The Seventh-day Adventist Church officially teaches that salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone. This is clearly stated in Fundamental Belief #10, which affirms that “God pardons the repentant believer and imputes to him the righteousness of Christ.” On paper, our theology closely mirrors the classic Wesleyan-Arminian model, which is that salvation is initiated by God’s grace, received through faith, and results in a life of sanctified obedience. Yet despite this clear doctrinal stance, there remains a persistent disconnect between what we profess and what many members experience.
In practice, a significant portion of Adventists still struggle with assurance of salvation. For example, a survey of Adventist young adults found that nearly three-quarters (73.5%) had no assurance of salvation, even though they remained active in church life (Lee Venden, Adventist Review, 2019). Similarly, author and teacher Clifford Goldstein reported that when he asked students at Adventist academies whether they believed they would be saved if they died that day, “95% believed if they were killed later that day, they’d come up in the wrong resurrection.” Their reasoning? “In every case, their lack of assurance was based on an inability to behave well enough” (Adventist Review, 2019).
These findings raise an important question:
If we teach salvation by grace through faith, why do so many Adventists live with fear, self-doubt, or a performance-based mindset?
To explore this, we need to go back and examine the early years of our church, what kind of world our pioneers lived in, why they were focused on Jesus’ return more than on salvation, and how, over time, the Adventist understanding of soteriology began to heal.
Historical Context:
In the 1800s, the United States was in the middle of a massive religious revival known as the Second Great Awakening. People were gathering by the thousands in tents, on hillsides, and in town squares to hear preachers proclaim that Jesus was coming soon. This was the world that birthed the Millerite movement, led by William Miller, a Baptist farmer who believed, based on careful study of prophecy, that Christ would return around 1843 or 1844. Thousands of people, including future Adventist pioneers, joined this movement with passionate urgency. But when Jesus didn’t return as expected in October 1844, it led to what’s now known as the Great Disappointment. Most people gave up. But a small remnant held on, believing that while the event was misunderstood, the date itself was still prophetically significant. This remnant would eventually become the Seventh-day Adventist Church. But here’s something crucial. These early believers didn’t begin by figuring out how salvation works. Their primary concern was prophetic: “What happened in 1844?” not “How are we saved?” As a result, eschatology became the church’s foundation, while soteriology remained undeveloped and often assumed.
Early Pioneers, where do they come from? How do they influence soteriology?
Many of our early founders came from a variety of religious backgrounds, which meant they didn’t share a single understanding of who God was or how salvation happened.
Joseph Bates and James White came from the Christian Connexion church. This church rejected creeds and the Trinity. They adopted a rationalistic and reductionistic framework of theology. In this framework, doctrine had to be explained logically and conform to the most literal reading of Scripture, leaving little room for mystery or centuries of Christian tradition. This mindset deeply influenced how early Adventists approached salvation.
Joseph Bates and James White were very cautious about popular Christian ideas at the time, especially the teaching that we are saved by faith alone, which came from Lutheran and Wesleyan traditions. They were also not convinced about the traditional idea of the Trinity, which says that God is one being made up of three equal persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Instead, they leaned toward Arianism, which teaches that Jesus was created by God the Father and is not fully equal with Him. They believed Jesus was the “only begotten Son,” meaning God brought Him into existence sometime in eternity past. They took verses like “firstborn of every creature” (Colossians 1:15) very literally, applying them to Jesus’ divine nature, not just His human birth.
Other key early figures in the broader Millerite and Adventist movements were George Storrs and J. M. Stephenson.
Storrs introduced conditional immortality to the Millerite movement, teaching that humans do not possess immortal souls and that the dead remain unconscious until the resurrection. This idea not only influenced Adventist views on death and hell but also reinforced their anti-Trinitarian leanings, since the Trinity was often associated with the belief in an inherently immortal soul. His widely circulated publication, The Bible Examiner, helped shape the thinking of early pioneers, including Ellen White during her Millerite years.
J. M. Stephenson, though he eventually left the movement in 1855, left a lasting imprint on Adventist theology. He openly rejected the Trinity, calling it illogical and unscriptural, and argued that “the Word was made flesh” (John 1:14) meant Christ’s divine nature was transformed into human nature at the incarnation. According to Stephenson, Jesus remained the Son of God but was no longer divine in the same way. His emphasis on Christ’s full humanity and obedience contributed significantly to early Adventist soteriology. For him, salvation was less about receiving Christ’s righteousness and more about following His moral example, especially in keeping the law and the Sabbath.As a result, his teachings tended to overshadow the idea of salvation by grace alone, placing a heavy emphasis on human effort and obedience.
The Adventist pioneers were also reacting to something else. During this period of revivalism, many preachers focused on emotional conversion experience with phrases like “Just believe in Jesus and you are saved”. Some emphasized assurance and instant salvation with little mention of Christian growth or moral reform. At this time, among many Christians, cheap grace or antinomianism became a real issue. For this reason, many of the pioneers felt that justification by faith had gone too far, making it sound like obedience didn’t matter at all. In response, they focused so much on law-keeping. For them, the real test of a Christian was obedience, not just faith. This may explain why Arianism, which emphasizes Jesus as a moral example more than a divine Savior, was attractive to them. But in doing so, they often ended up minimizing the importance of justification by faith.
Because the church refused to adopt a formal creed, it was hard to establish a unified theology of salvation. The assumption was that prophetic truth would unite the church, and that salvation was something you’d work out in practice. That left a vacuum where confusion, diversity of views, and legalism could grow unchecked.
Shift in Focus
By the late 1800s, James and Ellen White were increasingly concerned that the Adventist Church was becoming too focused on law and obedience, losing sight of the gospel’s life-changing power. James White, especially in the final years before his death in 1881, began urging the church to center its message on Jesus Christ, His righteousness, and His grace. He believed the early emphasis on law, while sincere, had unintentionally led many into legalism, draining the church of spiritual vitality. Meanwhile, as Adventism grew and attracted new members from other denominations, particularly Methodists and Baptists, Trinitarian ideas began to quietly take hold. Because the church had no formal creed, these views gradually mixed into the movement without official debate.
A turning point came in 1882, during a camp meeting in Healdsburg, California. While listening to a sermon by Ellen White, Ellet J. Waggoner, a young Adventist doctor and editor, had a profound spiritual experience. He later described it this way:
“Suddenly a light shone about me, and the tent was, for me, far more brilliantly lighted than if the noonday sun had been shining, and I saw Christ hanging on the cross, crucified for me.”
This personal revelation of Christ’s sacrifice deeply moved Waggoner and marked a shift in his theology. He became captivated by the message of righteousness by faith, believing that salvation was not about human effort, but about trusting fully in what Christ had already done. He dove into Scripture, especially the book of Galatians, and came to a controversial conclusion: that Paul’s reference to “the law” in Galatians 3 meant not only the ceremonial laws of Moses, but also the moral law, including the Ten Commandments. This directly challenged the commonly held Adventist view that the moral law was always binding and central to Adventist identity.
In the 1883 General Conference, Ellen White spoke about the danger of focusing too much on works and not enough on Christ’s grace.
Around the same time, Alonzo T. Jones was also embracing similar ideas. He and Waggoner became close collaborators, and together they began presenting this fresh emphasis on justification by faith, a message that would come to a head at the 1888 General Conference session in Minneapolis. Their teachings, though controversial, helped shift Adventist theology closer to its biblical and grace-filled roots.
1888 Minneapolis General Conference Secession:
The stage was set with two opposing parties. On one side stood the California brethren, Dr. E. J. Waggoner and A. T. Jones, both in their early thirties. On the other side were the Battle Creek loyalists: George I. Butler, president of the General Conference, and Uriah Smith, editor of the Review and Herald, both seasoned leaders in their fifties.
At the time of the 1888 Minneapolis General Conference and its surrounding developments, A. T. Jones was notably Trinitarian, emphasizing the full deity of Christ and opposing the prevailing Arian sentiments within Adventism.
E. J. Waggoner, however, held a semi-Arian position: he affirmed Christ was “begotten, not created” and suggested a mysterious eternal origin from the Father, yet hesitated to fully embrace the Trinity.
George I. Butler and Uriah Smith, representing the Battle Creek establishment, were both semi-Arian, though Smith had originally promoted Arian views before evolving. Neither fully embraced the Trinitarian framework, and their theological stance reflected a resistance to the newer emphasis on Christ’s righteousness and objective justification by faith.
Ellen White was more Trinitarian than either Waggoner or Jones, but her soteriology and Christology show a gradual theological unfolding. The mature Ellen White can be declared unequivocally Trinitarian in her convictions regarding the full deity of Christ. However, such clarity did not emerge until after the 1888 Minneapolis General Conference.
Her early Christology (1850–1870) often reflected a more literalistic and visionary style, occasionally portraying Christ as subordinate to the Father. From 1870–1890, her writings began to emphasize Christ’s eternal nature and equality, but it was in the post-1890 period that Trinitarian language and theological precision fully matured.
During the 1888 GC secession, she stated that she was not given light regarding this matter. Despite her doctrinal trajectory, Ellen White’s contributions were shaped primarily by pastoral and spiritual concerns, especially the legalism she observed in the church. She never wrote systematic theology, nor did she publicly challenge the Arian or semi-Arian views of fellow pioneers like her husband, James White, or Uriah Smith. Instead, she increasingly emphasized Christ’s role as a fully divine Intercessor, whose sacrificial death and priestly ministry could secure forgiveness and righteousness for sinners. Her theology leaned instinctively toward Trinitarian soteriology, shaped as much by her Wesleyan roots and revival experience as by formal doctrinal statements.
The 1888 message:
At the 1888 General Conference session in Minneapolis, Waggoner and Jones introduced a message that became a turning point in Adventist theology: righteousness by faith in Christ. Their emphasis challenged the dominant legalistic tone that had long defined much of Adventist preaching. Rather than stressing obedience to the law or denominational distinctives like the Sabbath, they centered their teaching on the sufficiency of Christ’s righteousness for salvation, received by faith, not earned by works.
Waggoner’s sermons were particularly influential. Though he held a semi-Arian view of Christ’s origin, his presentation at Minneapolis focused less on the ontological nature of Christ and more on His functional divinity and salvific power. He portrayed Jesus as both fully divine in capacity and fully human in empathy, able to justify sinners and transform lives. His depiction offered a powerful assurance that Christ’s righteousness was not merely a theological concept but a living reality available to every believer.
Jones, meanwhile, leaned more fully into Trinitarian orthodoxy, affirming the full and eternal deity of Christ. Together, their message resonated with revivalist power, offering weary ministers and skeptical delegates a refreshing vision of grace, freedom from guilt, and victory over sin through union with Christ.
Ellen White vigorously supported their message. Though she refrained from theological precision about the Godhead at the time, she affirmed the righteousness-by-faith emphasis as light from heaven, declaring it “a most precious message” meant to awaken the church from spiritual stupor. The conflict over Galatians and eschatological minutiae was secondary to the experiential call to receive Christ’s righteousness by faith, a call that sparked revivals, reshaped personal ministries, and began to reorient Adventism toward a more Christ-centered gospel.
However, many church leaders, especially Uriah Smith and George I. Butler, opposed it. They feared that stressing grace and faith might weaken Adventist teachings about keeping God’s law, especially the Sabbath.
Because of the strong resistance, Ellen White joined Waggoner and Jones to preach this message across North America for about three years. They visited camp meetings, churches, and ministerial training events, urging revival and a deeper focus on Christ. Ellen White called this effort one of the most important in her ministry. During this time, she wrote and spoke more about justification by faith than ever before.
Around 1891, things changed dramatically. Ellen White was sent to Australia for nearly a decade, a move she later described as not directed by God, but permitted because church leaders were eager for her departure. In a letter to General Conference President O. A. Olsen, she wrote, “The Lord was not in our leaving America… Our separation from Battle Creek was to let men have their own will and way…” This suggests that White’s exile was not purely missional, but a subtle form of marginalization. Shortly after, E. J. Waggoner was sent to England, also without compelling logistical necessity. Historian Woodrow Whidden notes that this likely reflected an effort by church leadership to separate and dilute the influence of the 1888 revival trio. With White and Waggoner overseas, A. T. Jones remained the lone voice in North America championing righteousness by faith. Although the message had gained ground and reshaped Adventist theology, its momentum slowed considerably in their absence. Jones faced growing resistance and isolation, and without the unified front of all three, the revival lost its intensity and scope.
The Lingering Legacy
Despite the powerful breakthrough at the 1888 General Conference and the revival efforts that followed, the message of righteousness by faith faced intense opposition and was never fully embraced across the denomination. The sidelining of Ellen White and E. J. Waggoner, along with the increasing isolation of A. T. Jones, slowed the momentum of this grace-centered reformation. While Adventist theology eventually moved toward a more Trinitarian and Christ-centered framework—especially through Ellen White’s later writings like Steps to Christ and The Desire of Ages—the legacy of early Arian influences and a strong emphasis on law-keeping left a lasting imprint.
Even today, we continue to feel the tension. In some circles of Adventism, Arian or semi-Arian Christology still lingers, and in many congregations, salvation by works, whether subtly or overtly, is still preached or implied. The historic struggle between grace and obedience, faith and law, remains unresolved in the hearts and minds of many Adventist believers. While our official doctrine affirms salvation by grace through faith in Christ alone, the lived reality often reflects fear, performance-based thinking, and uncertainty about God’s acceptance.
This is why the evolution of Adventist soteriology is not just a story of the past, it’s a journey we are still on. Understanding our history can help us recognize the theological baggage we carry, rediscover the beauty of Christ’s righteousness, and move forward as a church that truly lives by the gospel we proclaim.
Donald: There are many perspectives or angles we can take on what Kiran presented this morning. One, certainly, is this: when we contemplate the idea of putting technology and our faith together, the very idea can feel disruptive. They just don’t seem like natural partners. But technology doesn’t have to be that way. If we think of technology as a tool—well, tools have been with us since the beginning of time: writing, communication, and so on.
One fascinating thing about what you’ve expressed is the idea that today, you can literally connect with someone in England or Australia—and quiet them. In other words, today there would be no way to silence that conversation. I looked up in ChatGPT what the process of communication was between 1840 and 1900, especially in terms of church leadership—though it likely applied to any kind of leadership. Number one, the primary method was postal mail. It doesn’t say how long it took between sending and receiving, but obviously it wasn’t overnight. Second was church publications. It’s not clear whether those were monthly, quarterly, or biannual, but we know that the Review and Herald and Signs of the Timeswere very significant in the foundation of the church. Likely, those tools were used to reprint letters and messages.
Then it mentions the General Conferences, which were held every one to two years—now they’re every five. That shift may be due to cost, but also to our improved ability to communicate. We’re no longer dependent on the first two methods I just described. And then the last couple included personal visits—yes, actual visits to churches and mission fields, along with mission reports and those sorts of things.
So as we think about technology’s influence on the church, I don’t think we should just jump to “Oh, you’re talking about AI.” No—we’re really talking about how communication has evolved. What was happening in the early 1800s, mid-1800s, early 1900s—there’s been a profound transformation. And now, if a conversation were going on in the church, and it was as open as it used to be, I don’t know how church leadership today could suppress it. They wouldn’t be able to prevent it from being shared. People would respond to it—leaders, members, everyone.
That’s an interesting point. Another interesting one, especially for those of us in the Adventist church—sorry for those who aren’t—is this question of “Who do I follow?” I’ve got two churches just three miles apart. I could throw out two names, and you’d know what I mean: “Who do you follow?” So I’m not sure we’ve come that far. I listen to him, and I listen to him—and in both cases, “him.” It’s not a matter of drawing a line; it’s either you’re here or you’re there.
So, the evolution of church matters. The idea of a creed: do we have one? No, we say we don’t—but we do have 28 fundamental beliefs. So we’re not exactly a creed, but we’re not far from it either. It seems to me that nowadays, every five years we gather—but it doesn’t feel like we’re talking about anything major. It’s more about crossing T’s and dotting I’s, reinforcing those 28 beliefs. There’s not much shift, or even discussion, on the kinds of things Kiran presented today.
Just a couple of thoughts that feel important to me, considering how our church began.
C-J: I’ve gone to a lot of different churches, and while the message from the podium is very important to me, it’s not everything. I’m not a beginner trying to figure out what this book says—I can sort through and decide, “Well, I’m not sure I agree with that.” But I might still go—for the music, the people, the time of day, whether there are two services. There are many reasons why someone chooses a particular church building or community.
I think choosing solely based on doctrine is a mistake. The reason I say that is because being “miles and miles apart” in belief can sometimes be helpful. Cognitive dissonance is a tool that helps us grow. “Why do I believe that? What would make that person say something like that?” And then you start to see how what’s said from the podium plays out in people’s lives, in how they conduct themselves and in their internal dialogue.
Churches are always evolving—generationally, in how they view the world. Is it the Pony Express, or is it AI? That’s going to shape how I view God. Even though God is Spirit, not digital, the medium affects how we understand things. Do I really need a Bible to have a personal relationship with God? Do I need a computer to communicate effectively, to edit and streamline my message?
What Kiran has shown through Ellen White’s evolution is powerful: that she came to say, “Yes, I believe in the Trinity. Yes, I believe salvation is by grace. Yes, these foundational beliefs are important. Yes, I see the political energy at play that influences my personal life.” But she also had enough faith in her relationship with God to keep doing the work, no matter where she was—Australia, Timbuktu—it didn’t matter. She led by example.
Most of us keep our internal dialogue private, faith-based. We might say, “I agree,” or “I’d interpret that differently,” or “My practice is this.” In this country, we often value individualism. In other countries, it’s, “No, no, no—we’re all on the same page. No dissent. If you dissent, you’re out.” It’s impolite, or even dangerous. The church has invested a lot of money and energy in presenting a united message, so it’s like, “Don’t be a monkey wrench in the works.”
But what Kiran has done is remarkable. It’s hard—especially without having lived through that time—to look back, dig through the documents and oral traditions, and come out the other side with the understanding that this kind of evolution is important. It’s a common theme in everyone’s life, even if it’s not as public or profound. We need to understand that we are always growing. We should always be questioning. But we should always be looking for good fruit.
Kiran: The reason I went through this historical perspective is that I had so much resistance toward grace—even though I was biblically convinced it was true, that I’m saved by what God does, not what I do.
We all believe Ellen White was a true prophet, and we tend to mythologize her. And then we read some of her writings out of context, especially where she talks about obedience, and we get confused. If she’s the prophet through whom God spoke, and the Bible says something that can go this way or that, but then she speaks very strongly and emphasizes obedience—well, maybe that’s the truth? And that’s the internal battle we face.
If you’ve come through traditional Adventist circles—whether you were born into it or came later—you go through this journey. You go back and forth, struggling internally. That’s why it’s so hard for Adventists to accept grace.
You can take her own words out of context and use them to justify a legalistic position—and that’s not fair. Unless you know the history—where she was in her journey—it’s really hard to let go.
Carolyn: I think what Kiran just said brings up the issue of judgmentalism in a church family—and that judgmentalism spills over into the wider community. We want to set a standard of being welcoming, loving, and accepting. Kiran said it well—I don’t have to say it again.
Don: Part of the issue is this: What is the source of truth? Who is the final arbiter of what is true and what is not? When the church had a prophet, it was easier—we could say, “What does the prophet say? What does God say through the prophet?” But once the prophet is dead—and has been for, not 200 years, but over 100—then the question becomes, what’s the source of truth now? Is it my truth or your truth?
And turning to the Scriptures often doesn’t help, because they can seem contradictory. So, although we have no formal creed and we talk about “new light”—even Ellen White herself talks about finding new light—how do we recognize it? If someone stood up in church and said, “I have new light,” most people would think that person was nuts.
So in this time of uncertainty, the question becomes: What is the source of truth? That’s a question we need to answer—if we can.
C-J: Well, Jesus said to Peter, “Who do you say that I am?” The disciples were having the same conversation. How do we, as Jews by birth, become believers in Jesus—what we’d now call Messianic Jews—without conflict? They weren’t using that term yet, but that was the struggle: to believe in Jesus and still be Jewish.
This whole idea of grace and propitiation—of a human sacrifice—would have been horrifying. But again, it’s generational. I think God is such an incredible concept and personage in the way we experience religion and this framework of belief. Without asking “why,” we don’t grow in any discipline—none. It’s the act of questioning that drives growth. And I think that’s the beauty and wisdom of God.
How many parents say that to their kids? “Why do you think I’m telling you this?” “Why do you think it works that way?” And in our own internal dialogue: “Why do I think I should be responsible for this?” It all comes back to a core. I think that’s what Ellen White was trying to get at, and what other reformers like Martin Luther were trying to do—asking: What is the core of this apparatus that absolutely must remain intact? Then we can build off of it in our own time, and also look toward the future.
Jesus did that. He didn’t elaborate with, “This is the only way to do it.” He said: Search your hearts. Seek God. Very basic: have no other gods before you. Bear good fruit. If it doesn’t bear good fruit, then examine yourself. Listen to leadership because you represent what is best in this idea of God the Father—in terms of grace, in terms of God the Son.
Carolyn: You’ve made good points. But when you’ve been raised with the idea of being a stumbling block, you don’t just live your life for yourself. You’re also thinking about how your life affects others—what you do, what you say, and the spirit in which you do it.
All I know is, I’m thankful for the arms of Jesus. I’m thankful I can rest there. But when it comes to sharing the arms of Jesus, people often look at you, the person. And they have to realize that you’re human—we all make mistakes.
But like Dr. Weaver just said—what is it all about? What is the truth we know for sure? How do we share that truth without becoming a stumbling block by declaring, “This is it”?
C-J: Are you taking on the job of God? It’s God’s job to bring revelation. That guy sitting in church who says the room lit up—God may have revealed something to him that others will never experience. Don’t take that on.
Carolyn, your walk is very personal. You can share that with others, but to make absolute declarations—I agree, that’s God’s role. It’s not my job to say to someone, “And you call yourself a Christian?”
Carolyn: I’m not even saying I would use words. It’s in what I do. There’s a big difference between saying something and living it. I think this really ties into our personal relationship with the Lord. And yes, I agree it’s God’s job. But it’s so deeply ingrained in me that I feel like I have to get it right in order to be able…
Well, I have this little song—and forgive me, I come from the music side of things—but many of you have sung it:
“Into my heart, into my heart,
Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.”
And the second stanza is:
“Shine out of my heart, shine out of my heart,
Lord Jesus.”
And that’s what I want—I want to shine out the right thing. That’s all I’m saying. I’m not trying to put up some legalistic wall for people to climb. I’m not trying to force people into my little standard. But I do want to shine Jesus out of my heart as well as invite Him in.
C-J: Carolyn, you have such a beautiful, sweet spirit. There’s kindness—even in the tone of your voice—and a sincerity that shines through everything you do. Truly, you’re an amazing person.
Donald: For those of us who were raised Seventh-day Adventist, there are a couple of things I ponder. I remember, back in my childhood, every Sabbath morning—every Sabbath morning, and that’s a firm statement—my mom would be in her robe reading the Red Books when I got up. The “Red Books” are the writings of Mrs. White. Now, interestingly, to tie that in—the books labeled “Red Books” are the ones put together by the Adventist Church from Mrs. White’s writings. That’s a little different. They’re compilations of letters centered around a particular theme. They present a clear idea. I’m not saying the church is trying to hide anything—but for those of us in the 1950s and ’60s, Mrs. White was foundational. We called her the “lesser light,” but it wasn’t much lesser.
And I’d like to think that if I’d been raised in a different faith-based home—not Adventist—I still would’ve found my way toward Adventism. But to be honest, I’m not so sure. I’m not so sure I would’ve investigated the church’s beliefs or sought it out. Knowing who I am and how I think, I probably would’ve been fine going to a church that, as Connie said, fit with my schedule, my sense of community, and my need for spiritual nourishment.
Whether that would’ve led me to Adventism is another matter. And practically speaking, it’s a small denomination. In most U.S. communities, there might be one Adventist church—maybe two. So your chances of landing in one are pretty slim, given the hundreds of churches in any area.
So, as we reflect on all of this, I just think—yeah, I was born at a certain time, in a certain place. My personality, my environment, my upbringing—that all shaped how things played out. I went to Adventist schools, married my wife, worked for 40 years in Adventist institutions. That wasn’t a grand plan—it happened because my parents were Adventists and sent me to an Adventist college.
And I think, yes, the bigger issue we’re talking about here is grace versus works. But the way we view that issue is probably shaped, more than we realize, by our environment and our personalities.
Michael: I liked the statistics Kiran gave at the beginning—how youth are less likely to believe they’ll be saved, while pastors seem more assured of their salvation. I wonder if that’s a little hypocritical, because it’s the pastors who are conveying these messages to the youth. But I also wonder—and I have a hypothesis about this—that the further away someone is from the church, the more assured they feel about their salvation. I don’t know if that’s true, but that’s my sense.
Don: Why do you think that is?
Michael: I think it’s the messaging. And it might not even be intentional. Pastors exhort people to be good, to do good, to live righteous lives—but sometimes that can come across, consciously or unconsciously, as implying that if you’re not doing those things, then you don’t have any assurance of salvation. There’s nothing wrong with encouraging people to live righteously, but tying it to salvation—that’s where it becomes a negative message instead of a positive one.
Carolyn: I agree, and I want to throw a question that has to do with the Ten Commandments. Everyone agrees we want to keep them. But if you ask your neighbor about the Sabbath, they’ll say, “Sure, I believe in keeping a Sabbath—it’s just one day in seven,” rather than specifically Saturday, the seventh-day Sabbath. So in their minds, they are keeping the Sabbath. They know they need rest.
I’ve gone through all the arguments about how calendars have or haven’t changed—but I’d love to hear it explained in layman’s terms. When you meet someone and they say, “Oh, you keep Sabbath? We do too”—you realize that, once you’re outside the church, you have to confront a whole new vocabulary.
David: I just can’t believe that 2,000 years ago, Jesus was envisioning a day when 5,000 people would gather every five years or so for a General Conference to cross T’s and dot I’s on the tiniest of points. I imagine He hoped people would simply live His way. The Bible has plenty of I’s to dot and T’s to cross, but as Donald pointed out, spending all your time doing that can help you evade the bigger issues. Connie talked about the core issues too—what really matters.
Well, truth matters, as Don reminded us. And what did Jesus say about the truth? I am the truth. That simple. What did He say about the law? I came to fulfill the law. So if you follow the way of Jesus, then you are fulfilling the law. You don’t need the Ten Commandments and all their I’s and T’s—you just need to follow Jesus. To accept that He is the truth. It’s really very simple.
And I have to believe that religion as a whole—not just the Seventh-day Adventist Church—has gotten it wrong by trying to tease everything out too much.
Kiran: Thinking about Michael’s comment—that people further from the church feel more assurance of salvation—I recall that last week, I asked a related question. If you trace the evolution of soteriology, in Calvinism, humans have no choice—God decides who is saved and who is lost. But if you believe you’re among the saved, then your assurance is absolute. You can’t lose it.
Then Arminianism came along and said, “No, we have free will.” And with that, assurance of salvation went down. Then came Wesley, who said you have to remain in Christ, and stay in grace, and show transformation. And assurance went way down—so much so that people accused Wesley of pushing them back toward Catholicism: the idea that you had to be in the church, participate in the sacraments, follow the rules, or you wouldn’t be saved.
This tension between free will and assurance of salvation has always intrigued me. And now here we are talking about it again.
The Adventist Church, in a way, took Wesleyan theology to the extreme: if grace is in you, you’ll keep the Ten Commandments. That’s how it’s understood. Wesley said, “If grace is in you, you must be transformed. If you’re not transformed, grace isn’t in you.” But Calvin also said, “If God saved you, it will show up in your life. You don’t need to worry about it.”
So I’m still trying to figure out this interplay between free will and assurance of salvation as it evolved through different theological traditions.
Reinhard: I want to add something to what David said. First, we have to understand what Jesus meant when He said, “I came not to abolish the law but to fulfill it.” I think He was talking not about the Ten Commandments, but about the ceremonial law—the sacrifices, what the priests were doing in the temple. That’s what He fulfilled.
But the Ten Commandments—I believe that’s the core law God gave to humanity. It’s how we live, how we worship God, how we love each other. Just as Jesus said: Love God and love your fellow man. So to me, the issue of obedience and grace isn’t really that hard to reconcile. Paul also talks about who will be saved and who won’t. There are moral laws we need to follow. Wicked people—liars, idolaters, immoral people—they won’t enter heaven. That’s in the Bible.
Now, when it comes to the church—this issue of legalism and grace isn’t just an Adventist problem. I think all churches face it. I heard a pastor say recently that there are only two kinds of people: believers and non-believers. Nothing in between. And as believers, we have a duty to follow God’s law. Every Christian believes, “Whoever believes in Jesus will be saved.” But what separates us—Seventh-day Adventists from other churches—is how we understand and practice that belief.
For example, the Sabbath is important. It’s in the Ten Commandments. We believe obeying that is part of honoring God. Other Christians believe Sunday is the right day to worship. That’s their belief. But still, we share the same Bible. All the founders, all the scholars—they all read the same Scriptures.
If we study the Bible deeply, I think it becomes clear what we need to follow. And when we fall short of what God asks, that’s where grace comes in. Grace isn’t just about saving us at the end of time—it’s for daily life too. Grace covers us when we’re lacking. If we’re weak in our faith, grace is there. So obedience and grace go hand in hand. Grace gives us assurance when we’re struggling to live up to what God wants. Grace helps us. Grace, with the Holy Spirit, works in our hearts and shows us the way.
And when we read Scripture—what Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount, for example—we learn how to live a good Christian life. The Ten Commandments boil down to two parts: worship God and love others. We don’t want to hurt others. That’s clear. As far as our specific beliefs go, we hold to Jesus as our Savior. And with the grace He gives us, we can overcome life’s obstacles. That’s what we need to know.
Michael: I just want to quickly respond to Kiran’s comment about determinism in Calvinism versus free will in other traditions. If we’re talking about salvation, then grace itself isn’t really about free will. Grace is, in many ways, deterministic. And I wonder if Kiran is right: that when we believe salvation is deterministic, we tend to feel more assured of it—because it’s in God’s hands. And maybe that is actually a better model for salvation.
Kiran: And also, if you look at the historical context, in every era people were disillusioned by so-called “nominal Christians”—those who were in the church but weren’t Christlike, weren’t loving or kind. That gave rise to moral laxity, what was later called antinomianism—the idea that morality no longer matters under grace.
In response to that, each new phase in soteriology made salvation more dependent on free will and less on assurance, so people would work harder. In Calvinism, you’re saved because God picked you. Once He picks you, He ensures your salvation.
But in Arminianism, you have free choice—and then you have to work hard to stay in the church and live rightly. So yes, you’re right—both models appear in Scripture. Paul talks about both. And when you really read the Bible objectively, without bias, it’s hard to say definitively which view is “correct.” That’s honestly my humblest opinion: the Bible doesn’t give a clear answer.
Michael: But it’s like… we made salvation into a free-will enterprise just to get a couple of bad apples to behave. And when you think about it that way, it really doesn’t make much sense, does it?
Kiran: True—but you also do see free will in the Bible. So while I agree that the “bad apples” may have been in the back of people’s minds, Scripture itself contains verses—both from Jesus and Paul—about choosing to accept Him, choosing to remain in Him. But then you have the parable of the ten virgins: five are accepted, five are not. That’s very Calvinist. So both models are present in the Bible.
Michael: But what if it’s a choice to accept determinism?
Kiran: That’s exactly what Jack Sequeira (d. 1922) proposed. Born to Indian parents in Kenya, he became an evangelist and ended up at Andrews University. He read the Bible deeply and saw that if you pick either Calvinism or Arminianism, you lose something important. So he came up with something called In Christ theology—a model of motive and substitution. What he means is: Jesus secured salvation for everyone on the cross. Every human being is already saved. The only choice you have is to say, “Yes, I want that.” And when you say that, it becomes yours.
You can say that in different language, but in Christian terms it’s: “God, save me.” And then it’s yours. It’s really that simple. I don’t yet fully understand all the nuances of his theology—I’m still reading it—but essentially, Sequeira presents a bridge between the two models. You make a choice—and from that point forward, God ensures your salvation.
Donald: I don’t think we try to reach consensus in this group. We share ideas. But this conversation—grace, salvation, truth—it’s central to the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Sadly, it often gets tangled up in loaded terms like “liberal,” “conservative,” “vaccine,” and so on—terms that do real damage.
People matter. That’s what matters. And when we look at names in our church’s history—or even now, with names like Amazing Facts or Spectrum—we still ask, “Who are you with?” It hasn’t changed much.
Kiran: I don’t think it will change. It’s really hard to get people out of that framework and into objective thinking.
Donald: Sadly, in my experience, a lot of lifelong Adventists simply drift away. They don’t formally renounce the church—they still understand it, identify with it culturally—but they drift away from the kind of conversations we’re having here. They’ve been through it all before, and they’re done.
Don: Yes, and I think we’ll be able to uncover more of these ideas as we discuss where we are in the historical arc—especially as technology starts to impinge more directly on our spirituality.
Donald: Exactly. As Connie Jo noted this morning, stained glass windows were powerful for people who couldn’t read. So we should begin this conversation with an understanding of how faith has historically been transmitted—through the printing press, through literacy. These are not small matters.
Don: As we’ve said before, when God shows up, He usually doesn’t give answers—He starts with questions.
Kiran: “Do you want assurance of salvation?” That’s probably the first question, right? Or: “Do you want free will?”
Don: Or: “Do they worship Me in vain, teaching for doctrines…”
Kiran: “…the commandments of men.” Yes.
Don: That’s why the source of truth is such an important topic of discussion.
Kiran: I stumbled across a whole group of ex-Adventists who discovered the grace message. They realized that the Investigative Judgment wasn’t biblical, and they went on this whole journey. I didn’t bring it up here, but when you read their stories, it’s sobering.
These are people who’ve really thought deeply about salvation, but they feel like they can’t change the church. So they give up. They leave. That’s the reality. I have friends going through the same thing. They’re discovering grace and saying, “The church doesn’t listen. I can’t be who I really am here. Maybe I should leave.”
But their family and friends are still in the church. And that makes it so hard. It’s a really sad situation for a church that claims to have no creed and to welcome “new light.”
Don: Next week, we’re going to begin a new series called Spirituality in the Virtual World—or Spirituality in an Age of the Digital. We’ll explore the history of technology and spirituality and see where that leads us.
* * *
Kiran’s Sources:
https://www.ministrymagazine.org/archive/1988/02/1888-issues-outcomes-lessons
https://lineagejourney.com/read/the-1888-general-conference-session
https://www.adventiststudies.com/perennial-crisis-the-aftermath-of-1888
http://www.sdanet.org/atissue/trinity/TrinityWhidden.htm
https://asitreads.com/2017-9-21-were-seventh-day-adventist-pioneers-arians-or-semi-arians
https://asitreads.com/jm-stephenson
https://encyclopedia.adventist.org/article?id=DA8L
https://encyclopedia.adventist.org/article?id=B9CB
https://www.ministrymagazine.org/archive/1998/04/salvation-pilgrimage
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