Kinship Kampmeeting was held in Atlanta, GA this year from July 15-19. Their mission is to "Provide a safe spiritual and social community to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender & intersex current and former Seventh-day Adventists around the world."
“If you had known what these words mean, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent.”—Jesus (Matthew 12.7)
Editor's note: Matt Burdette has written for Spectrum many times and, as you will see from his post, I twisted his arm a bit to get him to write again. His insight and wit have been incredibly helpful to me both when he studied at La Sierra and now as he finishes his doctoral work at Aberdeen, one of the most prestigious universities for theologic work.
There’s a bench on a hill behind the house where I grew up. I used to go there every night during the summers and look out on the San Francisco Bay. The lights from the refineries spilled out across the water and stretched openness where occasionally a tanker would slide out to sea. The emptiness begged to be filled with conversation, so my friends and I would go there to talk.
Many Adventists have taken the comments from Pope Francis regarding the need to prioritize humanity over economy, along with recent rulings from the U.S. Supreme Court, as an opportunity to tout the importance of “religious liberty.” We want to make sure that no one is going to bother us for keeping the Sabbath.
The cover story of this week's Adventist Review is titled "What Do You Mean: Seventh-day Adventist?1" The author credited and pictured is Lee Roy Holmes, a "retired pastor and academy principal from the Upper Columbia Conference of Seventh-day Adventists."
I would like to introduce you to the guest editor of the Spectrum blog for the next three weeks while I am on vacation. Sterling Spence works as program manager for Canvasback Missions based in California. He is a recent business management and religious studies graduate of La Sierra University, and will be studying theology at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley next year.
I was nine years old playing with my brother in the balcony of our Adventist church. We were having a great time with a microphone stand, pretending to sing and acting like we were preaching. Then a deacon walked in. A deacon who took his job very seriously. A deacon who was not pleased to see children laughing in church. A deacon whose face looked like he drank vinegar for breakfast.