Stephen
Terry, Director
Jesus and the Apostles' View of the Bible
Commentary
for the April 18, 2020 Sabbath School Lesson
"You have
heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person.
If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And
if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If
anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who
asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you."" Matthew 5:38-42,
NIV
When
Jesus was 12 years old and accompanied his parents to the Passover in
Jerusalem, after the celebration, the members of his extended family all left
for home, but eventually his parents found that he was not among them. Worried,
they returned to Jerusalem and searched the city for three days, eventually
finding him in the temple. I can hardly imagine what it must have been like for
Mary to be chosen to be the mother of the Messiah and then to lose him. Perhaps
that was behind his rebuke of her for not looking for him where he would
rightfully be found, engaged in God his father's business.
The
biblical account tells us that he was with the teachers in the temple and they
were astounded at his wisdom. This may imply that he was sharing with them
perspectives on their faith that they, with all their learning and study, had
been unable to ferret from the text. With thousands of years of study, there
remained new insights to be gained. Is it possible that the same is true today?
Or has everything now been revealed and the only thing remaining is to admit
that truth is now sealed in an iron harness, incapable of moving present understanding
one iota from where it currently stands? This question may be vital to our
salvation, for it was an opinion apparently held by many at the time of Jesus'
incarnation. Bible scholars abounded then for not only did they dispute with
Jesus in the temple when he was only twelve, they also were able to accurately search
the scriptures and give Herod an answer as to where the Messiah was to be born.
Yet in the face of such literacy, they had not plucked essential wisdom from
the word, wisdom that Jesus would later share almost two decades later during
his earthly ministry. How could this have happened? Is it possible for us to
make the same mistake? Are we so proud of our biblical knowledge that we have
become unteachable, hidebound by long accepted interpretations of scripture
that no one dares question because a majority has now accepted them? Almost two
centuries ago, William Miller, and later a nascent group of individuals who
would eventually give birth to the Seventh-day Adventist denomination said,
"No." While William Miller fumbled the ball in predicting the
Parousia would take place in 1844, he made many aware that truth was not
settled in his day. The Adventists picked up that fumbled ball and ran with it,
introducing new understandings of the prophetic books of Daniel and Revelation.
They also brought back, against the wishes of the established majority, the
Sabbath of Genesis, Moses, and Jesus.
One
might have expected that they would carry that ball across the goal line to the
Parousia, but that has not been the case. Instead, the people who originally
proclaimed sola scriptura, or the Bible only,
as their guiding light have, with each passing decade, sought more and more to
set singular interpretations of scripture in fast hardening cement as
"foundations" for Christian belief. This same process, with the
backing of the state, was a primary characteristic of the post-Nicene church, a
process that eventually necessitated the Reformation when individuals like
Luther, Calvin and Zwingli stepped outside the boundaries of accepted
denominational interpretations to challenge those hoary doctrines with fresh
insights. In doing this, they mirrored what Jesus had done long before. Just as
he sought to set the people free from the interpretations that had bound them
to spiritually unprofitable relationships with God and each other, the
reformers sought to do in their day. As Jesus paid with his life for
challenging those long established tenets, some of the reformers did as well.
This is the tradition that the Seventh-day Adventist Church claims descent
from.
Therefore,
we might expect the Adventist church to be accommodating to new understandings
based on the progressive nature of spiritual growth. This would be bucking the
trend, for it seems that the nature of religion once they have discovered new
truth is to bind it up with other doctrines into creedal statements with only
one purpose, to define if you are a member of that denomination or not, with
the strong implication that the boundaries of denominationalism are also the boundaries
between saints and sinners. By definition then, the creed becomes salvific. One
might state that the creed is only based on the Bible, but this carries with it
even more distressing connotations. It implies first that the creed is equal to
the Bible in authority, and second that one, and only one, understanding of any
given text is possible. This means that the creed must be immutable but the
process of their creation disproves that for creeds do not usually come about
instantly as whole cloth. They evolve in response to perceived heresies and
challenges to the authority of the church. They cannot then be immutable except
by the declaration of the church exercising an authority similar to that of the
pope when speaking ex cathedra. Some might feel that since it is a
council or conference rather than a single pope making such a determination,
they are protected from error. However, it was a council, Vatican I, meeting in
the 19th century that brought ex cathedra as well as the
veneration of Mary, the mother of Jesus into Roman Catholicism. Truth does not
always reside with a majority vote. These are both doctrines repudiated by many
Protestants, who, nonetheless, seem to be following a similar path in binding
up the faith according to their peculiar understanding.
But
if truth is malleable and progressive over time, how are they able to find a
foundation for such hardened doctrinal positions? The answer is that they bind
up their dogma with cords of literalism. We have seen several examples of this
with the Seventh-day Adventist creed known familiarly as "The 28
Fundamental Beliefs." A recent egregious example of such a change is the
limiting of the perspective on Creation to "seven literal days," synonymous
with "what we call a week today." Why have they done this? Science
has advanced the frontiers of truth to such an extent that it challenges the power
of the church in much the same way that Luther challenged Rome and each of us
is faced with a choice; do we believe what we see or what we are told? Some of
the early stories from scripture are no longer scientifically tenable in any
literal sense. But since the creedal process requires a literal understanding
to remain immutable, the church may disavow the evidence and proclaim that a
nebulous faith and not science, is the only source of truth. But faith in what?
Faith in Christ? Hardly. If we accept Jesus as the author of Creation, we would
not expect his position to be in conflict with observable natural processes.
Perhaps the real demand is to have faith in the church or a particular
denomination. But it is hard to have faith in something that has so many
iterations, with each denomination often conflicting with the others, all the
while each proclaiming to be the true church.
In
spite of the disengaged opaqueness of many denominations when it comes to who
actually holds the reins of power and how that power is funded, the church may
be like the proverbial ostrich with its head stuck in the sand if it thinks the
parishioners or the public do not discern that the compassion, grace and love
modeled by Jesus are not represented as essential to many church budgets. The church,
and Protestantism is included, often sees itself as the defender of the faith
against tyranny and oppression, but all too often, with literalism as a tool to
that end, the church is the entity standing on the parapets, keeping the
protesting rabble at bay, and protecting biblical interpretations whose only
relevance is to keep the entrenched powers in play. Within the Seventh-day
Adventist denomination that is particularly poignant for one of the early
founders of the denomination, Ellen White, frequently railed against those same
halls of power. We won't find that in popular books like "The Desire of
Ages" or "Steps to Christ," but the "Testimonies" are
rife with it, including how she felt victimized by those in power. Ironically,
those same institutions now use cherry-picked quotes from her works to support
the very same power plays she rebuked.
What
is the answer then? Perhaps it is to be found in returning to the Reformation.
Maybe we need to stop accepting spoon-fed Christianity given to us by
institutions more vested in remaining in power and keeping the rivers of gold flowing
in their direction. In Luther's day, those rivers built Saint Peter's Basilica,
much to his dismay. What are they building today? How much simply goes into the
black holes of maintaining the ability of the church to exercise global power
and prestige? The life of Paul tells us that carrying the gospel to the world
meant learning a trade and moving to a new city to practice that trade and
support oneself while sharing the message of Christ. How did such a simple and
effective process become so complex and ineffective? Perhaps it happened because
we allowed institutions to co-opt our faith for their own ends.
