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I Have a Savior! Journey to Discovery
Ruth Qualls
Published on GreatControversy.org on December 2, 2004.
Within the Seventh-day Adventist Church today, some would have us focus our attention mainly on what they term “non-negotiables” such as the Sabbath, the Second Coming of Christ, and other major doctrines. They contend that what we believe on such subjects as the nature of Christ, the nature of man, and our definition of sin, matters little to our salvation. In my studies and experience, I have found that nothing could be further from the truth. What I believed for years on those seemingly unimportant topics shaped my attitude toward God and set the stage for the ultimate battle of my life. What follows is the story of my experimentation with some of the popular gospels in Adventism. Although parts of this journey were difficult to relive, it is my heartfelt hope that perhaps someone who is struggling to find peace with God will be encouraged by my relation of these experiences.
Early Childhood
I was raised in a Seventh-day Adventist home and grew up around adults who were avid students of the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy. From my earliest memories, I recall listening in on lively discussions of topics ranging from prophecy and the investigative judgment to the nature of Christ. Not surprisingly, I quickly learned the doctrines of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, and even to a large degree was able to grasp the various positions in some of the more controversial issues.
In my early years, the most influential adults in my life believed that Christ had come to earth in the unfallen nature of Adam. This belief was based upon the book Questions on Doctrine, published a few years before my birth. I was taught that the only way in which Christ was like me (and therefore different from Adam before his fall) was in His physical nature while on earth. His body was not as strong as Adam’s body because of 4,000 years of sin, so therefore He could get tired, hungry, and maybe even sick. Nevertheless, He had no advantage over me when it came to resisting temptation. So I was told.
Now that last part seemed ridiculous to me even at a young age. How could anyone even suggest that Christ had no advantage over me when I have to struggle against a fallen nature which He didn’t have? I knew that Christ was my substitute. I also knew that He was my example. When I asked how Christ could truly be my example if He didn’t even share my nature, I was told that Christ could not have taken my fallen nature or else He would have sinned and thus could not have been my Savior.
I well knew the inspired teaching that I must overcome as Christ overcame (Revelation 3:21) if I intended to stand through the time of trouble without a Mediator.
Those who are living upon the earth when the intercession of Christ shall cease in the sanctuary above are to stand in the sight of a holy God without a mediator. Their robes must be spotless, their characters must be purified from sin by the blood of sprinkling. Through the grace of God and their own diligent effort they must be conquerors in the battle with evil. While the investigative judgment is going forward in heaven, while the sins of penitent believers are being removed from the sanctuary, there is to be a special work of purification, of putting away of sin, among God’s people upon earth (The Great Controversy, p. 425).
The entire situation seemed appallingly unfair in my mind. How could I be asked to do something that even Christ could not do? The answer that I could overcome in God’s strength rang hollow to me. Didn’t Christ have God’s strength, too? Yet, I was told, He would have sinned if He had taken on my fallen nature—with or without God’s strength, apparently.
Rebellious thoughts sprang up in my mind, yet I didn’t dare to voice them. The authority figures in my life had declared how things were, so who was I to question it? After all, they had been studying the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy for many more years than I had been alive. What did I know compared with them? Who was I to question God? It didn’t seem fair, but as they say, life is not fair. I would simply have to do the best I could in an apparently impossible situation.
Contradictions
I don’t know exactly when I gave my life to God. As far back as I can remember I wanted to follow God and do what was right. When I learned to read I started to study the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy for myself. My parents taught me to spend some time alone each morning, reading and praying. I was baptized when I was nine years old. As I grew older I didn’t often think about the nature of Christ question anymore, though when I came across statements such as the following, doubts would gnaw at the back of my mind causing me to wonder if what I had been taught was really correct.
It would have been an almost infinite humiliation for the Son of God to take man’s nature, even when Adam stood in his innocence in Eden. But Jesus accepted humanity when the race had been weakened by four thousand years of sin. Like every child of Adam He accepted the results of the working of the great law of heredity. What these results were is shown in the history of His earthly ancestors. He came with such a heredity to share our sorrows and temptations, and to give us the example of a sinless life (The Desire of Ages, p. 49).
Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the same; that through death He might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. For verily He took not on Him the nature of angels; but He took on Him the seed of Abraham. Wherefore in all things it behoved Him to be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succour them that are tempted (Hebrews 2:14-18).
It seemed as if these passages, and others like them, were saying that Christ just might have taken on my nature, but then I would be forced to face the possibility that the things I had been taught, by people I greatly respected, were incorrect. I didn’t have enough confidence in my own abilities as a Bible student to seriously consider that option. Who was I to launch out on my own and formulate my own system of beliefs? So I concluded that probably the quotes were referring to the physical nature of Christ exclusively and that if I could only understand the passages more clearly they wouldn’t seem to contradict what I had been taught. How powerful indeed are the early teachings in the life of a child to mold the thinking!
Sin and Confess, Sin and Confess….
As I grew older I became increasingly frustrated with my spiritual life. It seemed a continual round of sin and confess, sin and confess. I would pray for help. I would study God’s Word. But as soon as it seemed that I had overcome a sin, it would sprout up again when I least expected it, along with half a dozen others even more horrible. Where was real victory? I would talk as if I believed that I would go to heaven when Jesus returned. At times I thought that some day something would change in my spiritual life so I would be able to go, but deep in the secret places of my mind and heart, where no one else had permission to explore, I knew the truth. I would never make it. But I had to keep on trying. After all, what was the alternative?
Righteousness by Faith
In the mid-1980’s I went to college. I was thrilled to discover that the pastor of the college church I would be attending was considered one of Adventism’s foremost experts on the subject of “righteousness by faith.” I had heard that phrase all my life, but wasn’t totally sure what it meant. All the same, it sounded like just what I needed. Finally, I thought, I am going to get a handle on my Christian experience so I can at last be what God wants me to be.
My first Sabbath at the college church was very exciting. I arrived early for the first service and sat in the front. No one was going to distract me from hearing what I needed to hear. The pastor spoke about the importance of having a relationship with God. I knew what it meant to have a relationship with a friend—you spend time together talking and listening. That’s great, I thought. My devotion time every morning spent praying and studying the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy will be my key to having a relationship with God. I was already focused on the life of Christ, reading sections from The Desire of Ages along with the four gospels every morning, so that was even better, I reasoned.
As I attended church every Sabbath and prayer meeting every Wednesday night, I heard more and more about what having a relationship with God would mean for my life. According to this pastor, righteousness by faith was equivalent to having a relationship with God. Sin, on the other hand, was a broken relationship. My wrong thoughts, words, and acts were merely the fruit of a broken relationship. Rather than focusing on overcoming sinful thoughts and behavior, I needed to focus on building my relationship with God. Indeed, striving to overcome sinful behavior was actually legalism, whereas if I had a proper relationship with God, then I would no longer want to sin. All of this seemed reasonable enough and I was eagerly anticipating the day when I would obey God because I wanted to, and would stop sinning because sin would no longer appeal to me.
Something Amiss
It didn’t take too many weeks before I realized that something was amiss. The much-longed-for results in my Christian experience were not going according to plan, although I faithfully “worked” on my relationship with God every morning.
I remember being confronted by temptation and feeling the urge to give in to it. Rather than praying for help as I had sometimes in the past, I felt shocked and confused. Obviously I had broken my relationship with God or I wouldn’t feel tempted to sin.
Then came the dilemma. In God’s eyes I had already sinned (broken my relationship). If I struggled against the temptation, that would be legalism; whereas, if I caved in to it, that would be sinning. My broken relationship, which had led to my being tempted in the first place, was undoubtedly already recorded against me as sin, so I had little hope that God would be impressed by my resisting the temptation now. If I did resist, wouldn’t I just be a legalistic Pharisee? On the other hand, if I gave in to the temptation, I would be sinning like a publican (Luke 18:9-14).
Over and over again, it had been emphasized that Jesus looked with far more favor on the sinful publican than on the legalistic Pharisee. With this thought fresh in my mind, I decided that I might as well go ahead and enjoy my sin this time, instead of committing the worse transgression of being a legalist.
Tragically, all too often that was my choice, followed by guilt and self-condemnation. Maybe next time my relationship with God would be adequate to keep the temptation away. At times I managed to somehow avoid succumbing to temptation, only to be devastated by the guilt of knowing I was a legalist, so God must still disapprove of me.
Again and again I endured the scenario just described. Regardless of the nature of the temptation, the problem was always the same. Somehow, although I couldn’t imagine how, I was breaking my relationship with God. Otherwise, why was I constantly faced with the urge to sin? I was still spending time with God every morning, but somehow that elusive relationship was just not happening.
Another result of this relationship theology manifested itself in my confessions to God. During my nightly prayers, rather than asking God to forgive specific sinful thoughts, words, or actions I had indulged that day, I would pray, “Please forgive me for breaking my relationship with You.” At times, I’m ashamed to admit, this generalized “confession” of “sin” enabled me to sidestep an uncomfortable, frank discussion with God about certain sins that I enjoyed and wasn’t in any hurry to give up. I knew in my heart that this was probably a dangerous situation, but flattered myself with the thought that when my relationship with God became good enough, I would no longer want to do those sins, and then it would be easy to forsake them, wouldn’t it?
The next morning, my prayer was similar, only this time I would say, “Please help me not to break my relationship with You today.” Thus began another day of failure and defeat.
Relationship, Relationship, Relationship….
By now, things were different on Sabbath mornings. Rather than sitting near the front in church, I would slip into the back of the balcony. Sometimes I would feel like skipping church altogether, but old habits are hard to break, so I continued to attend. I knew God wanted me to be there, but I was no longer thrilled by what I was hearing. Every Sabbath it was always the same—relationship, relationship, relationship. And I knew it didn’t work.
There I sat, desperately wanting to obey God, but having no idea how to accomplish that feat. My heart and mind were as cold and desolate as the bleak winter landscape outside. Sometimes I would cry in despair. Other times I would mentally argue with the pastor as he preached. And then there were those times when my thoughts raged in frustration, bordering on anger. Will someone please tell me what in the world a “relationship” with God is—how do I have one, and how do I keep from breaking it?!
Despair
It seemed that my entire Christian experience had been reduced to a round of rituals that I performed because I didn’t know what else to do. Pray, study the Bible, go to church, try to act nice, etc., etc. There was no victory over sin, no joy, and certainly no peace. My Christianity was a sham. Outwardly I maintained proper behavior when I was around people; I acted cheerful and said and did all the right things. After all, I was a fourth generation Seventh-day Adventist, so therefore I would be held to a higher standard, right? Sometimes I even heard people say that I was “such a good example of a fine, Christian, young lady.”
Ha! I knew much better than that. I was a true “whited sepulchre,” seemingly righteous on the outside, but within full of uncleanness, hypocrisy, and iniquity (see Matthew 23:27, 28).
I didn’t feel that I could talk to anyone about my dilemma for fear they would see through my charade and hate me as much as I hated myself. Even Christ could not understand what I was going through because He wasn’t really like me when He lived on earth. Sure, the Bible says that He was tempted, but what did that really mean? I didn’t think it had much to do with me and my struggles.
My problem wasn’t my physical nature, my “innocent” infirmities—that I could get hungry, tired, sick, or that it hurt when someone hit me. My cursed, fallen nature was my unconquerable foe, and that was precisely the thing that Christ and I did not have in common. He could never sympathize with me because He had never experienced what it was like to battle against a fallen nature. Bitterly I would think, I’d like to try my hand at overcoming temptation with an unfallen nature like Christ had. I bet I wouldn’t do too badly.
How wretched my life had become! Against my will I found myself in a mess that was not of my own devising. It wasn’t my sin that ruined this world. No one consulted with me to see if I wanted to be born with a fallen nature in a sinful world where my entire life would consist of a hopeless battle against the inevitable. I was like a child saying, “I don’t want to play this game anymore.” But I had no choice. The rules of the game were clear. Overcome sin or burn to death some day, and I wasn’t doing very well at the overcoming part. I would think, How sad to struggle and suffer all my life only to come up a failure at last and lose out on everything. What an end to such a hopeful beginning. Then I would smile sweetly and continue to put on my “fine, Christian, young lady” act.
Distrust and Fear
It should come as no surprise that I had little trust in God. He lived far away, and even Jesus couldn’t understand the things that mattered most to me. I never stated such suspicions out loud, but all the same, they shaped my thinking. It seemed that my whole life was controlled by fear of everything imaginable. I feared making a “B” in a course. I feared the disapproval of people I admired. I feared rejection. I feared angry people. If I complained about something that was minor, I feared that God would punish me by giving me something worth complaining about. Fear of the possible consequences of my actions kept me outwardly on the “strait-and-narrow way” while everyone else around me seemed to be having fun.
As I approached college graduation and still hadn’t met “Mr. Right,” I feared that God had decided I should spend my life alone. Or worse yet, I feared that it might be “His will” for me to marry some obnoxious, embarrassing type of man because it would be good for my “character development.” (Oh, there were so many ways in which “God’s will” could potentially make my life miserable!) And over all these lesser fears loomed the specter that I would never find a way to overcome sin in my life and thus would be eternally lost.
I could talk convincingly of the importance of trusting God and I would encourage my friends who were worrying about things to trust that God would take care of their situations. I would pray for my friends and truly believe that God would answer. But when it came to my own life, there was little relief from fear and worry. After all, God knew what I was really like, so how could I expect Him to help me with anything?
When God answered one of my prayers for myself (which He did many times), I would be surprised and thrilled and would start to trust Him a little bit more. But when the next fear-inspiring situation arose, I would wonder if He would come through for me this time, or if I would be “hung out to dry,” for my own good, of course.
The Turning Point
In the summer of 1988 between my junior and senior years in college, I was given a copy of the book The Consecrated Way by A. T. Jones. I had occasionally heard of A. T. Jones and E. J. Waggoner as I was growing up, and again when I took a college course on Adventist history. Somehow I had always come away with the impression that they were apostates similar to, though not quite as bad as, D. M. Canright and A. F. Ballenger. With all the interest that year in what had happened at the 1888 Minneapolis General Conference, I started to investigate the subject and found out that Ellen White had actually endorsed the messages of Jones and Waggoner. Why had I never noticed that before?
The Lord in His great mercy sent a most precious message to His people through Elders Waggoner and Jones. This message was to bring more prominently before the world the uplifted Saviour, the sacrifice for the sins of the whole world. It presented justification through faith in the Surety; it invited the people to receive the righteousness of Christ, which is made manifest in obedience to all the commandments of God. Many had lost sight of Jesus. They needed to have their eyes directed to His divine person, His merits, and His changeless love for the human family. All power is given into His hands, that He may dispense rich gifts unto men, imparting the priceless gift of His own righteousness to the helpless human agent. This is the message that God commanded to be given to the world. It is the third angel’s message, which is to be proclaimed with a loud voice, and attended with the outpouring of His Spirit in a large measure (Testimonies to Ministers and Gospel Workers, pp. 91, 92).
I knew I must find out exactly what that message was that God had sent through Jones and Waggoner. As I read The Consecrated Way, I felt as if I was beginning to see for the first time in my life. After all those years of believing that Christ’s nature was so different from mine that He was hopelessly distant from me, that He couldn’t understand how I felt, and that His life of victory was impossibly out of my reach, I discovered the truth.
‘For verily He took not on Him the nature of angels; but He took on Him the seed of Abraham. Wherefore in all things it behooved Him to be made like unto His brethren,’ whose blood-brother He became in the confirming of the everlasting covenant.
And this He did, in order that wherein ‘He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted.’ For He was ‘in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ Hebrews 4:15. Being made in His human nature, in all things like as we are, He could be, and He was, tempted in all points like as we are. The only way in which He could possibly be tempted ‘like as we are’ was to become ‘in all things’ ‘like as we are.’
As in His human nature He is one of us, and as ‘Himself took our infirmities’ (Matthew 8:17), He could be ‘touched with the feeling of our infirmities.’ Being in all things made like us, He, when tempted, felt just as we feel when we are tempted, and knows all about it: and so can help and save to the uttermost all who will receive Him. As in His flesh, and as in Himself in the flesh, He was as weak as we are, and of Himself could ‘do nothing’ (John 5:30); so when He bore ‘our griefs, and carried our sorrows’ (Isaiah 53:4), and was tempted as we are, feeling as we feel, by His divine faith He conquered all by the power of God which that faith brought to Him, and which in our flesh He has brought to us….
And this is ‘the faith of Jesus’ and the power of it. This is our Saviour: one of God, and one of man; and therefore able to save to the uttermost every soul who will come to God by Him (The Consecrated Way, pp. 25, 26, all emphasis original).
That tiny spark of hope in my mind, long ago almost extinguished, began to smolder again. Jesus was my Savior after all. He did understand the strength of my temptations and my desperate longing to be free. And what was that He was offering me? Power? Imagine that!
And suddenly I was seeing it everywhere. All through the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy statements seemed to leap off the pages proving the point again and again. How could I have been so blind for so long?
For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit (Romans 8:3, 4).
As one of us He [Jesus] took upon Himself our nature, and passed through our experiences. ‘In all things it behooved Him to be made like unto His brethren.’ Hebrews 2:17. If we had to bear anything which Jesus did not endure, then upon this point Satan would represent the power of God as insufficient for us. Therefore Jesus was ‘in all points tempted like as we are.’ Hebrews 4:15. He endured every trial to which we are subject. And He exercised in His own behalf no power that is not freely offered to us. As man, He met temptation, and overcame in the strength given Him from God. He says, ‘I delight to do Thy will, O My God: yea, Thy law is within My heart.’ Psalm 40:8…. His life testifies that it is possible for us also to obey the law of God (The Desire of Ages, p. 24).
I also read books by Waggoner, including Glad Tidings and Christ and His Righteousness. Slowly I started to grasp the truth of what Christ had done for me. He had taken on my nature and in that fallen nature had met every temptation and obeyed God perfectly. The same power that had created the universe was the power He wanted to use to make me a new creature. The sticking point was whether I believed that He could accomplish that fact in my life, or not. If I wouldn’t believe it, then it would never happen.
As I studied, I came to the realization that I had been wrong to think of temptation as sin. In my warped reasoning, brought on by a false theology, I had thought that a good relationship with God would somehow end temptation as I knew it. The Bible plainly states that Christ was tempted in all the same ways that we are tempted, yet He never sinned, so how could temptation itself be sin? In 1 John 3:4 the Bible clearly defines sin as “the transgression of the law.”
Detour
I wish I could say that when I started to study the 1888 message I finally got my head on straight and I went on to a life of uninterrupted victory and joy. But such was not the case. I still had another lesson to learn about the pitfalls of following men’s ideas instead of testing all things by the word of Inspiration. Unfortunately this detour occupied several years of my life.
I started reading other books that purported to explain the 1888 message more clearly. I even attended seminars where I listened to speakers, including the authors of those books, explain what they believed to be the message God had sent to His people in 1888. Many beautiful concepts were presented, but some new ideas were also introduced into my mind which I had never found in the Bible, Spirit of Prophecy, or the writings of Jones and Waggoner. Again I foolishly reasoned that if I had properly understood the inspired writings and those of Jones and Waggoner, I would have been able to see everything from this new perspective all along.
One popular Adventist book published in 1993 especially influenced my thinking. Particularly through that book’s interpretation of Romans 5, I came to believe that the entire human race was unconditionally saved (justified and reconciled to God) at the Cross, just as we all “fell” in Adam when he sinned and thus became guilty and condemned before God.
Through the influence of that book and the others I was reading, I came to believe that since the entire human race was already saved, in order to make it effective in the lives of individuals they merely needed to become informed of that accomplished fact. The response that would follow would be gratitude, which would somehow lead to obedience to the law of God as a “subjective” fruit of the already accomplished “objective” salvation (Christ’s imputed righteousness).
Furthermore, for people to be lost, they would have to “throw away” that salvation they already possessed. If they did not actively reject it and fight against it, willfully and persistently, they would be drawn to Christ and saved. If it was necessary for a person to first repent and accept salvation before receiving it, then the person could take “credit” for having “done something” toward gaining salvation, and that would be legalism. I wasn’t totally sure where repentance fit into this picture but assumed that probably it would be part of the “subjective” fruit, something I would do because of my heartfelt appreciation for the salvation I already possessed.
I still had an extreme dread of legalism and much contempt for those I deemed to be “Pharisees,” “legalists,” and “fanatics.” Because of what I believed to be my own vast experience as a “legalist,” I considered myself an expert on recognizing all such, and was determined to avoid anything tending in that direction. Consequently I liked my new version of the gospel in which obedience would spring automatically from my heartfelt appreciation of what Christ had done for me.
To gain that appreciation (and thus that long-hoped-for experience of obedience), I found myself back where I had begun so many years before, studying and praying every morning. Only this time I wasn’t trying to “develop a relationship with Christ,” but rather trying to “get to know Him” so that I would have that heartfelt appreciation of what He had done for me. Or were those two really the same thing? I wasn’t sure.
Though I hadn’t started obeying God “automatically” yet, I was happier and more hopeful than I had been in years. I felt sure I wasn’t “willfully and persistently” rejecting the salvation so graciously given me by God. Furthermore, I knew that obedience to all God’s requirements was at least possible. Through God’s strength, Jesus had obeyed even though He had a nature like mine, and now He was offering that strength to me. But I still hadn’t discovered exactly how to tap into it in my daily life. That was the part that no one seemed to be able to explain to me in practical terms.
“Character Development”
This story of my spiritual journey would be incomplete without some reference to my marriage. Two years after I graduated from college (during my “detour” time), God brought a childhood acquaintance back into my life. I hadn’t seen him for 13 years. A year later we were married.
David is everything I had ever hoped to find in a man. He is a kind, courteous, Christian gentleman, yet courageous and bold in standing for the truth, regardless of the cost to himself. When I met him again, I could hardly believe such a man even existed (at least unmarried) and I am still amazed that he chose me. It hadn’t ever been in God’s plan to marry me off to the “obnoxious, embarrassing” type of man I had feared. And the “character development” I’ve experienced as a result of my marriage has been due to the Christ-like leadership and example of my husband, not to any bad behavior on his part to which I must adjust. Again, God proved His goodness and love to me.
Perhaps most precious and valuable is David’s longsuffering patience, which has nearly reached Job-like proportions after 12 years of marriage to me. Yes, “character development” has indeed occurred in our marriage!
The “Gospel” vs. the “Legalists”
In 1994 someone loaned us tapes of meetings that had recently been held between a number of well-known individuals in the Adventist church. Present at those meetings were some of the authors and speakers whose views of the 1888 message had so influenced my thinking. Also present were the leaders of several prominent independent ministries, men whom I judged to be “legalists.” The topic of discussion was that 1993 book mentioned above which I believed contained the true gospel. The author was present to defend it.
I listened with intense interest to the discussion. The author and his supporters insisted that the book presented the true Biblical gospel, while the “legalists” were adamant that it contained dangerous, un-Biblical ideas that would lead people astray.
Then came the discussion of Romans 5. One of the “legalists” was chosen to go through the chapter, verse by verse, and explain his views regarding it. The author of the 1993 book would do the same. I was mentally rooting for the author, but as I listened, something disturbed me. He kept insisting that only the Bible be used and that Romans 5 should be explained “exegetically,” without relying on the Spirit of Prophecy to settle any differences.
In spite of my bias in his favor, the author seemed slightly arrogant to me. The “legalist,” on the other hand, humbly presented Romans 5 as it reads, explaining his views simply and backing them up with other Bible verses and Spirit of Prophecy quotes. I couldn’t help being impressed even as I desperately tried to build up barriers in my mind against what he was saying. The difference between the two presentations was extremely troubling to me. In all my mixed up thinking, this one thing had remained firmly set in my mind: the Spirit of Prophecy was inspired by God, contained the truth, and agreed with the Bible. Though I wasn’t following that truth very well, or studying it as much as I should, I knew it could never be set aside in favor of man’s interpretations of the Bible, exegetical or otherwise.
Many things were said, but one point in particular stands out in my memory. The author insisted that God had unconditionally saved (justified) all humanity at the cross. The “legalists” insisted that there are conditions the sinner must meet before pardon (justification) can occur, that Calvary made “provision” for our salvation, but we are not justified until we repent and have faith in Jesus.
Sinners can be justified by God only when He pardons their sins, remits the punishment they deserve, and treats them as though they were really just and had not sinned, receiving them into divine favor and treating them as if they were righteous (Selected Messages, vol. 3, p. 194).
When through repentance and faith we accept Christ as our Saviour, the Lord pardons our sins, and remits the penalty prescribed for the transgression of the law (Selected Messages, vol. 3, p. 191).
Christ pardons none but the penitent, but whom He pardons He first makes penitent. The provision made is complete, and the eternal righteousness of Christ is placed to the account of every believing soul (Selected Messages, vol. 1, p. 393-394).
I couldn’t find any fault with the arguments the “legalists” presented, except that they contradicted my cherished ideas. How could they possibly be right? They were “legalists” following in the footsteps of those who had rejected the message of righteousness by faith back in 1888. At least, that’s what I had been told by “reliable” sources. If things went their way in the church, how would we ever be ready for Jesus’ return? He would have to delay His coming again, wouldn’t He?
I didn’t admit anything to anyone, but my faith in my version of the gospel was shaken. When I tried to read the books I had believed in so whole-heartedly, doubts nagged at my mind. When I went back to the Bible, Spirit of Prophecy, and Jones and Waggoner’s writings, I kept seeing things that supported the views of the “legalists.” My neatly organized theology had been messed up, and I wasn’t sure where to turn.
I began drifting spiritually. Nothing I read really appealed to me, and I didn’t feel much like praying. I went through the motions of being a “fine, Christian, young lady,” but my attitude was far from that of a Christian. I started compromising in little ways, doing things I knew God wouldn’t approve. At the same time, I was very judgmental, viewing life cynically and missing no opportunity to criticize and condemn “legalists” and their standards.
Indeed, when I saw anyone trying to follow all the inspired counsels of God in the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy, I judged them to be “extreme” and imagined that they had a “holier-than-thou” attitude. If I found out that one of them had made a mistake, I gloated over the fact that they were really no better than I, in spite of their supposed “holiness.” In reality, I felt condemned by their example. But I justified my attitude and behavior by reminding myself that I didn’t want to be “extreme” or have an “overactive conscience.” I was determined to be “tolerant” and “balanced.”
One Thing
When I finished graduate school and my husband completed his degree in computer science, life was looking good. He took a job with a fast-growing telecommunications company and I found employment teaching in a community college. We were on track to grab our piece of the American dream.
There was just one thing that wasn’t going according to plan. We were paying off our school debt, we were well on our way to buying our first home, and we were finally able to take those dream vacations out West that I had always longed to take. But I wanted my way on one more thing, and I wasn’t sure God would cooperate with me. I prayed about it and worried a lot, but things weren’t working out according to my will.
I Have a Savior
One night I awoke at 2:00 AM. The situation involving that “one thing” came to my mind with desperate persistence. I was recovering from a cold and my husband was sleeping in another room so he wouldn’t be kept awake by my coughing and sniffles. As I lay alone in the dark going over and over the situation in my mind, I became increasingly discouraged. Why hadn’t God answered all my prayers up to this point?
I started to pray again, insisting that I must have it my way on this one thing. Any alternative to my way would simply not work. In fact, it would ruin my life. As I made my “demands” of God, a thought kept intruding into my mind, You must ask for God’s will to be done. You mustn’t demand to have your way.
That stopped me for a moment. Then I resumed my prayers. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. But I couldn’t bring myself to say, “Your will be done.” Couldn’t God see what I needed here? If things didn’t work out my way, my life wouldn’t be worth living. But always the answer in my mind was the same, You must ask for God’s will to be done.
The darkness in the room was oppressive, but it was nothing compared with the darkness in my mind. All I could think about was my desperation to have this one thing work out. I would start to say, “Your will be done,” but then I would take it back. Years of distrust and belief that God did not really understand my struggles now bore their bitter fruit. Logic mattered little as emotion held sway.
My old fears revived. What if it was God’s will for me to endure something other than what I wanted? Maybe He had some new and terrible “character development” plan for my life. If I asked for His will to be done, wouldn’t that be giving Him “permission” to possibly bring on me something I did not want? If I said, “Your will be done,” might He not think that I was saying it would be all right with me if He said “No” to my prayers? That was unthinkable. More than once the thought came to me that God might be asking, “Don’t you trust Me?” And I realized that the answer was, “No, I don’t.” That frightened me.
As I wrestled with the situation in my mind I started to think how nice it would be to escape from this struggle. I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, unless I could have my way. I feared that God had already decided that the answer would be “No.” A couple bottles of unfinished prescription pain pills in my bathroom cabinet came to mind. How many would it take? As I contemplated the possibilities I realized that if I was successful, the next thing I’d know I would be waking up in the second resurrection to face the final punishment for self-murder. If I was unsuccessful… well that would attract far too much attention. I’d have a lot of explaining to do and I’d probably never live it down. Neither of those options seemed in any way desirable. OK, forget the pills. There had to be another way.
I finally prayed and asked God to forgive my sins, let me fall asleep, and make me die before morning. I didn’t want the guilt of suicide on me, but I reasoned that if God did it, then I could still be saved… maybe. Even as I prayed I realized how disgustingly selfish I was. What about my husband? How would he feel if I died? Stubbornly I reasoned that he might actually be better off without me. What good would I be to him if my life was ruined by God telling me “No.” At one point, it entered my mind that even if I couldn’t have my way, perhaps I could still glorify God by facing the future with courage and grace. But I brushed that thought aside. That was asking far too much.
Three and a half hours later I was completely exhausted, but still had found no peace from my torment. I realized that I was getting nowhere and that perhaps surrender to God’s will was my only viable option. It was one of the hardest prayers I have ever prayed, but in desperation I finally said, “OK, do whatever You want with me. I can’t go on like this anymore.”
I was curled up in a ball, clutching my pillow, and crying harder than I ever remember crying in my life. My mind seemed totally dark, empty, and numb. But then, through my misery, seemingly out of nowhere, a thought suddenly crystallized in my mind with startling clarity: Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane surrendering His will to the Father, then falling to the ground where He would have died had an angel not come to strengthen Him. In my mind it seemed as if He said to me, “I understand. I’ve been through it, too. You can trust me.” Suddenly, it wasn’t all about me anymore. My heart was totally broken as I realized that He had gone through that horrible anguish in Gethsemane because of me and my sins. My selfish tears were replaced by tears of repentance. Finally I understood the true depth of meaning in Hebrews 4:15. “For we have not an High Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.” Surrendering my will to the will of God was my greatest struggle, and it was Jesus’ greatest struggle, too, because He took my nature. At last, I fell asleep as I surrendered my future into His capable, sympathetic hands.
That night, five and a half years ago, was a defining moment in my life. I know now that I have a Savior who loves me more than anyone could ever love me. I can tell Him all my worries and fears, all my hopes and dreams, and know that He understands and cares for me. He has nothing but my best interest at heart. Whatever the future holds, I know He will be there and I can trust Him.
Yet Another Gospel
A little over a year later a situation arose in my life that forced me to rethink my entire belief system. I was suddenly confronted with another gospel. Some dear people very close to me began attempting to convince me that this gospel was the answer to everything. It purported to provide the peace with God for which I had always longed, and promised full assurance of salvation.
Enjoying the support of many well-known theologians, as well as being highly regarded in many Protestant churches, it was now taking Adventism by storm. This was one of the strongest challenges of my life. The “good news” provided by this gospel seemed good indeed. But as I began to investigate, I soon discovered that something didn’t line up with the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy.
This new gospel stated that salvation consists of justification by faith alone. Sanctification is a mere fruit of an already-attained salvation, and is therefore not included in the “righteousness by faith” spoken of by Paul. Justification consists of a legal, forensic declaration (counting) on God’s part with no action to change the sinner. Conversion is a fruit of salvation.
According to this gospel, man’s nature is so depraved that it requires continuous, ongoing justification to cover his guilt even when he is fully surrendered to God and controlled by the indwelling Holy Spirit. Furthermore, this continuous, ongoing justification is necessary until death or glorification at the Second Coming. Christ therefore could not have taken the same fallen nature that humans possess; otherwise He would have been corrupted by guilt.
This gospel was bringing me back full circle to my childhood belief system. Only this time, there was a nice shortcut. I needn’t worry about perfectly obeying the holy Law of God, even in the strength of Christ. Indeed, such a goal would be impossible because of my fallen nature. According to this gospel, since Christ completed the atonement at the Cross, I could now be covered with His imputed righteousness, and have full assurance of salvation even as I continued to fall short of the Divine standard. Christ would simply “declare” me righteous and I would be free. Sanctification would follow such a declaration, but would never be complete in this lifetime, thus requiring the ongoing justification.
What tipped me off to trouble was the logical conclusion to which this gospel drove many of its proponents. It did not harmonize with the Seventh-day Adventist understanding of the investigative judgment with its Antitypical Day of Atonement message. So much did this gospel conflict with Adventist teachings regarding these truths, that many had been forced to conclude that either 1844 was a non-event or that the investigative judgment was nothing more than an assurance-affirming process in which Jesus would simply declare the innocence of the saints.
The attacks on Adventism put forth by the proponents of this New Theology were powerful indeed. Initially, I almost despaired. Doubts arose and Satan pressed home the dark thought that perhaps I had been misled all these years in my belief that the Seventh-day Adventist Church was the remnant church.
But although the ideas presented to me were persuasive and often appealing, I refused to simply swallow them. I had been through too much. This time I would study and find out what the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy, in their entirety, had to say about the subject. I would not try to stretch and twist the inspired sources to make them fit some New Theology, no matter who was promoting it.
Embarking on a journey of deep study, I found that instead of being a vulnerable belief system that could not stand the test of time, or the most rigorous inspection, the Seventh-day Adventist message was as sound as ever. The evidences for the truth kept piling up the further I dug. I became more confident as my studies progressed, until I was thoroughly convinced that my beliefs were solidly planted on a sure foundation.
And so this time, by God’s grace, I did not succumb to another perversion of the pure gospel. Because of my faith in the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy instilled in me by my parents, I was enabled to stand up against this latest assault. God overruled, and a potentially faith-destroying situation became a powerful faith-building experience as I studied, prayed, and grew in my knowledge of God and His truth.
The True Gospel—Finally!
Each false gospel with which I had experimented, appeared superficially to agree with the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy, but upon closer examination it became evident that there were serious contradictions. To persist in believing such unbiblical theology, one must either have a “beat-it-to-fit, paint-it-to-match” mentality, attempting to force contradictory ideas to harmonize with Inspiration, or simply downplay or ignore the inspired writings.
In stark contrast to this, the true gospel is clear, consistent with itself, and with all of Inspiration. If we would set aside the theories of men and prayerfully take the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy, in their entirety, just as they read, we would know the truth.
For years I had possessed just enough religion to make me miserable. I knew what God required—victory over sin. But the gospel I had believed made that goal unattainable. The teaching that Jesus came to earth in the unfallen nature of Adam, but that God still requires us to overcome all sin, leads to the ultimate legalism. The expectations are clear, but sinners are only provided with a Savior very distant from themselves, One who is unable to give them complete victory over sin. Indeed, for all practical purposes, they have no Savior.
But the true gospel makes plain the Biblical view of the nature of Christ. Jesus came to earth in the “likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit” (Romans 8:3, 4). He was as human as we are, yet He set a perfect example for us in His sinless life. And by the strength from His indwelling Spirit, we also can have complete victory over sin.
Justification is much more than a mere legal declaration which “counts” the sinner righteous. It is not a cloak of imputed righteousness to cover ongoing sin in the life. Justification is the same as pardon or forgiveness. To justify means to make righteous. Inspiration explains this concept clearly:
Pardon and justification are one and the same thing (Ellen G. White, Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary, vol. 6, p. 1070).
Abundant grace has been provided that the believing soul may be kept free from sin; for all heaven, with its limitless resources, has been placed at our command…. In ourselves we are sinners; but in Christ we are righteous. Having made us righteous through the imputed righteousness of Christ, God pronounces us just, and treats us as just. He looks upon us as His dear children. Christ works against the power of sin, and where sin abounded, grace much more abounds. ‘Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God’ (Romans 5:1, 2) (Selected Messages, vol. 1, p. 394, emphasis supplied).
But forgiveness has a broader meaning than many suppose. When God gives the promise that He ‘will abundantly pardon,’ He adds, as if the meaning of that promise exceeded all that we could comprehend: ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.’ Isaiah 55:7-9. God’s forgiveness is not merely a judicial act by which He sets us free from condemnation. It is not only forgiveness for sin, but reclaiming from sin. It is the outflow of redeeming love that transforms the heart. David had the true conception of forgiveness when he prayed, ‘Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.’ Psalm 51:10. And again he says, ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.’ Psalm 103:12 (Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, p. 114, emphasis supplied).
Salvation is a gift freely offered to all. But there are conditions for receiving salvation. Jesus stated them plainly. “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). “Repent ye, and believe the gospel” (Mark 1:15). Repentance and conversion (new birth) are necessary prerequisites to salvation, not the “fruit” of an already-attained salvation.
I spent my life looking for a short-cut to finding peace with God, some way to escape all temptation, some easy way to “automatically” obey God. But I know now that without genuine repentance and conversion, there can be no salvation. We must choose, once and for all, on which side we will stand. God wants the whole heart and will to be fully surrendered to Him. As we choose to follow His will instead of our own, He fills us with His Spirit.
The concept that sin is a “broken relationship” is totally without Biblical foundation. In fact, sin is the cause of a broken relationship with God. Isaiah 59:2 states that “your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid His face from you, that He will not hear.”
Temptation arising from our fallen nature is not sin. Sin is a choice. Inspiration explains this clearly:
But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death (James 1:14, 15).
By faith and prayer all may meet the requirements of the gospel. No man can be forced to transgress. His own consent must be first gained; the soul must purpose the sinful act before passion can dominate over reason or iniquity triumph over conscience. Temptation, however strong, is never an excuse for sin (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 5, p. 177, emphasis supplied).
There will never be a time this side of glorification that we will no longer be tempted. But temptation is not sin. It is in choosing to yield to temptation that we sin. Jesus came to earth in the same nature that we have, experienced all our temptations, and overcame them through the power given Him by His Father. Now He offers that same power to us. There is no excuse for sin. When we are tempted, we can choose to obey God, rather than to yield to temptation, and at the same moment we choose God’s will, He supplies the power for us to resist sin and be victorious. There can never be victory apart from God, but His Spirit is infinitely stronger than our fallen nature, and with Him to empower us, all things are possible. Truly believing this gives us genuine assurance of salvation. Praise God!
The true gospel teaches that we are saved by the righteousness of Christ, both imputed and imparted. It is never our own righteousness that saves us. The beauty and simplicity of this is that when we surrender ourselves fully to God, He lives out His perfect life in us (Galatians 2:20). Thus the righteousness of Christ covers our past sins (justification) and empowers our present, ongoing life with His perfect life. The entire process is by faith alone—a faith that works (Galatians 5:6; James 2:18-24).
Sanctification is not merely the “fruit” of an already-attained salvation. It is just as important and necessary to our salvation as is justification. “God hath from the beginning chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth” (2 Thessalonians 2:13). Sanctification is part of righteousness by faith (“sanctified by faith”—Acts 26:18). Inspiration makes it clear that God’s people can, and must, live lives of perfect obedience to all God’s requirements through the strength that He alone can supply. This is truly good news. Who wants to hold on to sin, or be held in bondage by it? God offers freedom and true assurance to all who will “obey… the gospel” (2 Thessalonians 1:8; 1 Peter 4:17).
Christ is the sinner’s only hope. By his death he brought salvation within the reach of all. Through his grace all may become loyal subjects of God’s kingdom. Only by his sacrifice could salvation be brought within man’s reach. This sacrifice has made it possible for men and women to fulfil the conditions laid down in the councils of heaven.
Christ came to this earth and lived a life of perfect obedience, that men and women, through his grace, might also live lives of perfect obedience. This is necessary to their salvation. Without holiness no man shall see the Lord.
Before us is held out the wonderful possibility of being like Christ—obedient to all the principles of the law of God. But of ourselves we are utterly powerless to attain to this condition. All that is good in man comes to him through Christ. The holiness that God’s Word declares we must have before we can be saved is the result of the working of divine grace as we bow in submission to the discipline and restraining influence of the Spirit of truth.
Man’s obedience can be made perfect only by the incense of Christ’s righteousness, which fills with divine fragrance every act of true obedience. The part of the Christian is to persevere in overcoming every fault. Constantly he is to pray to the Saviour to heal the disorders of his diseased soul. He has not the wisdom and strength without which he can not overcome. They belong to the Lord, and he bestows them on those who in humiliation and contrition seek him for help (Review and Herald, March 15, 1906, emphasis supplied).
New Friends
God has been good to me. He has brought me into contact with wonderful people who have helped me immensely in my knowledge and Christian experience by their Christ-like example. The positive influence and accountability have been a blessing to me as I seek to bring my life into harmony with the will of God. In the past I would have labeled these people as “legalistic” and “extreme,” but now I see things differently. It is obvious that they love God and are simply seeking to follow Him in all things. And they have proven themselves to be genuine friends by supporting my husband and me with their sympathy, wise counsel, and prayers when we passed through one of the darkest experiences of our lives.
Just a few years ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed that such people would turn out to be the ones with the true gospel—the only one that harmonizes with all of Inspiration. It’s the only gospel that provides true release from guilt, freedom from sin, and authentic assurance of salvation. It is the only one that enables us to reach our goal of being like Christ and helping others prepare for His coming.
Christ is waiting with longing desire for the manifestation of Himself in His church. When the character of Christ shall be perfectly reproduced in His people, then He will come to claim them as His own (Christ’s Object Lessons, p. 69).
The Promise
Sometimes as I look back over my Christian experience, shame and despair threaten to overwhelm me. I was raised in the Seventh-day Adventist Church. I should have been using that advantage all my life to set a good example before the world and to help lead lost souls to Christ. Instead, I spent years mired in spiritual darkness and confusion, blindly following men’s theories when the light of the knowledge of God was just at my fingertips in the Bible and Spirit of Prophecy. I think of all the squandered opportunities and wonder, How will I ever catch up to the place where I should be? How can I ever undo the damage I’ve caused through years of negative influence?
I can’t change my past, but I take comfort in the promise in Joel 2:25, 26. “And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten…. And ye shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, that hath dealt wondrously with you: and my people shall never be ashamed.” These verses are followed by the promise of God’s Spirit being poured out on His people. Then in verse 32 comes this hopeful message. “And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in the remnant whom the Lord shall call.”
God has been gracious to me in spite of how I’ve lived my life. He has never treated me as I deserve to be treated. Instead, because of His goodness and love, I have a Savior who was by my side even when I was angry and resentful toward Him. I know that He will complete the work He began in me. If I cling to Him through repentance and total surrender of my will to His, He can and He will lead me safely home. GCO
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