Strange as it sounds after all we've been discussing, Seventh-day Adventists actually gave themselves a name four years before the October morning in 1860 when David Hewitt proposed "Seventh-day Adventist." They did so in October, 1856; and they took it right out of the Bible. The story has a direct bearing on Seventh-day Adventists today.
From the very beginning, as we have observed, Sabbath-keeping Adventists saw themselves as a people with a purpose, a movement of destiny. Believing, from experience and prophecy, that they had the present truth for the last days, they reasonably concluded that they were the true church for the last days. They were spiritual Israel in a modern wilderness, marching from the Egypt of "Babylon" to the new world at the second coming, restoring the true Sabbath on the way as did ancient Israel at Mount Sinai. They were the prophet Elijah, whom Malachi promised "before the great and dreadful day of the Lord," restoring loyalty to God's law on the Carmel of apostate Christendom. They were the sixth church of Revelation, "Philadelphia," the church of brotherly love.
It was a heady concept. Letters to the Review from scattered laity reiterated a litany of praise for the clear light of truth. In those bygone times a great many Americans felt that they ought to keep a holy day, even though most of them didn't do it. Once prejudice against disappointed Adventism faded, converts flocked in. James White estimated enthusiastically that membership rocketed from a handful to perhaps 2000 in the first two years of the 1850s. [1]
We learned about this growth in chapter 17. Now we need to examine the spiritual loss associated with this gain. "It is evident," James White editorialized a few years later, "that with the increase of numbers ... there was not a corresponding increase in consecration or in the graces of the Spirit." [2]
Even some ordained ministers dropped out to take up farming, Washington Morse and Horace Lawrence among them. Encouraged by the materialism of some of their leaders, many members minded their business affairs and ignored, or grew suspicious of, one another. Companies raised up by evangelists tended to melt away. Tracts and booklets at the Review office piled up by the thousands for want of anyone to distribute them. The press was heavily in debt, and few members seemed to care. No one committed murder or robbed a bank! But as a people preparing for translation and professing to keep one full day a week holy, they were in sorry shape.
Unintentionally James White himself was partly to blame! Stung by criticism that the doctrines he taught were the product of his wife's imagination, he virtually closed the columns of the Review to her pen. His purpose was noble enough. He wanted potential believers to recognize that Sabbath, sanctuary, and sleep of the dead were Bible doctrines. But inadequately appreciated, Ellen White's visions became less frequent, and the church was largely deprived of her deep spiritual appeals.
After the move from Rochester to Battle Creek, the local folk called a conference in their tiny "House of Prayer" and earnestly confessed their sin in this matter. They put their names to a confession for the Review and voted to underwrite the cost of publishing Ellen White's current counsel. In this way there came into being the first of the published testimonies, Testimony for the Church, no. 1. It appeared late in 1855 as a sixteen-page pamphlet--joined over the next half century by thirty-six other testimonies, bound today in nine familiar volumes.
Now, in the book of Revelation John was directed to write a letter to each of seven churches representing seven phases or seven periods of Christian experience from his day to the second coming. The Millerites aptly regarded the sixth or "Philadelphia" church of brotherly love as a symbol of their own movement. After the disappointment, Millerites who accepted the Sabbath and sanctuary doctrines enjoyed such a warm Christian fellowship that they continued to regard themselves as Philadelphia--and spoke of the other Adventists as "Laodicea," the seventh church. [3] The words, "lukewarm" and "I am rich, ... and have need of nothing," seemed to fit people who thought they could get along without the Sabbath and the spirit of prophecy.
But as spirituality declined markedly in their own ranks, the more earnest believers felt that "Philadelphia" was less and less deserved by Sabbath keepers. Here and there thoughtful families discussed the uncomfortable possibility that they themselves were Laodicean.
Near the end of Testimony no. 1, Mrs. White pressed her appeal home with phrases actually taken from the Laodicean message. [4] Unfortunately her words, though appreciated, accomplished little at the time. In May 1856 she wrote out a vision about the sin of Adventist families' conforming to the world. After hearing it read, the Battle Creek believers voted unanimously to publish it, and by August was in the mail as Testimony for the Church, no. 2. It confirmed the concern of the conscientious, but like the first testimony, it had limited immediate results.
The breakthrough came in October (remember this month), when James White launched a closely reasoned series or articles in the Review showing convincingly from the Bible that Sabbath-keeping Adventists, the last church for the last days, composed beyond a doubt the seventh church of Revelation, the lukewarm self-satisfied church of Laodicea. [5]
Here was a name for the growing child!
Here, too, was Bible evidence that confirmed their own fears and Ellen White's visions. And the response was truly heartwarming. With a subscription list below 2000, the Review received more than 300 letters over the next few months, thanking Elder White for speaking out and expressing humility and rededication. A genuine revival began and many victories were achieved.
Ellen White's role in this renewal was significant. Her testimonies paved the way for it. And as she traveled with her husband, visions came, adapting the Laodicean message to local needs. In Waukon--where, you remember, the Whites visited in December that year--the Laodicean picture of Jesus knocking on the door led Mary Loughborough to cry out with tears, "I open the door of my heart. Lord Jesus, come in."
Two testimonies in 1857 further confirmed Elder White's presentation. After a vision, Ellen White reported that she had been shown the piles of "rubbish" that people needed to remove from the doors of their hearts--differences with their brethren, love of material things, extravagance in their style of living, evil tempers, and so on. Her attention was also called to the promises to Laodicea. "How precious was this promise," she exclaimed, "as it was shown to me in vision! 'I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.' " [6]
In truth the letter to Laodicea is rich with promises and also with the presence of Jesus Christ. It is Jesus who introduces Himself as the "true witness" and tells the self-deceived Laodiceans their true condition. Jesus says that they are lukewarm. Jesus says they need gold, white raiment, and eyesalve. Jesus, the "heavenly salesman," knocks on the door with these things for sale. Jesus offers to come in and dine with us. And Jesus, at the end, promises that every overcomer will "sit with me in my throne."
But there is something we must do. We must open the door. Jesus would never invade our privacy without our permission. And we must "buy" what He has for sale. We may buy Christ's righteousness "without money and without price" (Isaiah 55:1); but no one can be Christ's disciple unless he forsakes everything he has. (Luke 14:33)
In the second vision, Ellen White saw two groups of Sabbath keepers responding to the message in two different ways. One group was indifferent and careless. "The angels of God left these." The other group was accepting it. Eagerly they cleared away the rubbish--but not in their own strength; they agonized in prayer for God's strength. And they obtained the victory! Overcoming criticism, selfishness, and suspicion, they marched in perfect order, organized like an army. They were filled with the latter rain. They witnessed to the world with phenomenal success; and they soon welcomed Christ at His second coming. [7]
What a glorious opportunity!
And it was partially realized.
As they met in their kitchens, barns, and little churches, Sabbath keepers confessed hard feelings and sought forgiveness. Parents and children discussed misunderstandings with a new openness and ended their alienation. In faith, people ventured new sacrifices, till the heavy debt at the publishing office was turned into a reassuring surplus. The rate of baptisms picked up. The whole movement seemed characterized by wet cheeks and radiant faces, as repentant Laodiceans surrendered to the Lord, rejoiced in a new way of life, and daily anticipated the latter rain.
Letting Jesus into the heart is the same as receiving the Holy Spirit, for the Holy Spirit is Christ's personal representative. When people bring "Christ" all the way into every facet of their lives, the Holy Spirit fills them, preparing them for the latter rain.
This appearance of movement-wide repentance is not wholly correct. Many members remained indifferent. Others asked, "Why don't Brother and Sister So-and-so change their way of life?"
Ohers insisted on their independence and refused to trust leadership. The latter rain tarried. And even the more earnest ones, having made a few things right, felt that they had done enough.
A vision on July 15, 1859 (again please notice the date), revealed what had gone wrong. "As they failed to see the powerful work accomplished in a short time, many lost the effect of the message."
Mrs. White commented: "I saw that this message would not accomplish its work in a few short months." [8]
It seems that God purposely waited for the excitement to wear down in order to allow His people to act on principle rather than feeling. This is how God always works, Ellen White explained: "Lest his people should be deceived in regard to themselves, He gives them time for the excitement to wear off, and then proves them to see if they will obey the counsel of the True Witness." [9]
Evidently the work needed to make Adventists ready for the latter rain in the 1850s was not to be accomplished in a single all-night prayer service, or in several weeks of spiritual devotion, or even in li "a few short months." Heartfelt seeking of the Lord was needed over a more extended period of time until character matured on bright new heights.
But if adequate reformation required more than a few short months, were many years needed before the latter rain could fall?
In the testimony just cited, these electric words also appear, "God has given the message time to do its work."
It was July 1859 when Ellen White wrote these words, less than three years after the Laodicean message first came to Sabbath-keeping Adventists. Is it possible? Does it really mean that before July 1859 God's loving erring followers could have, by His grace, removed all the rubbish from their lives, obtained the victory, been filled with the Spirit like on the day of Pentecost, and been on their way to witness with phenomenal success to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people? Before July 1859?
Notes: