I was born a 4th generation SDA on both sides of my family. My maternal
great-grandparents sold their farm to help start what is now Mt. Pisgah Academy in North
Carolina. My mother's parents spent their lives "spreading the message."
On my father’s side, my great-grandfather was sentenced to the chain gang as a
result of defying Sunday blue laws by plowing his field on Sunday.
I was immersed in Adventism. As a child, I knew few non-SDA's. I was
suspicious of "worldly" neighbors, most of whom I avoided. I do
remember being disappointed when my attempts to read The Great Controversy a
couple of playmates failed to produce much interest, let alone converts. Due
primarily to my mother's influence, my family was stricter than most of the other
Adventists I knew. We never ate meat (I am still a vegetarian), went to movies, or
watched much TV. Mrs. White's books filled our bookshelves, and I had read most of
them by the time I was twelve.
I attended SDA schools from 1st grade through my junior year in college. It's
hard to remember much that was positive about my SDA educational experience. Being
supported by a relatively poor local church and conference, the church school and academy
that I attended seemed to be able to only get teachers who had been rejected by better SDA
schools. Almost all my teachers were bad, and some were in no shape to be doing
anything, much less trying to teach. As is true of most people who have been through
the SDA educational system, I was taught next to nothing about literature, art, non-SDA
religion, philosophy, or modern thought. I did learn a lot about the Bible and E.G.
White, but even that was of course filtered through Adventist preconceptions. I took
it all very seriously, never questioning "THE TRUTH" that had been given
to us alone of all the people on the earth. I was also utterly miserable, especially
as an extremely shy adolescent tortured by "impure thoughts" that no amount of
prayer would take away. I realize now that I was seriously depressed, but no one,
including myself, seemed to recognize that anything was amiss.
While in academy, I came across some of Mark Twain's anti-Christian writings that had
somehow found their way into the school library. I was at first shocked, then set to
wondering by the questions he raised. Other than that, I can remember no conscious
doubts about what I had been taught to regard as ultimate truth until I got to college.
I began what was then Southern Missionary College in the fall of 1967, long before the
controversies that have since rocked Adventism came out into the open. As my parents
were unable to help me with tuition, I went to work making Little Debbies (now there's a
fine product for people with a "health message" to be sending out into the
world!) at the McKee Baking Co. At the bakery, for the first time in my life, I was
in contact with a lot of non-Adventists and was surprised to discover that they were not
actively evil!
At SMC I was exposed to a little more sophisticated view of the world than I had
encountered in academy, and had some teachers who actually knew something about what they
were teaching! One day my world history professor said something about Mrs. White's
writings on history being based on a 19th century perspective that was no longer accepted
as valid by modern historians. Having always been told that her writings were
divinely inspired, this threw me for a loop. My "Daniel and Revelation"
teacher, a minister, began the class by saying that no one knew for sure what the various
symbols in those books meant. Having read through Uriah Smith several times,
attended I don't know how many revival meetings featuring the prophetic beasts, and
memorized the 2300 day prophecy with all its various ramifications, I didn't know what to
do with this bit of information. An avid reader of SDA journals, I one day came
across an article in The Review saying that the famous "Dark Day" that I
had grow up believing was a miraculous sign of the end, had in fact been the result of
prairie fires that blackened New England skies. By the end of my sophomore year, my
faith had been seriously shaken but I continued going through the motions.
In the summer before my junior year, I took a class in "The Spirit of
Prophecy" from a man who was reputed to be a great theologian, and a very tough
professor. I almost immediately realized that his reputation was based upon very
shaky sand. He seemed to me to be desperately trying to keep his own doubt at bay.
Having figured out his formula, I made an A almost without trying amid doubts that
were becoming convictions. That fall, the college Week of Prayer featured a speaker
whose mission it was to point out the failings of modern philosophy. It was the
first time I had heard of existentialism, situational ethics, and other topics that were
hot at the time, and his arguments against them seemed less than persuasive. I knew
of no one with whom I could discuss my increasing confusion. Even those people I
knew who were cheerfully engaging in every form of prohibited behavior they could think of
were not interested in questioning basic Adventist beliefs.
I changed majors two or three times during my junior year and my grades took a nosedive
with no one in the SMC administration expressing concern, or apparently even noticing that
something was going on with me. At the end of the year I dropped out, sure of
nothing except the fact that I no longer believed in what had been the very foundation of
my life. I continued going to church off and on, perhaps in hopes of finding some
way out of my confusion. But it only got worse. My last Adventist church
experience was a Christmas service in which the sermon was on the evils of women wearing
pants in public!
Having been conditioned to regard Adventism as the only true expression of
Christianity, it never occurred to me to try other churches. Since the popular
culture at the time was enraptured by things oriental, I began to avidly read everything I
could find on eastern religion, and decided that I was a Buddhist. I suppose this
was fairly safe, actual Buddhists being few and far between in Collegedale, Tennessee!
My twenties was a more or less wandering quest for something that I could believe in.
I was fortunate enough to meet and marry a woman who stayed with me through all the
various turns and dead ends my life took in the first few years we were together. We
became involved in the Unitarian-Universalist Church, where I found a radically open form
of spirituality I would have been beyond my ability to imagine when I was an Adventist.
After moving to California, I went into psychotherapy with a therapist who
recognized the spiritual dimension of my dis-ease. I became acquainted with the work
of C. G. Jung in which I found a connection between psychology and spirituality, as well
as another way of understanding my experience.
In my late twenties, I went back to college to pursue a degree in religious studies.
I planned to concentrate on eastern religions. But then I took a course in
western mysticism, and was astonished to discover a completely new facet of Christianity.
I ended up focusing my studies primarily on early Christianity, finding that it
hadn't happened quite the way I had been told. For the first time since my
disillusionment with Adventism, I was able see Christianity as a valid expression of
spirituality
After my BA, I went to graduate school to become a psycho- therapist. One of my
areas of specialization is former members of fundamentalist religions (including of course
SDA), and I have published a few professional papers on the types of psychological issues
such a background tends to produce.
My Adventist experience has made me wary of organized religion. Over the years I
have been involved off and on with Unitarian-Universalist churches whose insistence on
individual freedom of conscience has a great appeal for me. I don't consider myself
a Christian in the sense of believing in Christ as my savior, but I do know that
Christianity is still a very strong force in my psyche. Christian symbols resonate
deep within my being. Encountering the great cathedrals of England and France, with
their representation of the story of Christianity in glass and stone, was an overwhelming
experience of something so much greater than myself that I don't have adequate words for
it.
I don't entirely regret my SDA background. Without it, I might not have the
appreciation for spirituality, or the rich knowledge of human experience represented by
the Bible that I do. I do, however, regret that it made it so difficult to find a
way that was my own, and that it continues to come between my family, who have no
understanding of why I have chosen beliefs that are not theirs, and myself.
Jim Moyers
mail to: jcmmsm@earthlink.net
Homepage: <http://home.earthlink.net/~jcmmsm/
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