The Confessing Seventh-day Adventist

1. Second Century Gnosticism
2. Medieval Moral Influence Theory
3. The New Age Interpretation of the Cross

There is much friendship talk in the Bible, but there is much legal talk too, isn't there? Much servant talk. Isn't it true that sin is breaking the law? And the just penalty for breaking the law is death. See, God's minimum penalty is death. If He were running the highway patrol, and you were caught breaking the speed limit, the penalty would be death. That is His minimum penalty. You steal a cookie—death. Speak a cross word—death. Right there one begins to feel uncomfortable, but this person proceeds stoutly on and says, Didn't Jesus die to pay that penalty? So isn't the legal model of the plan of salvation correct? Justice requires this. The law requires this.

Well, what should we do about all of that talk? One suggestion. What is this death that is the penalty for sin? That is what we call the second death. And what's so terrible about that is there is no resurrection. That death is eternal. Did Jesus pay that death? Well, did He stay dead for eternity? He rose on Sunday. And He went up to heaven, and He said, Was it enough? And they said, No, you are not supposed to have done this. Get back down and we won't tell anyone we saw you out. You are supposed to stay in the grave forever. —The Serpent Speaks, p. 12.

John Harvey Kellogg wrote:The idea that God inflicts pain, or that pain is in any sense an arbitrary or retributive punishment, is a notion altogether foreign to a proper conception of God. – The Living Temple, p. 441.

The death that results from sin is not an imposed penalty. – A. Graham Maxwell

An earnest seeker for truth, Enquiry was his name, was wandering through a certain country, looking for sign-posts along the way. In the midst of a desert, he saw afar off a man seated on a rock with his head in his hands. "Maybe this man can direct me to some more fertile place," thought he to himself and hastened towards him.

"Good-day friend. My name's Enquiry, and I am seeking for the garment which will protect me in the coming earthquake. Can you help me?"

The man seated on the rock, Confused was his name, sighed deeply and wrung his hands.

"I wish I could, sir, but I need help myself. For I too have heard that there's an earthquake coming. They say that it's already rumbling, and folks round here are afraid that the whole town will be destroyed."

As they trudged south, they came to a place called Pretty Hill, and seeing a light, thought to ask for rest that night. They approached timidly, fearing that they might be turned away, but were warmly greeted from afar off by two figures on the porch who greeted them most cordially, and welcomed them like brothers.

Tender-heart: "Our names are Love-alone and Tender-heart. There are no words used in this house such as blood, or wrath, or penalty, or punish, or propitiate. We teach that the architect can be trusted."

Enquiry and Confused found the hosts most congenial, the stay most comfortable, the beds soft and the food easy to digest. And as they talked together, Confused especially felt at ease, for he had often been told that the architect was a stern judge, ready to throw a ton of bricks at all who displease him. Thus he had grown up afraid of him. But Enquiry grew very quiet and thoughtful, and caused Confused to ask if all was well.

Enquiry: "It seems to me that I could not really trust a God who took evil lightly and did not punish those who murdered, stole and dealt unjustly. The blueprint speaks with those words of which you do not approve."

Love-alone: "But those words are mere figures of speech. For though the blueprint speaks of judgment—such judgment men bring on themselves. They reap what they sow. The architect himself does not act out in judgment, because he is love and cannot act against himself. As for wrath—it is merely that the architect gives up on men, when after much patient coaxing, he cannot win them. And blood and penalty! Did the son of the architect have to die to 'pay for our sins'? We say not. It was to show that he loved us so much that he would die to prove it.

David McMahon wrote:The most remarkable revival of Waggonerian-like views on the atonement has taken place in the Division of Religion at Loma Linda University. In this department are those who repudiate the historic Christian doctrine of the substitutionary atonement in order to embrace "the moral influence theory." In fact, the moral influence theory has widely permeated West-Coast American Adventism. It has such a stranglehold on the church's principal financial base that the leaders of the church appear paralyzed and frightened to touch it.

A. Graham Maxwell's recent denominational book of the year, Can God Be Trusted? is conspicuous for what it omits in discussing the atonement. The chapter, "Why Did Jesus Have to Die?" should be compared with an article of similar title written by Waggoner in the British Present Truth of September 21, 1893. [3]

Samuele Bacchiocchi wrote:Adventists are not exempted from the controversy over the reason for Christ’s death. As mentioned in the April 2004 issue of REFLECTIONS—the monthly newsletter published by the Biblical Research Institute of the General Conference for church leaders and scholars­— “the idea of a substitutionary sacrifice of Christ is rejected by some Adventists and replaced by the so-called moral influence theory.” An example of the latter is the book Can God Be Trusted? by Graham Maxwell. [4]

Colin Standish wrote:The Moral Influence theory and its associated claim that God does not destroy, has swept not only through certain academic areas of our church (for example, Loma Linda University) but also among a few self-supporting workers.

At the Sanctuary conference held at Andrews University, 1997, Dr. Woodrow Whidden, Professor of Religion at Andrews University, made a stirring attack upon the manifest error that God does not destroy. [5]