­promises and corruption are a matter of history.

Another classic example is taken from the time of the Reformation, when the Lutheran Church had its beginnings. Mar­tin Luther, a man with obvious gifts, un­der God's leading arose as a great moun­tain peak in an arid era of religious bigotry and orthodoxy. Around Martin Luther was a small group of leaders; the group in­creased, the populace began to follow him, and another sect was born.

But, students of human nature point out, in time the sect following Luther moved toward a church category, as will happen in time to every church group when it be­comes large. In many places today Luther­anism is actually a state church, having a vested interest in maintaining things ex­actly as they are, including the government.

The church group has moved from the protests of 1517 through the denomina­tional middle type of transition era where they still made certain protests but were reaching over to grasp the hands of kings and princes, until finally now they have moved into a fully institutional-type church excluding certain socio-economic classes with a gospel appealing strictly to the middle and upper classes, at least in cer­tain synods.

In his book Millhands and Preachers Liston Pope has delineated certain char­acteristics of the sect group and the church group in terms of the interest and emphasis that these groups place on specific things:

The sect renounces or is indifferent to the secular value system while the church accepts or re-en­forces it.

The sect emphasizes a literal Biblical interpreta­tion of life and rejects worldly success, while the church incorporates some degree of scientific and humanistic thinking in its interpretation of the Bible and of life and accepts success in the world as a worthy goal.

The sect maintains a moral community, exclud­ing unworthy members, and depreciates member­ship in other religious institutions, while the church embraces all who are socially compatible with it and accepts other established religious institutions.

The sect emphasizes congregational participation and an unprofessionalized ministry while the church delegates religious responsibility to a professional­ized group of individuals.³

The sect stresses a voluntary confessional basis for membership and its primary concern is for adults, while the church stresses social and ritual requisites for all.

The sect values fervor in religious observance through its use of gospel songs and folk hymns and its emphasis on evangelism, while the church values passivity through its use of liturgical forms of worship and its emphasis on education.'

And so the movement from sect to church continues. Richard Niebuhr puts it this way in his book The Social Sources of Denominationalism:

The sociological character of sectarianism, however, is almost always modified in the course of time by the natural processes of birth and death, and on this change in structure, changes in doctrine and ethics inevitably follow. By its very nature the sectarian type of organization is valid only for one genera­tion. The children born to the voluntary members of the first generation begin to make the sect a church long before they have arrived at the years of discretion. For with their coming the sect must take on the character of an educational and dis­ciplinary institution, with the purpose of bringing the new generation into conformity with ideals and customs which have become traditional. Rarely does a second generation hold the convictions it has inherited with a fervor equal to that of its fathers, who fashioned these convictions in the heat of conflict at the risk of martyrdom. As generation succeeds generation, the isolation of the community from the world becomes more difficult. Furthermore, wealth frequently increases when the sect subjects itself to the discipline of asceticism in work and expenditure; with the increase of wealth the possibilities for culture also become more numerous, and involvement in the economic life of the nation as a whole can less easily be limited. Compromise begins and the ethics of the sect approach the churchly type of morals. As with the ethics, so with the doctrine, so also with the administration of religion. An official clergy, theologically educated and schooled in the refinements of ritual, takes the place of lay leadership; easily imparted creeds are substituted for the difficult enthusiasms of the pioneers; children are born into the group and infant baptism or dedication becomes once more a means of grace. So the sect becomes a church.⁵

Mr. Niebuhr is referring to class con­sciousness and class culture existing in the denominations. The sect, he points out, ap­peals to the low socio-economic classes, whereas the church appeals to the high socio-economic classes, and never the two shall meet. One church, it is concluded, cannot minister to all.

So the Anglican Church has two churches, when possible, in the same town. The Lutheran Church has two churches in the same town, one a Missouri synod and one an Augustana synod. The liturgy is com­pletely different. It doesn't seem and sound like the same church. Should Adventists have two churches in every town to meet the problems of class in our gospel, in our preaching, music, and worship?

This problem exists. In his study of church groups in a certain South Carolina county, Liston Pope came up with some interesting observations. In this commu­nity, he pointed out, there are three classes of churches. There are uptown churches, which appeal to the upper class in town; there are the mill churches, which appeal to the lower-middle class in town; and then there are the fringe churches, or the pro­test movements, which appeal to those peo­ple who feel socially ostracized and who are socially disinherited in the community.

After two years of study and attendance at every church in the county, Mr. Pope described the social implications of the church structure in this county:

Uptown churches in the county put an increasing amount of emphasis on religious education and a decreasing amount on revival meetings which have a tendency, it is felt, to be undignified and fanatical. Their choirs are usually robed and their minister speaks in a well-modulated voice. Most uptown ministers are designated by members of their congregations as "very scholarly" and are automatically called "Doctor"; ministers who bear such traditions convincingly are considered a "credit to the town" and a mark of superiority over rival churches. A minister must not be "too deep" in the pulpit, how­ever. if he wishes to hold his congregation; Gastonia prefers ministers who allegedly are scholars in the quiet of their studies but are "good talkers" in the pulpit, "good fellows" on the street, and sympa­thetic comforters in time of trouble. In a sermon, personality is more important than brains, and delivery than content. One of the first things a Gastonian will say about his preacher is that he does or does not have "a good delivery." Loudness is equated with dynamism. A preacher must speak with assurance of those "eternal verities" which everybody believes—or at least was taught in child­hood to believe. He may startle his hearers oc­casionally with some fresh insights, and thereby retain their interest, but the congregation begins to feel uneasy if his viewpoint becomes too cosmo­politan and remote. The role of the uptown min­ister, and of his church, is not to transcend the immediate cultural boundaries but to symbolize and sanction the righteous things as they are.0

And where are we? Indian summer has set in. What if another hundred years go by? What will the pressure of social class of new generations do to our church? What is it doing to our church now? To your view of things?

There are certain other implications even more penetrating than these. Some time ago Dr. Russell Dines devised a church-survey test to measure the relationship of one's socio-economic status to the type of sect or church he joins. These statistics sug­gest that there is something besides a Holy Spirit operating when people choose the church they wish to attend. The results of this study are disturbing, and they are sta­tistically significant at the 1 per cent level.

According to these studies it is impossible for any particular religious institution, denomination, or organization to appeal to all social classes, or even to cater to all social classes in any society. In essence, this conclusion simply limits the power of the gospel of Jesus Christ to make all men brothers regardless of class, caste, or social standing.

The findings of these students of human nature are disturbing. Somehow the three distinguishing doctrines that we embrace must enable us to live a life and to preach a message and to have a church that can be a challenge, and in some cases a response, an encouragement, and a help to everyone.

At this point we must conclude that were it not for the gift of prophecy, as manifested by the writings of Ellen G. White in our church, in fifty years we would be exactly where the________ are now. We would have  moved from protest against spiritual and moral evils, political and economic up­heaval in our society, to a group of peo­ple, an institution, having a vested inter­est in that which is.