I left the Seventh-day Adventist pastorate determined to reform the church. I started my own independent ministry with the usual circulation of cassettes and pamphlets attacking what I considered abuses in the church.
Why did I leave, you may wonder, and why have I now forsaken the path of self-proclaimed reformer to return to the Adventist pastoral ministry?
How could I, having been born into a Christian home, a descendant of one of the founders of the Adventist Church and an ordained minister, rebel against the brethren with whom I had worked for a decade?
A wise man stated, "All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the spirits the thoughts and intents of the heart" (Prov. 16:2, Amplified). I often quoted "there is a way which seemeth right unto a man ..." (Prov. 14:12), but failed to apply it to myself. And what minister is unaware of Isaiah's call for repentance: "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts. . . . For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord" (Isa. 55:7, 8)?
While applying these texts to my congregation I failed to apply them to myself. Such is the nature of prejudice we fail to see in ourselves what we so clearly see in others. The warning "His watchmen are blind: they are all ignorant, they are all dumb dogs, they cannot bark. . . . They are shepherds that cannot understand" (Isa. 56:10,11) was applied to my fellow ministers whom I felt were obviously not as faithful in their preaching as I.
Where does such self-righteousness begin? Originally it began in the mind of Lucifer, who communicated it to Adam and Eve, who in turn passed it down the generations to each one of us alive today.
Roots of my prejudice
Born in California and reared in the Pacific Northwest, I grew up with the belief that I had the best parents, be longed to the greatest nation on earth, received the finest Christian education, was a true member of the remnant church, had undying faith in the Spirit of Prophecy, and held no prejudices against other ethnic groups.
At the beginning of my ministry, blind to my bigotry, I cherished preconceived ideas concerning various people, races, and religions. It is surprising that I ministered as well as I did.
Inner struggles found increasing expression in my preaching. I hammered home the church's need for reform, challenging God's poor beaten sheep to climb higher and higher so that they might find the inner peace and acceptance with God that I so desperately longed for.
Fearing to admit these frustrations, I dared not reveal the existence of feelings of guilt and inadequacy that plagued me. To openly acknowledge such fears could cost me my job. I was a minister with an image to preserve. I was supposed to have all the answers.
I believed the pastor to be God's ambassador, an example in all things, holding high the standard of integrity. A pas tor was supposed to love everyone regardless of race or class, those who support him as well as those who oppose him. He is to be honored and respected by all, and is to provide an example of a life secure in God.
I believed in those ideals, yet realized how little I practiced them. The question haunted me: How could I portray to my congregation something I was not?
Coping style
Although it was not recognized as such at the time, I practiced what psychologists call "transference." Inner fears and guilt were transferred to church members and the corporate body. This brought a strange type of peace for I no longer needed to deal with the dilemma--the problems lay with the church. They were guilty before God. Therefore they must reform. They must change. As long as I lashed out against the church, I did not have to deal with myself.
How I wish I had understood the following warning: "Things will be constantly arising to cause disunion, to draw away from the truth. This questioning, criticizing, denouncing, passing judgment on others, is not an evidence of the grace of Christ in the heart. It does not produce unity. Such work has been carried on in the past by persons claiming to have wonderful light, when they were deep in sin." 1
That was me! It has taken much conflict and the passing of years to acknowledge this fact. My heavenly Father has revealed such things to me in many gentle ways.
Ministry fails
My ministry was but 5 years old when the curtain fell. Given the option of taking a leave of absence or being terminated, I chose the leave of absence. As a tunnel of darkness entombed my family, I lived the horror that I was solely to blame. Separation from the pastoral ministry only seemed to fuel the frustration. I had believed ever since the age of 18 that God had called me to the gospel ministry, but now I questioned this call.
Bitterness, rejection, guilt, fear, loneliness, and failure seemed to have made a covenant to stay with me, contaminating my wife and children as well as myself. But I was determined to learn from this experience, painful as it was. Two years of misery and searching went by before I felt ready to try again.
I was called to another conference only to discover that while much had changed, much remained the same. God allowed the same issues to come before me. It was as if the Lord was testing me to see if I had learned my lesson and matured.
A second resignation
Months rolled into years and miracles replaced defeats. Then as quickly as the doors had opened, they closed. I preached my last sermon and taught my last Bible class. I was "burned out" at 35 years of age and given only a few months to live. I had a malignant melanoma.
While this second leave of absence was for health reasons, all the old doubts and questions flooded back into my mind. I felt slighted by the lack of concern expressed by the conference. Again the questioning came--about my call to ministry; the church and its teachings; even if God existed at all. I was indeed at life's crossroads.
How would I relate to my depression, frustration, and guilt this time? Would I again transfer my feelings to others, or would I take them to Jesus and lay them at the foot of the cross? I had preached to others the theory that people must leave their burdens at Calvary, but how different it was when it came to applying the message to my life. The cup seemed too full to drink I had not yet learned the lesson of casting all my cares upon Jesus.
Independent ministry
I had decided the church needed re forming. I prepared a series of sermons in printed form and on cassettes, and scattered them worldwide. All the problems encountered, all the questions unanswered, all the doubts unresolved, were expressed in these messages. But they provided no answers, for I had none. Yet the messages were cloaked with the garb of religious piety. Once again I had re sorted to the method of guilt transference. While using the Bible to justify my actions, I had become so comfortable with this technique that it took God several years to convince me of my errors.
All the while the Saviour waited patiently for me to open my closed, self-righteous mind. For I was being used by another power: "It is the desire and plan of Satan to bring in among us those who will go to great extremes--people of narrow minds, who are critical and sharp, and very tenacious in holding their own conceptions of what the truth means. They will be exacting, and will seek to enforce rigorous duties, and go to great lengths in matters of minor importance, while they neglect the weightier matters of the law--judgment and mercy and the love of God. Through the work of a few of this class of persons, the whole body of Sabbath-keepers will be designated as bigoted, Pharisaical, and fanatical. . . .
"God has a special work for the men of experience to do. They are to guard the cause of God. They are to see that the work of God is not committed to men who feel it their privilege to move out on their own independent judgment, to preach whatever they please, and to be responsible to no one for their instructions or work. Let this spirit of self-sufficiency once rule in our midst, and there will be no harmony of action, no unity of spirit, no safety for the work, and no healthful growth in the cause. ... Christ prayed that His followers might be one as He and the Father were one. Those who desire to see this prayer answered should seek to discourage the slightest tendency to division, and try to keep the spirit of unity and love among brethren." 2
The wrong spirit had spoken through me. I knew that "the Master's message must be declared in the Master's spirit." 3 And I am convinced that "the spirit we manifest toward our brethren declares what is our spirit toward God." 4
It has been hard to admit that my spirit was on the side of the evil one, yet deep down I knew were harbored resentment, bitterness, and hatred toward certain persons in the church.
Reconciliation
I had been given six months to live, but the Lord graciously spared my life. A period of recovery gave time for reflection. At this time the Lord brought me in contact with three people who demonstrated the unconditional love of God as I had never known it before. They dared to reach out and embrace my ugliness without fear of contamination or concern for what others might think. They accepted me just as I was--bitter and self-righteous.
The first special person was a young unordained pastor who never argued with me no matter how I challenged him. I used every trick I knew to get him to debate and defend the church, but he ignored all the side issues hurled at him. Time and again he refused to take stands, which I interpreted as cowardice. Yet he never wavered from his mission to demonstrate that he truly cared for me as a person.
I was unprepared to handle this type of love, for I had never before experienced it. There was no argument that could stand up against it. If I could have such love, I thought. I would never be the same again. Even while longing for it, outwardly I continued to fight it.
Throughout my ministry I had shied away from a gospel of love, which I believed to be shallow and without real meaning. Perhaps there is a type of shallow learned behavior mistaken for love, but I realized that what I was fighting was something that could not be taught, legislated, or commanded. But thankfully it can be experienced. Encountering such love awakens love.
A semiretired conference employee was the second person to demonstrate this unconditional love. He could have been enjoying retirement, but he chose instead the ministry of reconciliation in which he found far more joy. This man considered me a brother from the first time we met. My negative stance did not seem to bother him. On the contrary, he acknowledged many mistakes the church had made and shocked me by adding others I knew nothing about, yet he still spoke well of his brethren.
How could such a man of God with such high principles love me? Was there really room in God's church for all of us? Could I still belong?
We visited many times. He was there during critical periods to pray with me and give assurance that our friendship was genuine. His love was unconditional.
A former college professor was the third special person who entered my life. We were drawn together because of our mutual desire to find answers that worked. Together we made a spiritual journey, searching the pages of Scripture. Some of my questions were also his.
One evening as we sat studying together it seemed that our minds were simultaneously impressed. A greater understanding of unconditional love so flooded our minds that our eyes flowed with unchecked tears.
Something happened that night that I will never forget. The Lord opened a corner of my heart, and a spirit of forgiveness and peace came in. Bitterness vanished as a miracle of love took place.
Since that time I have met others who have demonstrated that same unconditional love--that love that will one day unite all of God's people.
I did not intentionally try to divide my church and create additional problems for its leaders, yet that's what my actions resulted in. Even though I felt that I was only seeking answers to unresolved questions, I was wrong. I had forgotten that Scripture says men's hearts are "deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked" (Jer. 17:9).
My learning experience has not ended. Just over a year ago God led me back into the pastoral ministry and to a bitterly divided church. Having walked in bitterness, I knew how those people felt. I prayed for the same unconditional love that was shown to me. Through God's transforming grace I have seen mighty miracles take place in this church community. Unity in love prevails and reconciliation is taking place, resulting in church growth and increased attendance.
And what a joy it is to watch! Surely God has given to each one of us the ministry of reconciliation.
1 Selected Messages, book 2, p. 79.
2 E. G. White, in Review and Herald, May 29,
3 Testimonies, vol. 7, p. 266.
4 The Desire of Ages, p. 505.
