FH7DA (I like calling it that. It makes me feel like I’m verifying my identity when I’ve opened my email on a new computer.), is probably the most diverse church we’ve attended so far. There were so many different cultures represented in the room that it was absolutely delightful to just look around. I know that certain pastors will inevitably attract certain similar personalities, but it’s nice to see real diversity on occasion. A smattering of the body of Christ. The (unspecified Hispanic?) couple in front of us (who may or may not have been the shortest two people I’ve ever seen—not that that’s typical of Samoans, they were just short people) had a tiny little baby, intent on making googly eyes at Becka, that I’m fairly certain made it nearly impossible for her to concentrate on the sermon for the entirety of service. So awesome.
A few logistics of note…
- They had a deaf interpreter. I’m always a fan of this. The signs the interpreters make for words like “hallelujah” always strike me as exactly the type of movement I would use to praise God, if I couldn’t speak words. It’s beautiful.
- They had an extended meet and greet. I like this. I think it’s fun to have several minutes in which you’re allowed to say hi to people you’ve never met and be nice to everybody and strike up conversations that would, at any other time besides this one, seem completely awkward. (I have no tangible proof that Becka disagrees with me on this, but if I were a betting woman…)
- Very contemporary worship. But not cool contemporary. Stuff that you would hear on the Z88.3. (Sorry Z enthusiasts. Please note that this a preference observation, and I think that your music is pleasing to Jesus.) I wasn’t a huge fan of the music, but the musicians themselves were really talented. There was this Asian keyboard/piano guy who should have been in a boy band of some kind. There was a bassist who I would have gone to watch at House of Blues.
- There was no song during the offering. I love it when churches recognize that giving is an act of worship to God, an act of celebration and faith. I suppose you don’t need music for that, but I think I prefer it. There was, however, a performance song after the offering by an African American woman, who I just wanted to cheer for. I’m not a huge fan of performance worship, but man, could that lady carry a tune. I asked Becka if she would be embarrassed if I went “wooo!” She nodded yes. I went “wooo!” at the end.
- The message was part of a series. I like that. I’m a fan of going through books of the bible, or at least going through scripture topically, and pushing the same points home (or building on them) over time. I think it helps my spiritual ADHD.
I got the impression when I was a kid that there was something not quite right about the Seventh Day Adventists; on the other hand, when I was a kid I also thought Presbyterians, Methodists, and Southern Baptists were heretics, so I wasn’t sure that my childhood impression would be correct. I just wasn’t sure what to expect from this visit. All I really knew about Adventists was that they’re vegetarians and go to church on Saturday.
What I got was a service indistinguishable from any evangelical Christian church: they even promoted a new evangelism book by Mark Mittleburg and Lee Stroebel. I was shocked. There was no real weirdness. So I had to look them up later on Wikipedia.
Turns out they do have some slightly odd/heretical views. The sect grew out of a group of William Miller’s followers. Miller predicted (based on a passage in Daniel) that Christ would come back on October 22, 1844. When that didn’t happen, some of his followers decided that Miller’s calculations were correct, but his interpretation of Daniel wasn’t. They thought that what Christ really did on that day was to enter the “Most Holy Place” of the heavenly sanctuary (the reality of which the Hebrew Tabernacle was representative) and begin “investigative judgment,” where all Christians are judged for all the universe to see. And which seems to be a lengthy process, since its apparently still going on.
I don’t want to belong to the Adventist church, myself, but there were some really commendable things about this particular one. First, they share. We’d actually already been to this church building, because the Adventists let Grace Fellowship meet there on Sundays. Second, their time in the service to greet people was fantastic. It lasted around five minutes and people got up, walked around, and talked to each other. (Not me, necessarily, but people). Third, there was a whole lot more racial diversity among the people than you usually see. Kind of a visual reminder that we’re all one church (Probably. I think at least some of them are Christians; they believe in Jesus. On the other hand, some adventists believe in the fallen nature of Jesus and incomplete atonement, neither of which are compatible with orthodox Christianity.) Fourth, the Pastor was just flat-out friendly, or at the very least had the ability to shift focus on Saturday mornings. This pastor came over, sat down and started talking to us. I didn’t even know he was the pastor until the very end of the conversation. Usually I’m tipped off by the gravity pastors have, knowing they’re the LEADER of the congregation or the fact that they can only focus a tiny fraction of their attention on anything besides their awareness that they have to get up a preach a sermon in a couple minutes. Way to go, not taking yourself too seriously, pastor! I respect that. And to be honest, knowing I had to preach a sermon would stress me out too. So I understand, you other pastors, it was just a nice change and the way I’d like to be myself.
And that's it for peculiar Adventist theology, brought to you by Wikipedia.
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