Part II :: Deeper into the Beast
“Countryside is not affiliated with the General Seventh-day Adventist conference,”
I was told.
What does that mean? I wondered. Why not?
Perhaps getting conference status was difficult. Maybe Albert had not gone to seminary? Maybe the other church had a monopoly on the area? It could be anything. Without conference affiliation, Albert’s income from the church would rely on tithes and offerings. I had given a crisp $20 bill as the offering plate went around. It wasn’t much, but it did help.
It wasn’t to say that Albert came without plenty of cash. He had recently sold a home in Santa Clarita, Los Angeles County for a tidy sum. His wife and he made their way up to Stevens County in the state of Washington and purchased land and a home for far cheaper. The difference in money paid for the new digs versus the Southern
California property was likely substantial. It was safe to say that Albert had some cash on hand. It was enough to rent a church building and begin work as a minister.
At first, I thought it was a hobby. Maybe he loves the Lord and wants to spread the gospel, I thought. After all, who was I to judge? As I stated previously, I had a lot to learn when it came to Adventism and running a church.
Having returned from missionary work in Ukraine, we were now staying with my in-laws. They had some property located a 45-minute drive from the church. And what a drive it was! After climbing in the back of my in-law’s older jeep SUV, we bounced along a dirt board that was more of a washboard than anything else. Our heads rattled as the car jolted back and forth on that crazy road. Thump thump thump went the vehicle. It was a rough road, and in the summer months, it only got worse.
I had always sworn I would never move to this part of the country, yet here we were, considering living the type of life that Ellen White fervently preached in Ministry of Healing and Adventist Home. As we made our way through the forest, I caught sight of an old refrigerator that was placed at the front of a nearby neighbor’s driveway. In red spray paint, the words spelled “a shot to the head, a thief is dead.” I wondered if the thief was inside the fridge. I don’t think anyone dared to check. Years later, that fridge still stands with its message loud and clear.
We turned down the easement road toward the in-law's property. On the way up we passed another neighbor whose yard was strewn with piles and piles of junk accumulated over decades. Broken down cards and trash lined both sides of the road, with nature vying for supremacy. This is why the land was so cheap out this way. Albert must have got one heck of a bargain.
A couple of minutes later we arrived. This was our home for the time being. It wasn’t Kyiv. It wasn’t Manhattan. It wasn’t Capitol Hill, but it was now where we were staying. Had you asked me, after law school, if I ever would have moved in with my in-laws and stayed in their back bedroom, I would have said, “no, never. Never!” Yet, now I had chosen to live up there and I saw this as the “right thing to do.” To give our daughter a pastoral life and a life with Jesus as the center was the best thing we could hope to give her in this life. So here we were!
We climbed out of the car and gathered our bibles and the leftovers from the potluck. The mountain air was crisp and clean. Above, in that big blue sky, a plane had recently flown overheard. Its contrail was dissipating in the warm atmosphere. Looking around, trees rose from the dusty earth. The part of Spring when the land becomes very dry in this part of the country was now approaching. The warm summer sun was high in the sky, and it was good to be outside.
The in-law's property was similar to the neighbor's. Freddy enjoyed tinkering with old cars, and there were plenty of them around the property. Some were rust buckets and others may have run within the last few years. Old appliances and tires rose from the dust. Old tools, pipes, tv sets, and whatever else you could picture were strewn about. To the average person, these would have just been random pieces of junk. To Freddy, these were priceless antiques. The memory of the things that he lacked in his childhood on the streets of the suburbs south of Seattle.
The home we were in was nothing fancy. Just an old trailer that desperately needed to be updated. It had been built upon over the years, with all sorts of new rooms added to what was once a single-wide mobile home. It wasn’t the fanciest place to live, but having backpacked around the world throughout the years, it wasn’t the worst place
I had stayed. The bedroom we were given worked well for us. The family worked hard to make sure we were taken care of. And there were many good memories in that home. Not all the memories were good, but there was enough love there to make it a special place in our hearts.
To Freddy and Darla, there was no other place in the world like their home. It was a true place of pride for them. They fervently believed that they would see Christ coming in the clouds over the mountain and that they would walk out to meet him on the top of those rolling hills. There were many times that we were told to get out of the city and buy a country place. As the years passed, we were told that, when the end times came, we could come and wait it out at their home. We would be free from the persecution of the last days when the Mark of the Beast was unleashed and Sabbatarians were being hunted down.*
*Note: One of the more interesting views taken by the SDA church is the fact that the Sabbath is the seal of God. I have no desire to dispute this idea, but one core belief in Adventism is that after some troublesome large world event, a National Sunday Law will be passed in which observing the Sabbath will be made illegal. As the final plagues spoken about in Revelation begin to fall, those who obey the Sabbath will be protected.
Those who keep Sunday holy will become furious at this and start to persecute Sabbath keepers. These Sabbath keepers will have to flee to the mountains until the last of the plagues fall. This will be an emotional time of trouble for Adventists as they fight for physical and spiritual survival. At this point, Christ will stop interceding on behalf of mankind, and all of humanity will have to rely on their goodness to be saved, without Christ as an intercessor. Therefore, it is vital that we work as hard as we can today to train ourselves to be perfect for that period of time when Christ stops interceding for us and comes to gather us. One slip-up during this period will result in eternal destruction with the lost who turned their backs on the Sabbath day.
I had never liked the idea of going back to my in-law’s house to wait out the final days. This was mainly due to the fact that Freddy could be an argumentative bear at times, especially on matters of religion. I didn’t know if I could mentally make it through the end times while dealing with that. Surely, once Jesus stepped foot out of the sanctuary and stopped interceding for us, I would likely have some kind of angry thought that would bar me from Heaven. Not good!
Yet, for Albert, getting out of Southern California was seen as a blessing, and he had no qualms about proclaiming how glad he was to be out in the country. The country living message would be preached over the course of our entire time at Countryside, even though pretty much every single member of the church already lived in the country.
The truth was, I had no idea how we would afford to buy land out here. I had no clue about building a home or doing any of the stuff that was looked on highly out in these hills. My talents were not in the realm of construction or mechanics. Coming from a poor family, I knew absolutely nothing about buying property. And I was unemployed at the time. The only work I had at this moment was a small online business and website I had built that were barely covering our living expenses. The idea of buying land was a fantasy and quite unrealistic. I would need some kind of job first. The problem was, we were a little under an hour away from the nearest city. In the winter, the roads out this way were a pain in the butt to navigate, even with a four-wheel drive. We drove a 1968 Volkswagen Bug. Obviously, we had not thought this plan through to the end. Yet, we were relying on the Lord to guide us. Surely, if we were taking the
steps to do his will, He would help us finish the job. After all, Ellen White said something to that effect. “Those who make the moves to live a country life as the Lord directs will find that He will help them.” I’m not sure if Mrs. White said that or if it was another pastor, but I know I had heard it and I was relying on that at this point!
“It’s so good to see Stephen active at church,” my wife said. “He seems so
happy.”
Yes. He did. It was so different than how I had previously seen him. Not that there was anything wrong with him before, but I could tell that he felt good to have some kind of higher purpose in his life. I think that’s something that we all crave. He seemed full of life and energy. Best of all, he seemed to be in better physical shape than ever before. His diet had changed and he was losing weight. His style of dress had improved and he was taking care of himself. I could not deny that some of the things about this new church seemed a bit strange, but the way it had affected Stephen seemed to be very good. I was happy for him.
The lack of children at the Countryside church was a large reason we continued to attend Deer Park’s morning service on the Sabbath. The Deer Park church had quite a few more families and our daughter enjoyed spending time with other children. After the morning kids program, we would make our way to Countryside. Sometimes we would go after the sermon at Deer Park and arrive at Countryside for the potluck and stay for their afternoon studies.
At this point in time, Countryside was working through a study on Daniel and Revelation*. This involved a lot of end times prophecy, which was a cornerstone of the Countryside teaching. We were given a study book and joined the classes. Although I was pretty familiar with the material already, it was fascinating to hear Eric lead this class. When it came to the Bible, I had met few people with such an extensive understanding of the holy book.
*Note: The subject matter of Daniel and Revelation is a cornerstone of Adventist
theology. Ellen White stated that we should study these two books in great detail. Both are prophetic books of the Bible and unlock many end times mysteries. By
understanding these books and unlocking the knowledge from the passages, one can begin to understand future events. Forgive me if this sounds like Gnosticism. When it comes to traditionalist SDA churches, the combined study of D&R is the best of the Bible, eclipsed only by Ellen White’s book “The Great Controversy” (although many would deny this, the air time that GC gets is greater than the Bible).
As time passed, I started to see that Countryside was far different than Deer Park
in many ways. The most prominent was the insistence on going back to the glory days of early Adventism. The idea that almost everything modern was somehow corrupted was an unmistakable theme of this little church. For example, the Authorized King James version of the Bible was the only Bible that was not corrupted. Modern Ellen White books had been corrupted by Jesuits that had infiltrated the White Estate. Even the newer Adventist hymnals were of no use and should be avoided.
Yet, there was also something to be said about the reverent atmosphere. It was appealing and wholesome. Members of the church were extremely kind. It felt like one was a part of a caring family. This place was different than any other place I had been to. People asked questions and took an interest in each other. The sanctuary felt truly holy—a place where the angels would worship invisibly alongside men and women. It reminded me of a place out of a different time—clean, woodsy, and quiet.
Freddy and Darla commented on how the people at this church were far more welcoming than at the Deer Park church. When Darla was sick and missed a row of Sabbaths at the Deer Park church, one member joked to her about how she should sign the guestbook upon her return. She didn’t like that. At Countryside, there was none of that type of jesting. People seemed to understand.
“Look at this,” Stephen would say, showing us a pamphlet he had made.
I took it. It was a list of verses from the Authorized King James that were lacking in other Bible translations.
“These are key verses that are important to understand salvation. The Jesuits have kept them out.”
“Is that right?” I said. I was so glad that my Bible was a King James bible, as I had no desire to argue.
I mean, I could have argued that the King James Bible was not perfect, and had some errors of its own. Compared to other translations, many things were lacking. Yet, I understood that it was not a battle I wanted to get into, and arguing about religion was never appetizing to me.
I couldn’t blame Stephen for arguing this point every chance he got. It was the main focal point of most Countryside sermons. It was dropped in almost every single sermon, with whole sermons being about the dangers of counterfeit bibles such as the New International “Perversion.”
I had learned long ago that when it came to debating things with the in-laws that the first rule was “don’t.” It was best to stay quiet and nod.
“The Jesuits have corrupted every other Bible translation. They are worthless for
study and will lead to being lost.”
I wondered what the point was with the insistence on relying on only the KJV. The language seemed a bit archaic. Yet, it was pointed out that the language was not archaic if you were used to it, and it wasn’t that hard to get used to reading. I thought about my time as a missionary in Ukraine. I used to use the NIV to teach my students, as they did not understand the King’s English. Was this worthless? What about the idea that God could inspire writers of all Bibles? Would God really allow one to be lost because they studied from the wrong Bible? This didn’t seem right or just! Moreover, Ellen White used the RSV in her writings.
Or did she? Maybe this was just one example of how the Ellen White Estate had corrupted Ellen’s pure writings. “By using any other Bible translation, you make the Bible of no effect,” was the message. “Key verses have been removed. Verses that are vital for understanding salvation. Verses that are vital for navigating the end times. The Authorized King James Bible is the ONLY Bible that is from God.”
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