Look Away

I don't believe in the Seventh-day Adventist organizational system anymore; I have no respect for it, I told my mother and brother, then later my sister, on our weekly call. It's too cumbersome, too weighty; it is nothing like the primitive church in the beginning when everyone cared for each other's needs and the gospel was the main priority. 

My mom and brother were silent. My sister, on the other hand, agreed with me. It was a conversation we'd had many times before. She understood. She knew what I meant. 

We grew up in the SDA church. We grew up going to Sabbath School, singing Who made the beautiful rainbow? as we waved wooden dowels with multicolored strips of felt glued to one end, swaying back and forth with our little Burkinabe friends. One year we dressed up in Pathfinder outfits—bright blue shirts, dark blue skirts for the girls and shorts for the boys, with the requisite scarf closed with the Pathfinder ring—and posed with our class for a group photo. My sister and I stood out from the rest with our white faces. I still remember the song, Un tison de la flame. . .

Potlucks, Revelation seminars, Communion services, camp meeting, and endless sermons where we tried to sink down and hide in our seats when my dad used us as sermon illustrations. From England to Burkina Faso to Egypt to Lebanon, the country might have changed but the church stayed the same. As predictable as the Johnson's baby perfume my mom patted on my baby brother's waistcoat as she dressed him in his midnight blue corduroy pants, matching waistcoat, white shirt, and mini bow tie to go to church. 

As a teenager, I became heavily involved in Sabbath School programming, Friday night vespers, and preparing skits for Sabbath sundown worship. Being a Seventh-day Adventist was more than being part of the Christian community for me; it was my identity. 

Then I grew up. And after 40+ years of idealizing the remnant church, the one true church, I realized that there were flaws in this church. In particular, the tendency for church officials to covether up any type of misconduct, appeal to the "forgive and forget" motto, and fail to deal with things through the court system. 

But I'm not going to be quiet anymore. I have a place to speak up, document, and, even if only for myself, denounce all the wrongs that have happened under the guise of Christianity. Because if I don't, I will walk away from organized religion and I cannot do that just yet.