Part XVI :: My Deconstruction
Back on the coast, it was time to begin the work as an AFM-trained missionary. Was anything really different now? Armed with all kinds of knowledge, the main different thing was my view of the church. AFM opened my eyes in ways that I don’t think anyone ever imagined. But they were not yet all the way open. With that said, my deconstruction would come quickly now. Quicker than I ever imagined.
It had now almost been a year since we had traveled, and I decided a trip to Peru sounded lovely. I needed to get away from everything that had happened since coming back from the United States. I was the only AFM trainee who juggled a full-time writing job while also going to class every day, working out, and raising a child. I decided to use
some of our airline miles and spend the winter somewhere warm. I felt a little getaway was deserved.
At AFM I decided I wanted to start marketing my Disrupting Adventism book to a large population. I felt that it needed to be read. During this period I stumped upon a group on Reddit comprised of people who had left the church. Much of what they discussed with similar to the things that I had gone through. Abuse from extremist elders and churches with traditionalist views was discussed in great detail. In addition, the allegations of sexual abuse were rife. During AFM training I heard a lot about the various forms of abuse that had gone on in churches. This type of abuse was often unchecked. Rather, it was swept under the rug. I was shaken by this. I was taken back to the words of Ellen White that states “The church, enfeebled and defective though it be, is the only object on earth on which Christ bestows His supreme regard.” In Disrupting Adventism, I had written how the offshoots miscalculated by attacking this organization. I had asserted it was perfect. I had been led, for years, to believe that the church’s reputation was to be protected at all costs. Yet, now I saw the human cost of protecting the church’s reputation. I heard and read story after story of sexual abuse being hidden to protect church leaders, pastors, teachers, and others.
I had become very interested in following the Reddit board. Yet, at first, had a hard time accepting it. I spent time arguing with those who shared their stories, stating that they were dealing with extremists. I told them about my time at Countryside, pointing toward my blog. “The SDA church is not evil, you have to give it another chance. You just were involved in the wrong church.” I sang the praises of AFM, saying that many Adventists were accepting and that it was different there. I tried to prove that some Adventists can be open to different ways of living. I mentioned how some in our classes even ate cheese and eventually let down their guard. Yet, I could not deny that many of the stories I was reading about did not come from obscure offshoots, but from Conference powerhouses, academies, and universities. I also realized that there was too much legalism in the church and that it had to come from somewhere. But where?
Going to Peru was a much-needed vacation, yet I felt incredible guilt for taking a vacation three short months after getting back from AFM. I was supposed to be doing missionary work, not hanging out in South America and having the time of my life. My time in Lima began with a nasty stomach bug that incapacitated me for about a week. I wish I could have just sat in bed and slept during this week, but we had planned a trip to Cuzco and Machu Picchu during this period, so a long bus ride was reserved and we needed to make the trip or fork over money we had already deposited for the train to the famous site. That was not going to happen, so I dragged myself to the bus station and onto the bus.
During this time I was still doing freelance writing, but in between, I took the chance to read the forums. Being physically distant from the church for the first time in a very long time, I started to reflect on the various forms of abuse that I saw in the church. I also came to realize that the god I had been led to worship was more of a “works-obsessed demon god” than a loving father. I decided to post this on my Facebook page. “My religion demanded perfection in all things…”
I talked about how my wife told me that I had expected everything to be perfect in life, and how it wasn’t. I reflected on how that had been a part of my entire religious experience. “We were to achieve perfection through works. From how we ate, drank, read, what we spent our time thinking about, and every little detail of life.” I reflected on how Ellen White told us to not read fiction, and how fiction leads to insanity.
“many an inmate of the insane asylum, has become such through the habit of novel reading…The only safety for the inebriate, and the only safeguard for the
temperate man, is total abstinence. For the lover of fiction the same rule holds true. Total abstinence is his only safety” (Ministry of Healing, 446).
I reflected on how every thought of the Adventist is weighed.
“I have seen an angel standing with scales in his hands weighing the thoughts and interest of the people of God, especially the young. In one scale were the thoughts and interest tending heavenward; in the other were the thoughts and interest tending to earth. And in this scale were thrown all the reading of storybooks, thoughts of dress and show, vanity, pride, et cetera. Oh, what a solemn moment! the angels of God standing with scales, weighing the thoughts of His professed children—those who claim to be dead to the world and alive to God. The scale filled with thoughts of earth, vanity, and pride quickly went down, notwithstanding weight after weight rolled from the scale. The one with the thoughts and interest tending to heaven went quickly up as the other went down, and oh, how light it was! I can relate this as I saw it; but never can I give the solemn and vivid impression stamped upon my mind, as I saw the angel with the scales weighing the thoughts and interest of the people of God. Said the angel: “Can such enter heaven? No, no, never. Tell them the hope they now possess is vain, and unless they speedily repent, and obtain salvation, they must perish” (Maranatha, 42).
I thought about how none will enter into Heaven without a starless crown:
“There will be no one saved in heaven with a starless crown.” (Signs of the Times, June 6, 1982).
We are told:
1. Only God is perfect and we are not nor can be perfect like God; and
2. We need to be perfect like God or we will be destroyed.
“Subjection to the will of Christ means restoration to perfect manhood” (Ministry of Healing, 131).
Yet, I had never met a perfect person. More troubling was the idea that no two people could seem to agree on what was considered perfect.
I talked about how God was not a “good father” to me. How if He expected
perfection out of me, did he love me more than I loved my daughter? I loved my
daughter even when she was not perfect.
"God loves honest-hearted, truthful children, but cannot love those who are
dishonest…The Lord loves those little children who try to do right, and he has promised that they shall be in his kingdom. But wicked children God does not love." (An Appeal to the Youth, p. 61)
I wondered, why can not God love disobedient children, yet I can love my own child, even when disobedient. Is God really love? I had been told, over the years, how the Lord would not hear our prayers if we did wrong, or how he would not suffer his angels to follow us into theaters. Yet, if God was truly a God of love, why would He not?
I could not imagine ignoring my own child or sending protection with her, no matter how much she strayed. I wondered: Did I love my daughter more than God loved me? I realized that the God I had been presented with was not a God of love. The Ellen White God, and the traditionalist Adventist God is not a loving God.
“I never demanded my daughter to be perfect…I always loved her
imperfections…There is no way I would worship a God that did not love me as much as I loved my little girl, and I don’t think Adam or Enoch would have, either.”
Somewhere along the way, I had been led to believe that it was my duty to save my child. That Christ’s sacrifice was not enough.
“How terrible will it be in the last great day to find that those whom we have been
familiarly associated are separated from us forever; to see the members of our families, perhaps our own children, unsaved; to find those who have visited our homes, and eaten at our tables, among the lost. Then we shall ask ourselves the question, Was it because of my impatience, my un-Christlike disposition; was it because self was not under control, that the religion of Christ became distasteful to them?” (Ellen White, Christian Service, 91.3)
“Children are the lawful prey of the enemy because they are not subjects of grace, have not experienced the cleansing power of the blood of Jesus, and the evil angels have access to these children; and some parents are careless and suffer them to work with but little restraint” (Ellen White, Review & Herald, Sept. 19, 1854).
Sadly, my trip nor my words were well received. We found out that it would be difficult, almost impossible, to get funding after taking our trip. A shame. I was also told my posts caused some in our local church to become quite angry. Phone calls were made. Perfection demands that one is perfect in their words, and does not question the status quo. In short, my views as I had expressed them were quickly proven correct. Now, at the beginning of our missionary journey, some members of the church were already angry at me. I was told that the local church would no longer be helping out with our utilities. I never knew if that was related to my words or not. Many who were previously friendly now decided to back off. I was no longer the person who stood in front of their church and preached from the highly esteemed words of Sister Ellen White. I no longer carried the Countryside mindset. While I was finding that I was more accepting towards others, I felt the church looked at me as if I was now open to a sinful lifestyle. It is funny how acceptance is like a scale. Once you become more accepting, others will become less accepting of you. It is a hard thing to balance.
There were other changes in our lifestyles. Unlike our first time in Queets, we were no longer vegan and started to eat fish. I no longer expected or needed the people to come to church. Showing Christ meant being nice to others—but I didn’t need to be nice in order to get others to think like me. In fact, I didn’t want people to think as I did. I was fine with them being themselves. If someone wanted to spend time with their family on the Sabbath or even go shopping, I had no desire to judge it. With everything I was taking in from the Reddit forum, I was starting to question a lot.
I started becoming more open to culture. Before I would be afraid of our daughter trick-or-treating. On Halloween, I realized that it was a chance for her to be with her friends and enjoy the culture. It didn’t mean she would be possessed by demons or worshiped Satan. Before I was terrified of her watching shows with magic in them. We decided to let her do the same. After all, we did it when we were children, and did it destroy us? I realized that a lot was based on insecurity and fear. People in Adventism did all sorts of different things. The problem was that the more conservative and fearful were the loudest and most controlling by far. Everything could be traced back to Satan. I saw this at AFM during training. So much was tied to demon possession that it was sometimes comical. To live in constant fear of Satan seems to be at odds with believing in the power of a risen savior. Yet, fear sells and brings people into the pews. It also keeps people following endless and oftentimes arbitrary rules.
This was a huge time of growth for me. After AFM’s training program, I was
looking at religion quite differently. It was a completely different world than countryside, but that isn’t to say it didn’t have its own faults. Yet, it was far more open and human. This brought me to a new age of discovery and started me on a journey of rethinking the church and what I believed. I was also going deeper into my research and starting to question some of the basic aspects of Adventism. Although I had yet to research Ellen White, I was starting to feel that there was not something right about all of it. I started looking at other branches of Christianity and other religions as having some very positive aspects of belief that Adventism lacked. Before, the idea was that they were a part of Babylon. I believed that I should ignore them. After AFM, my view changed. They had something to bring to the table and were worth looking deeper into.
Around this time of discovery, I wrote a story about some Mormon friends who had stopped by. I used to feel guilty because I did not argue with people from other faiths. I felt that God had sent them to me as a test to win them over. How else would I get that first star if I did not convince them that my way of thinking was correct? Yet, as they talked with us, I just listened and agreed to try to read the Book of Mormon. I made a point to agree with them on every commonality we had, and I did not care to tell them much about my own beliefs (which were quickly shifting).
I wanted to talk more about my quickly-changing religious view and felt annoyed at how the nearby church had seemed to ostracize us for our beliefs. I had been reading on the Reddit board that once you are in the sights of the church, some will spy on you. I was curious if the distant individuals who had reported on my posts from Peru were still observing what I was saying. I was not friends with any of them on Facebook, so if they saw it, they were “checking up” on me.
I posted the following story:
I thought today would be just like any other day. I could smell the scent of a
delicious lunch being made. The aroma tickled my nose. Lasagna with white sauce. It was something I had not made in a while. It sat in the oven as the top layer of cheese began to slightly caramelize. I felt my stomach growl as I stood up. I made my way toward the kitchen, to remove it from the oven when all of a sudden there was a knock at the door.
"Who could it be?" I asked myself. I saw two young men, both wearing white dress shirts and sleek black pants. Both had a book in their hand. Their hair was
combed back. One was blond and tall, and the other had mouse-brown hair. He was a bit shorter than the other.
I opened the door as my wife turned off the oven.
"Hello," I said, looking down at the book the men were holding. It was a copy of the book of Mormon.
"Can we come in?" the tall one asked.
"Sure," I said. "Please do."
"Smells good in here," the shorter one with the brown hair said.
"Thank you. We were just cooking lunch."
"Smells absolutely delicious," the tall one said. "By the way, I'm Elder Eric
Wilson."
"I'm Elder John Marshall," the other one said.
"Oh, I'm [name],” I said. "And this is my wife."
"Nice to meet you," they both said.
"Come sit down," I said.
"You don't mind? We are not interrupting your lunch are we?" the Elder Wilson said.
"Oh no, it was... I mean, we just ate," I lied.
My wife grimaced.
"Are you sure," Elder Wilson said.
I went back on my lie. "Well, I ate breakfast not so long ago," I said.
"We really hate to interrupt," Elder Wilson said.
"It's alright, come, sit down," I said.
So we all sat down and made ourselves comfortable.
"beautiful day," Elder Marshall said.
"Yes, very beautiful," Elder Wilson said. I nodded.
"What brings you here today?" I asked.
"We are missionaries," Elder Wilson said. "And we wanted to tell you about
Jesus Christ."
"I see," I said, smiling. These were not the first Mormon men to come to our house. They would probably not be the last.
"What can you tell me about Jesus," I asked.
"Well, for starters, have you heard of the Book of Mormon?" Elder Marshall said, handing me the book. Elder Wilson frowned. "Maybe before we show the book we can talk a bit," Elder Wilson said.
"Oh, yes, I forgot," Elder Marshall said, grabbing the book back.
I looked across the room. A copy of the Book of Mormon was placed on one of the book shelves. I had yet to read it.
"I actually already have the book," I said.
"Are you a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints?" Elder Marshall said quickly. Excitement lit up his young eyes.
"Not exactly," I said. I breathed deeply. My heart began to beat quicker.
"I see," elder Marshall replied, looking down in disappointment.
We were silent for a moment and then I broke the silence.
"I am a Seventh-day Adventist," I said.
"A whoda whatta?" Elder Marshall said.
"Elder Marshall," Elder Wilson snapped.
"Sorry," Elder Marshall said, looking down.
"He's... new at this."
"I see," I said. "So am I."
"You are a missionary?" Elder Wilson asked.
"Well, I kind of was. I'm just a human being now," I said.
"Missionaries are humans!" Elder Marshall said.
"That's not what I meant," I said. I took a deep breath and added. "What I mean is...well, can I ask you both a question?" I said.
"Yes," they both answered at the same time.
"What makes Mormonism unique?"
"Well, we have a prophet, Joseph Smith, and he went to the Americas and..."
I smiled as they told me the story.
"We have a prophet, too. Her name is Ellen White, and God spoke to her."
Elder Marshall frowned. It must have sounded strange to him. I could tell by the way his lips curled and his eyes seemed to glaze over.
"Well, we have the Book of Mormon, which is a continuation of the Bible."
"Does it tell you more about the Bible?"
"It tells us about how God worked in the Americas."
"We also have a book about how God is working in the Americas. It's called The Great Controversy."
Elder Marshall's nostrils began to flare a bit as I spoke.
"It's okay, I said, smiling. Do you believe that the end of the world is coming
soon?"
"Yes!"
"So do I."
"But we believe that there are ordinances that must be done before Jesus returns and that he is coming soon.”
"Ordinances?" I asked.
"Yes, like baptism and celestial marriage," Elder Marshall said, smiling.
"I see. We also believe that Jesus is coming back and that there are certain things that will happen. Tell me, will more Mormons be saved than non-Mormons?"
"Well," Elder Marshall said, getting quiet.
Elder Wilson interrupted. "Let's just say that those who do not know about the ordinances will learn about them when in Heaven.”
“Well, let me tell you that I was I told more Seventh-day Adventists will be saved than any other denomination.”
The look on the faces of both of the young men was like a deer in the headlights.
I smiled.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” I said. "We all have our own faith. We all have our own prophet. Our own books. Our own end times beliefs and scenarios. We all believe in the message of our religion. Tell me, did you grow up Mormons?”
“Yes!” they both said.
"I didn’t grow up an Adventist,” I said. “But let me tell you that I think that your Mormonism is just as valid is Seventh-day Adventism," I added.
“W-what do you mean,” Elder Wilson stammered.
"What I mean is that we all believe in something we were taught, but have no real proof of. And there’s no way to know who is right. You can believe all you want in the book of Mormon, and I can believe all I want in The Great Controversy, but at the end of the day, we live in the same world.”
"But, I know the Book of Mormon is the truth, I mean, let me show you,” Elder Marshall said, fumbling at the pages of his book.
“I had a Jehovah’s Witness friend when I was young and he also knew that his religion was right. His religion had their own books, their own prophet, their own rules.”
“Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Elder Wilson sneered.
“Yes, and the Methodists, and the Baptists. They are just as adamant that their ways are the true way.”
"But we have the truth!” Elder Marshall shouted.
"That’s what I was told, too.”
“You sound like you don’t believe you do,” Elder Wilson said.
I took a deep breath. I could smell the lasagna had burned. In fact, the house was starting to stink of it. Nobody had said anything."
I think that your Book of Mormon, your Joseph Smith, my Great Controversy, my Ellen White, and all that is just a way to keep us away from Jesus.” My wife gasped.
Elder Marshall dropped his Book of Mormon. Elder Wilson let out an even bigger gasp.
“What I mean to say is that we have been fooled. That’s as nice as I can put it.”
“I do not think so!” Elder Marshall said.
“Of course not. You grew up a Mormon. My Adventist friends who grew up
Adventist would never agree with me.”
“Are you saying that we are only Mormon because our parents are?” Elder
Wilson asked.
“Basically. It’s all you ever knew. Tell me, if you were to stop being a Mormon right now, what would you do?”
The look on the young men’s face made me aware that they had never once considered this idea. They both looked like a deer starting at a semi truck barreling down the highway on a cold winter night. "Maybe the Book of Mormon will tell you,” I said.
"Hey!” Elder Marshall said.
"Let it go,” Elder Wilson said as his hand rested on his shoulder.
"I don’t mean to be rude, but I am just asking you, what would you do?”
"I would never think to leave my faith,” Elder Marshall hissed.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I said. “I used to think the same.”
"Yet, you changed your. mind? Why?" Elder Wilson asked.
"Because I have watched as different denominations have placed their traditions, their prophets, their ways of interpreting the Bible, and their end times messages on a pedestal. All of them are so different, yet only one can be right. Whose is it? Is it your prophet or mine? Or is it another prophet? Or is your Book of Mormon more inspired than the books we have?”
“My book is the truth!” Elder Marshall said.
“Listen, I am leaving. Elder Wilson, we were told to dust off our shoes if anyone would not receive our message.”
“You can leave. Or you can stay and tell me what makes your faith the truth. I am willing to listen.”
“You can read this book with an open mind and tell us if it’s the truth or not when we come back,” Elder Marshall said, handing me The Book of Mormon.
"I have a copy already,” I said, pointing to the bookcase.
"And have you read it?”
"No,” I said.
“Why not?” Elder Marshall asked.
"I have been busy.”
"If you read it, you will see it’s the truth.”
"You can read my book. It’s also the truth.”
“But you said it’s different,” Elder Marshall said.
“It is. But to millions of Adventists it’s the truth.”
“Is it to you?”
"It’s just as much of the truth as the Book of Mormon or the Tao Te Ching or Chicken Soup for the Soul,” I said.
“The Tao Te Ching is a pagan philosophy book,” Elder Marshall said.
“I know, but to millions of Taoists, it’s the truth.”
“What are you getting at?” Elder Marshall asked.
“What I’m saying is that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try,
there’s no way you can ever prove that your beliefs are the total truth. Tell me, why would God only give the truth to some people and leave everyone else in the dark?”
“We are going around to bring people the light!” Elder Wilson said.
"That’s what I was doing, too. But in the end, it was just more darkness. And that’s what millions of other missionaries from every faith are doing as well. Everyone is just exchanging their beliefs and still, nobody knows what the truth is.”
“We have the truth!” Elder Marshall said.
“I know. I know so many Adventists who do as well.” "But they don’t have the
truth! Even you said that.”
“I didn’t say that they didn’t have it. I said that I didn’t have it.”
"That’s the same thing, if you don’t have the truth then they don’t.”
“Everyone has the truth and nobody has the truth. That’s the thing about religion.”
"I don’t understand,” Elder Marshall said.
“It’s all a game,” I said.
“A game?” Elder Marshall replied, almost seeming perturbed at the idea.
"Yes, a game. Ask yourself, do the top people in your church follow the same rules as the little guys?”
“What do you mean?”
"Do they tell you how you are supposed to live, while their lives are completely different. For example, do they tell you to behave a certain way, but those rules don’t apply to them? Or do they tell you to give everything you have to spread the faith, while they live in big houses, make lots of money, and do what they want?”
Both of the elders were silent, and in that moment, I knew that I had struck
something.
After a moment of silence, Elder Wilson asked, “is it like that in Adventism?”
“Of course,” I said. “We are told to not be political, while the top brass is very political, weaving politics in their sermons like it’s an egg on french toast. We are told to give our time and money, to not strive or be ambitious, but that it’s okay for the top guns to do those things.”
“You sound bitter,” Elder Wilson said.
“I would not say I am as bitter as I am sad. At one time I believed, but I realized that there was literally nothing to believe in.”
“Do you believe in God?” Elder Wilson asked.
"Whose God? Who is God? I have been to so many churches who said He was so many different things, yet at the end, the God I was presented with was not the God I read about in the Bible.”
“You just have not found the right religion yet,” Elder Marshall said, fumbling a bit with his Book of Mormon.
"Have you ever considered that there are over 40,000 Christian denominations in the world. There are over 200 in the United States. If God wanted us to know what the right one was, why did He bring us into this world with blank minds? If it’s so important we know follow the true religion, why were we not born with that knowledge? Do you not think that it’s cruel to be told that there is a “true” religion out there and have no clue which one it is. What makes your religion more true than any of the others that I see around here? What makes mine more correct than the Shaker church down the road? Nothing.”
“But they don’t have the testimony of Jesus in the new world!”
I began to laugh. I didn’t mean to. I could not help it. These two young men were trying so hard to persuade me of something that I could never be persuaded of. It was as if their lives and salvation depended on it. I saw the fear in their eyes as I laughed. The fear of God striking them for not getting me to believe in their version of the truth. It was the same fear that I am sure many in my own church would feel when they found out that I was a lost cause. Man, it felt good to laugh like that. But, when I was done, all I saw were two young men glaring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I started to say, but I recanted. I was not sorry. It felt good to let all that out. It felt good to see everything for as it was. A game. A power struggle. A crutch. Oppression even. Going through the motions because we were raised in the motions. Just like how a baby pig knows to roll in the mud. He was taught it—he knew nothing different. And he will continue to do until the day he is slaughtered. Cast the pearls to the swine. Maybe that’s what all these denominations were. Just a bunch of useless “pearls.”
“There’s nothing more for us to say here,” Elder Wilson said, standing up.
“Thank you and have a good day.”
Elder Marshall looked towards Elder Wilson with a look of horror on his face. I could tell there was something going on in that mind of his. What if we are wrong. How utterly terrifying, especially for someone who grew up only being told that they had the truth. Imagine how that messes with a person. Your whole world begins to fall apart.
Everything around you takes on a whole new meaning. The trees, the animals, the sky.
The way we look at other people. The way we read certain books. The way we think of ourselves and those who we used to think were lost. Now we are maybe one of them?
Maybe it’s all a big scary mystery? Maybe he was thinking back to the primordial darkness that was once his mind as he was being formed. Knowing absolutely nothing at all. And now he would need to figure out a way to grow comfortable with the knowledge that he knows very little about his world, and reshape his world view as a young adult. I felt bad for him, because I knew this all too well. How others would never accept that. The struggle that you will have to come to terms with it and how you may have to pretend to be something you are not for a while. What would he say to his parents? How important it must have been for him to be raised right in the faith. Their whole self-worth may have been riding on that fact. If their little boy was lost, what then?
Did they fail? Surely this young man would consider that if he went down the road that I proposed. Yet, if his God was exclusive, what did that say about Him? Surely God was not so cruel to plop a bunch of people on the earth in a sea of religions to hope that they could grasp the right one in order to be saved.
What if it’s all a bunch of bologna?
What if. What if the young man gave up and became an atheist? What then? Would I be marked? Surely it would be better if a millstone was placed around my neck and I was thrown in the sea.
The wheels of that young man’s mind were turning, and I knew by the look of abject horror in his eyes that he was about to enter into a brave new world—unless Elder Wilson could get to him soon enough to get him back on track. "Thank you both for coming. It’s been a pleasure,” I said.
The young men left. I wondered if they would come back.
I closed the door and made my way to the couch. On the floor was Elder Wilson’s Book of Mormon. Maybe I would not see the last of them.
Analysis
We are not so different than the Mormons, or the Jehovah's Witnesses. We have our rules, regulations, extreme beliefs, power players, moneymakers, abusers, users, pushers, scapegoats, and prophets. The prophets are such a big one. We need to be guided because we are too stupid to go it alone. Our books are written to help us understand how the Bible is supposed to be read. We all have our offshoots and they come with their own rules. Oh, and we all are super distrustful of each other. We don’t get along very well, which is funny, because we are all so similar. We all claim to be centered around God and Jesus at least in some form--which is well and good, but the problem is that we all claim to have the truth, which is impossible. Only one of these three vastly different faiths can be "the truth", right? Either one is right or none are.
Which could it be?
And then there are the missionaries. Peddling and pushing the religion to all who will accept it. It has been asserted that Mormons will get planets for a job well done (this is disputed). Adventists say you get stars in your crown for every person saved. I'm not sure what Jehovah's Witnesses get, but it's probably something good--maybe a Heavenly Mercedes Benz dealership or a hip-hop record deal with the angelic choir. But the funny thing is that all of these ideas come down to works and being right, and not everyone can be right, and there's no real proof that anyone is right. Right? One Bible, a butt ton of auxiliary books, and a lot of folk religion mixed in make for an interesting stew. Yet, the problem centers around the idea of truth and the insecurity that having or not having "the truth" brings with it. If enough people can believe just like you, then you are more likely to be right. Right?
Wrong! A lot of people believed the Titanic wouldn't sink, but the Pope still
downed it (just kidding--it was an iceberg). The amount of people that believe in
something is completely and utterly irrelevant. But the issue still remains, if we are supposed to know the truth in order to be saved, why did God give us blank minds at birth? I can't get around that idea. I can't understand how we would be expected to land in the right faith if we were both knowing nothing. Add to that the fact that children are INCREDIBLY impressionable and will more likely than not adopt the faith that they were raised in. What does this say about God? Is He a trickster?
Religion is merely a belief. Beliefs change. What I believe today is not the same as a year ago. One year ago I was much more close-minded, but I was starting to see things differently. Five years ago I was convinced that we needed to be perfect to be saved. And eight years ago I believed that being a missionary was the only moral choice in these so-called last days. I have seen clearly the result of my beliefs and the fruit of my way of thinking.
The problem with believing you have "the truth" is that it makes you extremely arrogant. It removes a lot of humbleness and the reality that you know very little. The more "truth" you proclaim that you have, the more you are to look down on other ways of being. You sneer at other religions as if they are wrong. It creates this idea within you that you are somehow better than others. I have learned that my religion does not have the truth--we just think we do. The same can be said of the Mormons or the JWs. We really have no idea about most things and that's where faith comes in. But we don’t know for sure that our way of reading the Bible is more correct than another person’s way. When someone says "we have the truth" I literally wince. It's arrogance. And it’s asinine. Asinine arrogance.
***
A month passed and I received a visit from our supervisors. The story had been seen. The church was not happy about it. Many believed that I had now left the church. The belief was that I was making the church look bad (which is a huge sin in the Adventist world). I was told to never write something like this again. While I expected to be fired, and almost welcomed it, I was not. I was told that people were praying for us and that they would pray for me.
Concern was shown because we were now were our own for missionary living expenses. I had dug my own grave. I was now working at a nearby national park lodge as a cook and doing writing in the evenings, in addition to missionary duties. I was exhausted. I felt like an outcast. I felt that nobody understood or cared to understand my journey. Nobody from the Forks church even asked us what was wrong. All I heard was
that the local pastor had been called and Pastor Jay Coon said: “What are they even doing here?” There was no reaching out to us. Rather, Mr. Coon and the Forks church board decided that they would stop paying the Queets church electric bill. That was on us now. We wondered if it was because we were going to fundraise for that, however, it was decided without asking us. Instead of getting funds to work as missionaries, we would be paying to be here. Quite a difference from what we had expected when leaving Ukraine. This was the cost of thinking differently. The cost of asking questions. We had been back in the United States for almost half a year now and I realized that without funding I was literally paying to work in a church I felt distant from. When we came back, we knew that the general conference would not be pledging support. Money had been earmarked for another project. Ours was seen as unneeded. And now I felt the same way. Completely cut off. I thought to myself, “they say shunning doesn’t exist in Adventism, but it sure seems like it.” Communication from Pastor Coon ended. We were outcasts.
Instead of paying for the Queets church electric bill, Pastor Coon had big dreams of turning the Forks church’s surrounding land into a creation garden. Although the Forks church was, in the words of other pastors, “a dying church,” Mr. Coon thought that money that should be spent on his local churches would be better allocated to a big project that would serve as a unique accomplishment. I wonder, what would Mrs. White say about that? A year later, I would finally realize that this was wrong, and that Mr. Coon overstepped his authority by putting the Queets church electric bill on unpaid missionaries.
At the time, I was of the belief that pastors were holy people, raised by God. After all, this is what I had been taught, and what Ellen White wrote about in Pastoral Ministry. Later I would realize that such a belief was incredibly dangerous, and gave pastors incredible power that they could easily abuse. The Adventist desire for all young people to become pastors while also telling pastors that they were handpicked by God to speak on behalf of God’s church is madness. Rogue pastors like Albert , Bill Hughes, and in this instance, Jay Coon, wield incredible authority that few question because they are believed to be lifted up by God Himself into a position that allows them to do things without question.
The truth was, I had said too much online, and I didn’t really know how I felt at the time. I was questioning. Yet, I felt that it needed to be said. I felt that I could not be seen as the “perfect little traditionalist Adventist” any longer. Nobody, save my wife, seemed to understand that the story was about being human and accepting, about love rather than countless extra rules. It was about not really knowing if our version of the truth is the real version of the truth.” Yet, it was read only on the surface. It was enough to upset some who were unwilling or incapable to think critically about their own religion. It wasn’t so different than with Countryside. The offshoot Adventists and the mainstream church’s boundaries were blurring.
It was more insecurity. If one is insecure about their religion, insecure enough to cast others out, do they really have faith? What are they holding on to? When the local pastor asked us, “what are they doing here?” I felt hurt. Yet, I started to wonder the same thing. Are we merely colonizers? What does the church want these native people to look like? If they were to follow Ellen White in all things, they would no longer be native, but instead would become “Adventists.” I could not shake the idea that I was a colonizer in my position here. Once a person is compelled to follow Ellen White’s perfectionist teachings, they must dress a certain way, eat a certain way, live a certain way, and so on. Ellen White’s ultra-legalistic views on literature, music and entertainment would work to wipe out the uniqueness of the tribal people we had been sent to. I realized that this could not be me. As much as AFM says that its mission is to go into the world and share the gospel, it was really working to bring Ellen White’s Adventism to the world. I realized that it was a form of colonizing traditional people. I remember being told, “wouldn’t it be great if the entire reservation was Adventist?” No, it would not be great. It would be colonization.
I saw the homes of the native people, their love for each other, and how they already followed Jesus. Yet, they did not live as Ellen White demanded. Neither did I. And I don’t think I ever could have.
“I saw that God would not acknowledge an untidy, unclean person as a Christian. His frown was upon such. Our souls, bodies, and spirits are to be presented blameless by Jesus to His father, and unless we are clean in person, and pure, we cannot be presented blameless to God. I saw that the houses of the saints should be kept tidy and neat, free from dirt and filth and all uncleanness” (Ellen White, Manuscript Releases Volume 7).
More troubling yet, I started to see that those who were the leaders in the church had positions that allowed them to live a worldly lifestyle while maintaining an appearance of holiness. The big cheeses could jet set to parts of the world that the masses were told would be a waste of money unless they went for missionary purposes. Eating out and rubbing elbows with other power players and seeing sites that were “incidental” to the places they were in was seen as part of the job. Some could even dabble in secular entertainment and music that was off-limits to the lay members and younger missionaries. How else could one know that a certain Disney or Marvel movie was evil unless they did not watch it first? Once watched, it could be deconstructed and pulled apart, so that the rest of the congregation would be well aware of its more Satanic qualities.
I realized that there was a huge issue with guilt that I also carried with me. If you did not spend your money in furtherance of the church or if you did not give everything, someone would open their mouth to put you in your place. Everyone was a critic in a sin-searching church. The guilt I felt in Peru was life-changing for me. I realized that I had come back to the United States from a place I loved and I didn’t come back to feel guilty for living my own life. I started to think that maybe I went into missionary work for the wrong reasons—and I still carry this view with me today. I have come to realize that one can not serve God in the way that the church wants and have their own life. The two are mutually exclusive. You really do have to give everything and be content to know that it will never be enough for many.
It is said that “perfection is the enemy of good” and I have come to realize that there is much truth to that quote. Yet, once I was a missionary, and in the eyes of people in the church, I was expected to be perfect. I couldn't live with that and I didn’t expect that from my own loved ones or child.
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