Creedalism and the Journey to Canaan

While reading through Genesis during my personal time of worship, I noticed something I had never noticed before. I knew that in Genesis 12 God had instructed Abram to leave his country, his father’s house, and go to a land—Canaan—that He would show him. And I knew that Abram obeyed God’s invitation and made the long journey from Haran to Canaan. But what I had never noticed before is what the text says about Abram’s father, Terah, prior to this.

Notice: “And Terah took his son Abram and his grandson Lot, the son of Haran, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, his son Abram’s wife, and they went out with them from Ur of the Chaldeans to go to the land of Canaan; and they came to Haran and dwelt there. So the days of Terah were two hundred and five years, and Terah died in Haran” (Gen. 11:31, 32).

So when Abram went to Canaan, he was actually finishing the journey that his father began. But Terah, for whatever reason, as he set out for Canaan, decided to stop in Haran, and “dwelt” there until he died. The word for “dwelt” in Hebrew is yashav, and it also means to “sit” or to “settle” or to “remain.” So though Terah intended to go to Canaan, his mission was derailed and—for whatever reason—he never made it. He determined that Haran was a better place to settle.

The applications of such a thought are numerous, but I can’t help thinking of an academic conference I attended and participated in just a few days before reading this passage from Genesis. Held this past October at Pacific Union College, it was organized by the North American Division and commemorated the 1700-year anniversary of the First Council of Nicaea (which took place in 325), when the initial rendition of the Nicene Creed—which set the foundation for what is generally considered “Christian orthodoxy” ever since—was drafted. We were thus there to discuss how Adventism has historically related to the idea of creeds and creedalism, which is precisely what my doctoral dissertation focuses on.

To put it briefly, I believe our history on this is a little more complicated and nuanced than many probably recognize, but Adventism has—at least in theory—been opposed to creedal rigidity since our founding. Even the “preamble” to our Fundamental Beliefs claims that we “accept the Bible as [our] only creed” and that we expect God to continuously reveal further light to us. We thus don’t want to yashav in Haran.

As I said, there is, of course, nuance and tension here—since I’m not sure this means, nor do we necessarily want it to mean, that we have to “reinvent the theological wheel” every few years. There are doctrinal insights worth holding on to—theological “goods” that we want to keep with us as we move from Haran toward the land of Canaan.

So long as we are on this side of ‘Canaan,’ so long as we have not reached the heavenly Promised Land, the theological journey continues.

But we don’t want to stay in Haran. And, just as beautifully, moving beyond Haran to Canaan is an act of honoring our Adventist pioneers (our own “Terahs”) whose intentions were to keep moving toward the Promised Land, even if they never got there—even if some of them were too scared to move beyond Haran.

The Dangers of Settling in Haran

Ellen White was a prophetic voice on this journey to Canaan, of course, and she constantly warned of the dangers of settling in Haran. Sometimes she had to be very direct, and sometimes her prophetic clarity cost her favor with those in leadership. But she kept sounding the alarm nonetheless.

Thus, for example, in one of her most direct reflections on this subject, she wrote in 1892 that “there is no excuse for any one in taking the position that there is no more truth to be revealed, and that all our expositions of Scripture are without an error.” Indeed, she continued, “the fact that certain doctrines have been held as truth for many years by our people is not a proof that our ideas are infallible. Age will not make error into truth, and truth can afford to be fair. No true doctrine will lose anything by close investigation.”[1]

This was evidently a subject she was passionate about at the time, since she dwelt on it often. In fact, a few months before, she shared similar reflections, noting that “long-cherished opinions must not be regarded as infallible. It was the unwillingness of the Jews to give up their long-established traditions that proved their ruin.” She further noted that “those who sincerely desire truth will not be reluctant to lay open their positions for investigation and criticism, and will not be annoyed if their opinions and ideas are crossed.” She then adds this zinger: “We have many lessons to learn, and many, many to unlearn. God and heaven alone are infallible. Those who think that they will never have to give up a cherished view, never have occasion to change an opinion, will be disappointed. As long as we hold to our own ideas and opinions with determined persistency, we cannot have the unity for which Christ prayed.”[2]

Perhaps most poignantly—and maybe even most scandalously—she repeatedly noted that “truth is progressive,” which is to say, it continues to unfold before us.[3] There is ever more to explore, discover, and understand. We can never thus be fully “settled” into any theological system, recognizing that there is ever more to learn.

This is a big discussion, of course, and we could have many conversations about what this might look like and which of our “expositions of Scripture” may need to be challenged and revisited. But one thing is sure in my mind: so long as we are on this side of “Canaan,” so long as we have not reached the heavenly Promised Land, the theological journey continues, with many “lessons to learn” and seemingly twice as many lessons to “unlearn.”

Again, this doesn’t mean we leave everything behind. It doesn’t mean we abandon those doctrinal convictions that served us well in the past, recognizing that some of them may continue to serve us well in the future.

But it does mean that there are more insights into God’s heart of love ahead of us, and I know I want to continue exploring and pursuing them instead of staying in Haran.

[1] Ellen G. White, in Review and Herald, Dec. 20, 1892.

[2] Ellen G. White, in Review and Herald, July 26. 1892.

[3] See, for example, Ellen G. White, The Great Controversy (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1911),p. 297.