I have been a Spectrum Blog columnist for 2 years. Through a random occurrence, I am charged with writing the post that will be featured on Thanksgiving. For the past two years, I have tried to stay away from anything contentious on this holiday. However, to put forward that front in the face of so much unrest in our society would be intellectually and emotionally dishonest.
We got everything ready. Cleaned up the church. Had all our leaders and presenters lined up. The big expense was sending out handbills to the community. Pretty, full-color brochures that announced a series of Bible lessons filled with hope and reassurance. We backed up our efforts with prayer.
The big night came. But no visitors showed up. Not one.
The recent Annual Council's presidential sermon has generated controversy and some worries in the Italian Adventist community. For immigrant Adventists now living and working in Italy the sermon's content and rhythm is perfect. It represents both what the church believes and the world needs to hear. But for many native, truly converted and engaged Italian Adventists that sermon instead represents the resurgence of a decadent, sectarian Adventism we naively thought was a relic of the past.
I was the first voter at the polls in my precinct yesterday. My wife insisted that we get up early and brave the seasonal chilly air to avoid long lines and makeshift parking places in the unlikely event that the crowds showed up at our polling station. When we pulled up to the community center and saw that we would have won gold if this were a race, my son decided that he had enough time to get some breakfast from a local fast food restaurant. Not wishing to come back to a transformed scenario, I decided to stay behind and hold our place.
Not long ago, a friend gave me a book written by veteran Adventist critic Vance Ferrell. I do not know Mr. Ferrell, but I admire both his persistence and his output—76 book listings on Amazon.com. Our Evangelical Earthquake takes on a story with which at least some readers of Spectrum will be familiar: the origin of the book Questions on Doctrine.
This title apparently sounds like a useless and weird question. In fact nobody would answer it affirmatively. That would be too naive and pretentious. But also the negative answers should awaken suspicion and concern. Because what would be the real value of a theological apparatus that so easily gives up the scientific implications of its own theological declarations and beliefs?
The parables of Jesus are interesting and complex. There was a time when people believed that parables were complete allegories, and every detail of the parable had a corresponding truth in the real world. For example, I always get a nerdy kick out of reading Augustine’s analysis of The Good Samaritan.Throughout the ages theologians have hypothesized about the best way to interpret parables. For a while we thought that parables had to have one central idea that was the main theme of the parable.
This happened to a dear friend of mine. He’s been gone for many years, so I think it’s safe to tell the story.
He had, for almost as long as he could remember, suffered spells of intense depression. He wasn’t an educated man. I’m not sure he even knew what to call his bad feelings. In the community where he lived, among the people he knew, there were two states of mental functioning: normal or crazy. For the latter you went to the state mental hospital. He analyzed his feelings in the only way he knew: it was a spiritual problem.
President Wilson's opening and closing addresses to the ten-day August 2014 “Bible and Science Conference” in St. George, Utah, were the most revelatory and surprising presentations in otherwise rather flat, predictable, repetitive and at times monotonous meetings on Creation. Our president always manages to exceed himself in theological superficiality and recklessness. The opening address was bold and full of strong, personal convictions and at times even theologically insolent and arrogant.