Theological diversity: A threat, an asset, or what?

Recently I discovered an Adventist section on a Web site that facilitates different faith groups.¹ An anonymous contributor offered a short analysis of the theological diversity in contemporary Seventh-day Adventism. The author suggested that Adventist theologians fall into eight categories. One end of the spectrum has “liberal” and “progressive” Adventists. On the other end are “conservative,” “extreme conservative,” and “ultra-extreme conservative” Adventists. In between are those who defend the “moral influence theory” of atonement, the “evangelical,” and the “moderate” perspectives.

Frankly, when I look at the short descriptions that are given of each category, I simply would not know where I belong. In some respects I would rather be called an “evangelical” Adventist, and in many ways I would also fit the “moderate” mold. Although the author appeared to have a thorough knowledge of the Adventist theological scene, I would argue about the classification of some of the “key figures” that were mentioned. I would definitely want to move some of them somewhat to “the left” while pushing a few to “the right.” My conclusion: categorizations such as these are, at best, of very little value.

Do we have a problem?

Nonetheless, this Web item illustrates the undeniable fact that contemporary Adventist theology has quite a few different faces. Many wonder how this has come about. How can we think so differently about divine revelation? Why do our thought leaders take us into so many, often opposite, directions? Is it because many no longer build on the Word of God? Is it because some have lost sight of the old “landmarks”? Might one of the reasons be that many Adventist theologians have received much of their intellectual formation in institutions where the presuppositions and ideas from other traditions are the standard academic fare?

But one might also ask, Is it really such an enormous problem, as many seem to think, that Adventist thinking has become much more diverse than it used to be? Is it really such a threat as many believe it is? I realize that, in asking the question, I probably betray my background. I grew up in the Netherlands, a traditionally predominantly Protestant country of rather Calvinistic vintage. Before the onslaught of rampant secularism and the dramatic decline of ecclesiastical influence on society, there was a saying that held at least some truth: Take one Dutchman and you have a theologian. Take two Dutchmen, and you have a denomination. Take three Dutchmen, and you have schism.

I grew up in an environment where theological diversity within the Calvinistic tradition was a way of life. And it did not always seem to be all that bad. It certainly fostered lively theological debate among church leaders as well as the members. But it also made me wonder whether it must, perhaps, be expected as a simple fact of life, that Christians who take the Bible as their basis will disagree on many issues since human interpretations will always be limited and imperfect.

In this brief article I would like to offer some perspectives on the theological diversity within Adventism. I realize there are also other points of view. There are probably factors that I overlook or that on which I fail to do full justice. Yet, I hope that my small contribution to the discussion can be helpful. I invite you to consider the following eight points.

1. A history of diversity. Surprisingly, many church members (and even church leaders) have a rather restricted view of the historical developments in their church, in particular with regard to the development of Adventist doctrine. Adventist truth did not miraculously drop down from heaven, as a neat package, in the late 1840s and early 1850s, but it took the better part of the nineteenth century before the Adventist teachings received their more or less definitive form. George Knight has sketched this development in a very accessible form in his book A Search for Identity: The Development of Seventh-day Adventist Beliefs.² No one can come away from reading about this development without recognizing that early Adventism was able to flourish in spite of a lot of theological diversity. At the same time, we can, with gratitude, state that the Adventist doctrinal structure that resulted, and the Adventist sense of identity and common mission that still gives vitality to our movement, continues to be strong enough, in spite of all diversity, to guarantee an underlying unity that compares very favorably with that of many other confessional families.³

2. Theology as an organic process. Theologians do not work in a cultural or philosophical vacuum. They usually operate within a particular faith community or, at the very least, feel an affinity with a particular faith tradition and with specific methodologies. That is why we have various kinds of “western” and “nonwestern” theologies and tend to apply numerous other labels to the men and women who are involved in the study of theology. Fritz Guy has succinctly stressed what is involved in “thinking theologically” from an Adventist perspective. He points out how “tripolar thinking” is essential for Adventist theology. Tripolar thinking must be related to three “poles,” three fundamental concerns, “that mutually support and limit each other in a creative spiritual and theological interaction.”⁴ These three are the Christian gospel, the cultural context, and the Adventist heritage. This interaction will lead to an underlying unity in our approach to theological issues, but it will also allow for a significant degree of diversity. “It is,” Guy maintains, “as mistaken to imagine that Adventist experience, practice, and belief can be exactly the same in every place, as it is to suppose that it can be exactly the same in every generation.”⁵

3. Fairness to one another. Adventists are not always fully exempt from the tendency of making a caricature of those with whom they disagree—by misstating facts, quoting rather selectively, and placing undue emphases. Unfortunately, the open and constructive discussion between Adventist theologians can, at times, also be clouded by unfair representations of other “schools” of thought. Those at the more conservative side of the church may talk and write about their “liberal” brothers and sisters as if, by definition, they no longer take the Scriptures seriously, have lost their faith, and are no longer to be considered “genuine” Adventists. The liberals often have a tendency to look with some kind of pity or even disdain at their conservative attackers, as hopelessly out of touch with contemporary scholarship and stuck in an outdated fundamentalism and indefensible biblicism.

Labeling others is a dangerous business that usually does no justice to all aspects of the ideas of the other. It creates distance and distrust instead of a willingness to carefully listen and constructively dialogue in our common search for a deeper understanding of the Christian faith, within the context of our own specific heritage. A more fruitful approach is found in a recent book by Alden Thompson, who convincingly argues that liberals and conservatives in the church need each other. If the liberals dominate the discourse, we run the risk that the boundaries of what we believe become too vague or may disappear, but, if the conservatives fully have their way, the boundaries may be so rigid that all further searching for a better understanding of what we believe, and how we would communicate it, is halted.⁶

4. Responsibility to the community. All theological activity—whether it be thinking, teaching, or writing— must be characterized by integrity. It should be devoid of all political positioning. Those who devote themselves to the study and proclamation of divine revelation should be true in how they present themselves and share their opinions. That excludes any attempts to be perceived as conservative in view of one’s denominational role or career perspectives just as much as it is incongruent with a desire to project an image of progressiveness.

Theologians must realize their influence—either direct or indirect— on the faith community to which they belong and/or in which they engage in their work. The discussion about the values of academic freedom and loyalty to one’s faith community will probably never cease. Questions will remain as to how far this loyalty should go. Does it imply an unqualified support for all denominational doctrinal statements, and an unquestioning obedience to the church’s administrators? Does it mean that one must expect the denominational publishers to refrain from publishing any viewpoints that are in some tension with established Adventist tradition?

At the very least, I believe, there ought to be frequent opportunities where theologians can talk about what unites them and what divides them in a nonjudgmental and nonthreatening setting. Too often the left and the right talk mostly among themselves, in their own academic fraternities, and decry how far the others have strayed from pure doctrine or how irrelevant they have become, rather than to probe together where they can find common ground or how one’s position could be enriched or nuanced by the standpoint of the other.

But theology is not just for professionals—teachers, authors, editors. The church members ought to be informed, in accessible lay language, about the theological issues on the table. The various options must be honestly described. An atmosphere must be created in which the sense can prevail that truth is always greater than we ever can fathom and that all our interpretations are human and will, by definition, remain incomplete.

5. The responsibility of leadership. We often distinguish between “church leaders” and “theologians.” This is a very imprecise way of classifying people. Many church administrators are trained theologians and have a background in college or university teaching. At the same time, although the majority of the church’s theologians do not hold administrative positions, they must certainly be viewed as leaders. They teach future pastors and other church employees, advise on many issues, and tend to be appointed to study commissions. They have access to the pulpit, give lectures, and hold seminars. And they write. All of this means they are important thought leaders. It brings a heavy responsibility.

Leaders must lead. They must recognize the direction the church is heading, advise on the path, and signal the dangers and clearly communicate the destination. They fail in their leadership role if they just follow the crowd or push the travelers from behind, only focused on where they have come from rather than pointing to where they must go. Like any metaphor, this one has its limitations. But at least one more point is valid: leaders must never be so far ahead of those who follow that they can no longer be seen. Theologians owe this to their faith community, to be at the forefront, to scout the land of ideas; but to always stay close to the people they attempt to lead.

6. Do not major in minors. Often, bitter battles are fought over relatively minor issues. Yet, amazingly enough, major deviations with regard to core doctrines may cause only limited commotion. The reason may well be an inadequate distinction between what is crucial and what is less crucial.

It would seem, however, that most believers sense that some issues are more vital to our faith and our commitment to God than others. There are things people must believe if they want to be entitled to the name “Christian,” and you cannot claim to be an Adventist if you do not subscribe to a number of core beliefs. Admittedly, differentiating between “more crucial” and “less essential” doctrines can easily become a very subjective exercise. It must, therefore, be embedded in the experience of the larger faith community but to make some distinctions seems justified.⁷ Ministry magazine has published some articles that have made valuable suggestions in that direction and other Adventist publications have done likewise.⁸ The intensity of our reaction to ideas that differ from our own opinions—and which we would consider as unscriptural and un-Adventist—should be guided by whether or not a truly crucial issue is at stake.

7. Look for unity. I have finally come to the point at which I am looking more avidly for signs of unity than for signs of diversity. Not for a moment do I want to deny the very real challenges of the theological diversity among us. But I do not want that to make me blind to the wonderful degree of unity that continues to prevail in the Adventist community. Whatever label we may give to others or others may give to us, it is marvelous to see that, in most cases, there is far more that binds us than what divides us.⁹

When one looks at what proponents from different currents within Adventism tell us they believe, we notice that they are held together by important convictions. I know there are different perspectives on the inspiration of the Bible, but I know of no Adventist theologian who does not, in some way, take the Bible very seriously. I realize we have differences in Christology, but I know of no Adventist colleague for whom Christ means nothing but a human person and who does not believe that He is our present Mediator and that in the near future He will return to this earth. I know of no serious theologian who denies the value of the Sabbath and still calls himself or herself a Seventh-day Adventist. I hear everywhere within Adventism about the same wholistic view of human nature and “conditional immortality.” In spite of many different theories about the end-time events, I do not think there are many (if any) Adventists who have rejected the biblical teaching that human history, as we know it, will end and that Adventists have a special mission in preparation for that. And for all it is clear that faith affects lifestyle and that stewardship and discipleship are close twins. And so on.

Let us rejoice in this unity, while we think and talk in a Christian way about our theological concerns and the problems we see in some propositions put forward by others.

8. God can take care of Himself. When everything is said and done, we must recognize that truth is not our truth, but God’s Truth. And the church is not my church, or your church, but God’s church. We have our responsibilities. We must guard our integrity. We must, in spite of all our imperfections, each with our own backgrounds and experiences, “do” theology as faithful servants of our Lord. We must honor our responsibilities with regard to the faith community that we have chosen as our spiritual home. But in the end, it is not our work. We do not own the eternal gospel. As human beings we can only have a limited understanding of God and His plan of salvation. The biblical message, however, leaves no doubt: His truth will ultimately conquer—in spite of our weaknesses and misunderstandings.

And God can take care of Himself.