Beyond Charts and Timelines

As Seventh-day Adventists, we’ve historically emphasized the prophetic portions of Scripture. We’ve talked a lot about Sunday laws and papal visits and ecumenism. We’ve promoted our timelines and eschatological charts and prophetic signs.

This is all well and good and necessary, serving as context for the state of our world.

But in our focus on prophecy I wonder if we’ve lost touch with our prophetic voice.

At their core the books of Daniel and Revelation are critiques of corrupt and abusive religious systems—and a warning about the ways in which those in power act in oppressive, authoritarian, and unjust ways. When Revelation, for example, thus declares that “Babylon is fallen,” it especially has in mind the way in which those with power use it to exploit, coerce, and marginalize those they rule over.

Our early Adventist pioneers recognized this, of course. Their study of the apocalyptic books of Scripture led them into a sober and forthright critique of the imperialism of their day. They sounded the alarm about the ways it was manifesting in the oppression of those who didn’t have proximity to power.

Perhaps most famously, this led them to be staunch abolitionists, declaring—when it was very much a minority and unpopular view in America—that slavery was, according to “the prophetic word,” the “darkest and most damning sin upon this nation” that needed to be repented of and eradicated.[*] Adventists saw slavery as a fulfillment of prophecy, the sign of oppressive powers that the book of Revelation predicted. And they thus understood that it was their duty to speak with prophetic clarity against the systems that perpetuated it—even if it meant, which it did, that people would close their ears to other aspects of “present truth” that Adventists were jealous to promote.

At the same time, early Adventists, though having a deep appreciation for the principles of republicanism that America uniquely established and championed, also looked at America’s imperial ambitions with great suspicion. Though America had the appearance of Christlikeness—looking like a lamb—Adventists maintained that it was already speaking like a dragon, partly because of its enslavement of 3 million Black people and partly because of its creedal agenda that was always bubbling beneath the surface. And, of course, there was the ever-present concern that many Christians in America aspired to turn the country officially into a “Christian nation,” and enforce its vision for weekly worship on the first day of the week.

A Complicated Relationship

It was for these reasons, among others, that Adventism always had a complicated relationship with the nation in which it was initially spawned, appreciating some of the political principles America claimed to espouse, while always speaking with prophetic clarity about how America wasn’t living up to its own stated values. In that sense Adventism has always been a dissenting voice, historically being uncomfortable with cozying up too closely with powers that are inclined toward oppression.

It seems as though that in the 1880s there was a risk of pointing out the ways Babylon was fallen, but in the 2020s a neglect to critique the ways it is fallen.

It should be noted here that the liberty Adventists promoted wasn’t solely for the purpose of self-interest. They didn’t speak up on behalf of the enslaved based solely on their prophetic timelines, believing that the denial of liberty for some would eventually lead to the denial of liberty for themselves. That was no doubt partly a factor. But they advocated for the enslaved for the sake of the enslaved. They were moved with compassion and recognized that the enslaved bore the image of God and therefore deserved to be treated with dignity, love, and respect.

So let me make it plain: it feels as though we as Adventists today have lost that same prophetic voice. We may speak of prophecy, but I’m not sure how much we speak with prophetic urgency. We may promote our timelines and eschatological charts, but I’m not sure how much we speak up on behalf of the oppressed. We may speak about liberty and freedom on our behalf, but I’m not sure how much we promote it on others’ behalf (and, as such, whenever we do talk of “liberty” today, it’s often done only from self-interest). We may call attention to potential Sunday laws in the future, but it seems as though we remain silent when our government ignores or bends existing laws in the present. We may call people out of “Babylon,” but we may not be up-to-date on what makes Babylon Babylon.

And let me just add here: it seems as though that in the 1880s there was a risk of pointing out the ways Babylon was fallen, but in the 2020s a neglect to critique the ways it is fallen. In other words, we need to proclaim present truth, and not just truth that was present 150 years ago (while not denying the ongoing importance of those truths we proclaimed in the nineteenth century).

The examples I could give are legion—such as the state-sponsored mistreatment of the “strangers” among us, or the invasion of American cities by its own military, or the curbing of free speech by those who claim to be the biggest advocates of free speech, or the nationalistic fervor that’s increasingly coming to characterize many people who take on the name of Christ. The list could go on.

The point is that at one time, Adventists—including those in the highest positions of leadership—would have been pretty vocal about this type of stuff. Is it time to be vocal about it again?

To be sure, let us proclaim the nearness of our Savior, unequivocally declaring that His return is the only full solution to all that ails us. Yet let us also, in light of that return, speak with prophetic clarity and urgency about the ways Babylon is presently fallen, and invite people to align with the loving, just, and compassionate ways of God and His kingdom. 

[*] James White, “The Nation,” Review and Herald 20, no. 11 (Aug. 12, 1862): 84.