God’s Final Reinforcement
We have the blessed privilege of enriching this special week of prayer with a few historical reflections, especially now, as many eagerly celebrate 100 years of our existence as a movement, while others express deep concerns about our spiritual dynamics.
To truly gauge the pulse of our spiritual condition—both as individuals and as a collective body of believers—we must first acknowledge the Source of all good changes, the essence of all noble actions, the one who revealed Himself as “the way, the truth, and the life.” Without Him as the perfect model, we cannot discern the reality of our spiritual condition.
Our assessment will vary depending on the lens through which we see ourselves. We can either look through the eyes of our Savior, seeking His truth, or through the flawed lens of our own selfish human nature, which is often so blind to its own shortcomings that could go so far as to rely on reputation labeled as character. Yet reputation is an impression left on people’s minds regarding our identity; Character is God’s reality about what and who we truly are.
This is why truth matters most. As most of us know, TRUTH passes through three stages:
First, it is fiercely opposed; then, it is ridiculed; and finally, it is universally accepted. This ongoing “debate” presents several options—whether either to celebrate 100 years of success or rather to reflect on 100 years of “achievements” mingled with disappointments. This leads us to the next point of our analysis:
From 1914–1945, a good number of Advent believers held a deep conviction that the worlds wars then raging would mark the end of civilization and set the stage for the imminent return of our Lord Jesus Christ. In the autumn of 1913 and the early months of 1914, many further believed that the chaotic, violent battlefields of the world were not places where sincere and honest souls could prepare for eternity. Actually, this common-sense conviction was shared not only among church members who awaited Christ’s return but even among many atheists, agnostics, and people of various religious practices.
Was there not enough blood spilled by the martyrs to satisfy the skeptics that deny the legitimacy of this movement?
In Engaging the Powers, p. 217, biblical scholar Walter Wink observes that “the church that had stood up nonviolently to the brutal repression of the Roman Empire found itself strangely victorious. . . . The price the church paid, however, was embracing violence as a means of preserving empire. But the removal of nonviolence from the gospel blasted the keystone from the arch, and Christianity collapsed into a religion of personal salvation and an afterlife jealously guarded by a wrathful and terrifying God–the whole system carefully managed by an elite corps of priests with direct backing from secular rulers now regarded as the elect agents of God’s working in history.”1
Carl von Clausewitz, author of Vom Kriege—a book on war strategy—might be considered one of the most qualified military geniuses to frame the concept of war as an act of force to compel the enemy to do our will, and further, that war unveils itself in grotesque trinity—composed of primordial violence, hatred, and enmity, which are to be regarded as a blind natural force.
Yet in the face of this reality, progressivist theologians scramble to try to reconcile the character of Jesus Christ with the violence of war.
Under the pressure of losing control, leaders with the Caiaphas mentality fretfully declare: “What do we? for this man doeth many miracles. If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him: and the Romans shall come and take away both our place and nation” (John 11:47, 48).
Jesus never engaged in war, never physically or emotionally abused any person or group. In the face of the war culture so fashionable at His time, He defined the conduct of a person in such a time of crisis: “Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matthew 5:43).
So, the Advent pioneers and later the Reformers who followed the example of Christ realized that to have that kind of character and love for one’s enemies, costs liberty, imprisonment, torture, and even death. Adventists who really loved Jesus knew the price they had to pay for expressing their faith aloud.
In summer, everyone enjoys applause. But in winter—in the time of crisis—even merely thinking your faith aloud can cause you to lose the general approval of society. It is then when our faith will be brought to the breaking point, as old-time friends turn into bitter enemies.
In the Report of the Third Annual Session of the General Conference of Seventh-day Adventists, The Review and Herald, May 23, 1865, the general view was the following: “We are compelled to decline all participation in acts of war and bloodshed.” Yet during the first world war in 1914–1918, most Seventh Day Adventists—98% according to some estimates—were compelled to join the ranks of combat, merging into the global killing machine, knowing clearly that such behavior was against their beliefs.
A small minority, only about 2%, chose a different path. They preferred to become outcasts, labeled as anathema by society, rather than forsake Christ and violate the commandments of God. Imbued with a steadfast portion of the Spirit of Christ, they stood the test of time, their eyes fixed on the beauty of that other country—the eternal one. They clearly recognized that the philosophy of war could never align with the command to “love your enemies.” The inevitable clash between the Law of God and the law of Caesar led to fiery persecution, a harsh reality that tested the resolve of the faithful.
Time and space have often conspired to draw young people into battle who neither knew nor hated one another, forcing them to kill for causes set by a few old men—men who did indeed know each other and harbored deep animosities but would never dare to take up the arms themselves.
It is not difficult to see that this ideology stands in total opposition to the character of God. It embodies the very origin of sin. The act of forcing or compelling intelligent beings to say or do something against their own conscience mirrors the beginning of the great war in Heaven—a rebellion rooted in coercion and defiance against divine freedom.
In summer, all the trees are green—but when winter arrives, only the evergreens preserve their color. Likewise, it is during times of spiritual and social crisis that our true colors are revealed. It is only when the flame touches our feet that we discover who we truly are. Those who falter under the weight of pressure might be called “Fair-weather Christians.”
Until such a trying moment strikes, it is easy for us to advocate for the truth when the world does not resist it—but when persecution rears its ugly head, how few are willing to pay the price for their profession of faith! Many were eager to follow Jesus when He was distributing free bread on the hillsides of Jerusalem, yet how few of those who carried home the twelve baskets of surplus bounty were willing to risk their reputation to stand beside the humble Son of Man, crucified between Heaven and Earth?
The disciples were deeply disappointed that Jesus did not reveal Himself as the God of the Universe by a mighty display of power and authority from Heaven. They would have rejoiced to see Him as the triumphant king of Israel, but not as one labeled a criminal, guilty of “treason against the Roman government.”2
It’s one thing to read the book of Job without ever facing his trials, and quite another to read it with an empty stomach, after days of fasting and prayer, during heavy affliction. It is one thing to sing for Christ, and another to die for Christ. It is one thing to swim in a pool, and quite another to swim in the ocean, fighting against the currents.
Hard times create strong people; strong people bring good times. Good times, however, make weak people, and weak people bring hard times. So here we stand, after 100 years of existence, confronting an identity crisis, facing new challenges, and watching as new ideological currents “wave their shame” at the gates of the church.
The generation of Reformers born in hard times passed the baton to the next generation—one born in good times, built by strong people. Now, however, it seems that the world is being led by weak people, and as a result, hard times are coming upon us once more.
The new generations of Reformers face temptations and provocations far more subtle than those ever before experienced. The past generation rests in peace, buried in forgotten cemeteries, while their children and grandchildren remember little of their forefathers’ struggles.
For more than 2,000 years, Rome and the world, through their “Caesar,” have challenged faithful Christians to compromise their faith in Jesus and break the commandments of God. Since the time of Christ, the dominant law has been the Roman law. Under the harsh decree, “Non licet es vos!”—“You are not allowed to exist!”—early Christians sacrificed their names, reputations, comforts, and ultimately their lives for their beloved Christ. Today, the “Modern Caesar” makes a similar demand: unconditional submission, or else you are deemed unfit to exist. It was under this pressure that the Reformation among Seventh Day Adventists was born.
It is true that God’s gift of life comes as a package with a personal “cross.” God gives the cross, but men hammer the nails. Because of this, we have two versions of history—one written by the persecutors with the ink of cruelty, and another by the martyrs, written in their own blood.
Our forefathers, the pioneers of the Reform, penned their history with their own blood because they valued truth over the fleeting glory of this world. In communist countries like Romania, our people were stripped of fundamental education, freedom, and human rights. In those dark times, many authorities would boast, “Just wait a few more years, and you will vanish.” But God has always cared for His people, and in the end, it was the oppressors who faded away, silenced by their own arrogance.
To shine, we do not need to storm or criticize others with our words and actions. Let the character of Christ shine in us, and the debate over “who is holier than whom” will cease. Let the atmosphere of heaven travel with us wherever we go, so that people will not only notice our presence as a movement but will also appreciate the distinction between good and evil. They will feel the impact of our presence in society. That is how we will make a difference.
It’s up to us: will we deny the reality, or will we accept the healing? We must remember that success is not measured by the height of the mountain we manage to climb, but by the number of people we bring with us to the top.
Judging by mere numbers, church growth might appear to have been a failure. But if we judge according to quality, not quantity, we will have an entirely different perspective on the work of the church. In Zephaniah 3:12, the Lord gives a promise to the remnant of the last generation: “I will also leave in the midst of thee [in the middle of the world] an afflicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of the Lord.” This statement reveals that at the end of the world, God’s people will not be a vast, triumphant multitude shouting in victory, but rather an afflicted and humble group who trust solely in His name.
As we can see, there is no grandeur or extravagant display of power at the second coming of Christ. Instead, there is a faithful remnant—afflicted, unnoticed by society, and unimpressive by worldly standards of wealth or numbers. Yet, it is they who carry the light of His truth.
Only when the glory of the Lord rises upon us can we display the mature perfection of character that leads us to abhor self and renounce the long-standing self-gratification nourished by our inner sinful nature. ”When the character of Christ shall be perfectly reproduced in His people, then He will come to claim them as His own.”3
As we reflect on our past, we can affirm that Christ has been ever-present in the trials and suffering of His people. In every corner of the world where our brethren have faced cruel opposition, Jesus was there, witnessing their faithfulness and shining His glory upon them. In every courtroom, in every darkened cell of distant prisons, Jesus stood by His bride. Totalitarian regimes have inflicted deep suffering, imprisoning and silencing church members, stripping them of their liberty and freedom of expression. The Reform Movement has bled across generations for the sake of truth. By upholding the Law of God above human decrees, the remnant has found itself at the center of adversity, attracting the resentment of those who wield power in this world.
It seems that any achievements we may try to consider have not yet satisfied Heaven to the degree that would move the arm of Jesus to close His work of intercession in the sanctuary and recognize His character fully reflected in us. We are still here on Earth, sharing the same struggles, the same hospitals, the same diseases, and even the same cemeteries as the rest of the world. There is something crucial missing from this puzzle, reminiscent of the question asked by the rich young ruler in Matthew 19:20, “What lack we yet?”
We tend to focus too much on counting our membership; we have the tendency to sanctify numbers—but the Lord reminds us that victory can be secured by just a few.
Consider the statistical report from the valley of Dura: three faithful men stood against the vast Babylonian empire. In the lion’s den, it was one—Daniel—against the combined might of Medo-Persia. During the time of Queen Esther, it was Mordecai and Esther against countless persecutors of the Jews.
And at Calvary, we find Simon of Cyrene, the centurion, and the thief on the cross facing a relentless, enraged mob. Yet, in each of these moments, those lone figures became the true majority.
I have learned that numbers only show the existence of a ship or an ark on the ocean. Numbers alone do not carry much weight without the presence of God, but when those numbers are joined by our Saviour, they gain tremendous significance. One man plus God equals a majority.
The inspired word of God says: “God has children, many of them, in the Protestant churches, and a large number in the Catholic churches, who are more true to obey the light and to do [to] the very best of their knowledge than a large number among Sabbathkeeping Adventists who do not walk in the light.”4
Elijah was a very good secretary. He counted one member growth in the statistical report. But that was the internal statistical report. History teaches us to keep track of an external statistical report as well. God was the secretary of the external statistical report. Elijah was the secretary of the internal statistical report. Internally the church had one member; externally the church had 7,000 members.
The internal secretary, Elijah, was really surprised at the report of the heavenly secretary that reported those 7,000. The problem Elijah had was not only the number issue, but perhaps more importantly why God did not reveal this mystery to him as a prophet. Thus, we see that even the prophets cannot understand the will of God and the other side of the coin unless God reveals it to them.
Today, we tend to make the same mistake as the prophet Elijah did. I sincerely believe that the Reform Movement is representing the prophet Elijah. And for this reason, I think we have the tendency to think we are the only people left in this world and, as Elijah thought, the only ones who are faithful to the Lord.
But we have other brothers and sisters not yet counted and great will be the surprise when we will see them coming from all corners of the world joining the truth embraced by the Reform Movement.
By the time God’s work is finished under the power of the Holy Spirit, some of us will already be gone. The message will divide and redirect people according to what they have in their heart. Some with liberal behavior will embrace the world at full speed; others framed by a cold, orthodox legalism will go to fanaticism. Only those centered in Christ will preserve a spiritual balance and follow the right pattern of Christ’s perfect balance of justice and mercy.
There is a class that has had a knowledge of the truth but were not sanctified by it. In modern language, we call this “liberalism”, i.e., freedom to indulge in sin.
“As the storm approaches, a large class who have professed faith in the third angel’s message, but have not been sanctified through obedience to the truth, abandon their position and join the ranks of the opposition. By uniting with the world and partaking of its spirit, they have come to view matters in the same light, and when the test is brought, they are ready to choose the easy, popular side. Men of talent and pleasing address, who once rejoiced in the truth, employ their powers to deceive and mislead souls. They become the most bitter enemies of their former brethren.”5
Liberalism brings progressivist ideas to view, thus pushing the ark to the left. On the other hand, conservative minds, known as legalists, push the ark to the right. Either way is shipwreck. “If Satan cannot keep souls bound in the ice of indifference, he will try to push them into the fire of fanaticism.”6
The remnant of God’s people will not listen to the twisted liberal views neither to the Christless, cold interpretation of His will as presented by the legalists. Instead, through God’s grace, we are to “turn not to the right hand nor to the left: remove thy foot from evil” (Proverbs 4:27).
God’s remnant people, the saved ones, will be used as God’s vessels, carriers of divine oil (the Holy Spirit), as part of that great work to share the final message with humanity before the end of those few seconds that will conclude human history.
Another recent global crisis taught us one thing as a church. We felt the innocent division of opinions. It was only a gentle wave, yet it triggered such turmoil in some places—just imagine when the next wave will come. Will we still be friends—or will some go back to the same conduct taken in such times of global crisis?
It looks like we are missing adversity; we are missing real persecution. Over the years I have observed that we have the tendency to develop an appetite for delicate subjects in the area of high theological debates, while we lose sight of those precious souls that we consider being without hope. Meanwhile, Jesus looks upon them as the very object of His affection.
We cannot fight against time. The longer we remain here on earth, the less attraction to heaven we may display. The more we stay here, the more we pretend to belong. As the Jewish people pretended their attachment to Father Abraham, so can we demand attachment to the 1914 pioneers of reformation without having their personal experience. A wise proverb says, “the more we claim the less we are.”
Sadly, “the inhabitants of the world have largely given themselves into Satan’s control. He acts as the god of this earth. Human beings, wholly given over to evil, cooperate with him in his conspiracies, helping him to carry out his plans against the government of God.”7
The purpose of the great rebel has always been to vindicate himself and try to prove that the divine government was responsible for his rebellion, leading huge crowds to receive his version of the great controversy that has lasted so long. For thousands of years, this conspirator has promoted lies in the place of truth. We have all read The Great Controversy, yet without prayer for the eyesalve of the Holy Spirit, “the other version” will lead the reader exactly to an opposite conclusion.
Looking back on the 100 years of achievements and failures, we can notice that we have had ups and downs as a people. If there have been achievements, these belong to God. Sincerely, we do have a lot to learn from both successes and disappointments alike.
If you look to the disciples and their past, most of them would not qualify to be our colleagues today. Matthew was publican, Peter an infatuated ignoramous, John a stormy character, Thomas a skeptic, Judas a cunningly refined intellectual—and the list can continue.
When we look in the Old Testament, Moses would not qualify to be one of our colleagues because he murdered an Egyptian without God’s permission.
What can we say about his brother Aaron being entrusted with the ministerial affairs of the church—especially after leading people into apostasy by melting gold and inviting people to worship the idolatrous golden calf?
What can we say about Elijah, who would not qualify to be our colleague due to the betrayal of the cause of God, running away from Jezebel?
In the New Testament, we have a repetition of the same great heroes:
John the Baptist, who after preaching the kingdom of God says in prison “Art thou he that should come? or look we for another?” (Luke 7:19).
Peter, who after his extravagant pretentions, denies Christ in the most awful manner, or maybe Saul of Tarshish persecuting the church. All these would not qualify to be our colleagues.
So, dear brethren, let us follow the example of Jesus, preparing ourselves along with a team of youth that will receive the double portion of the Holy Spirit in order to end the misery and the suffering of a world without a sense of direction.
Looking back to the past or to the future, we start to see clearly why we are still here: A hundred years of lessons learned by some, overlooked by others—and yet we are here.
Whether this is a moment to celebrate or to take time to heal our wounds, it is up to the reader.
Let us all plead with the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of our children and youth, for the salvation of our ministers and members, and for the necessary unity in Christ that will bring about the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The hour is late—and unless we truly become what we profess to be, we will never live up to our claims. The more we boast, the less we are; the less we claim, the more we reflect Him. May the Lord our God help us to accept the reality of the True Witness and spare us from the illusion of our self-righteousness.
“A Christian once said that when he reached heaven he expected to meet with three causes of wonder. He would wonder to find some that he did not expect to see there. He would wonder not to see some that he expected to meet, and, lastly, he would wonder most to find so unworthy a sinner as himself in the Paradise of God.”8
Let us never forget that God calls us to a faith that goes beyond appearances and numbers—a faith of quality and depth that truly reflects the character of Christ. Our mission is not to be seen as a powerful multitude in the eyes of the world, but as those who, even in simplicity and humility, shine with the light of the Saviour.
Just as the generations before us faced immense challenges, we too, are called to remain faithful in times of adversity, to rely on the strength that only God can provide.
And as we wait for our Lord’s return, let our prayer be constant: “Lord, help us to reflect Thy character in every word, in every action, so that the world may see in us a hope that will not vanish.”
It is late in the night, and the world needs the light that Christ has given us. May we be that light. May we make the difference!