Years ago, when a major mainline denomination was planning to ordain an openly gay bishop, comment was made that while it is one thing to be critical of an abstract concept, such as gay rights, it is much more difficult to be critical of the choices being made by someone you know and admire as a friend and colleague. In such circumstances, principles have a way of getting sacrificed in deference to people, their feelings, and the maintenance of social ties.
The Example of Eli
This appears to have been the problem with the Biblical Eli, whose wicked sons brought spiritual ruin to the Israel of their day and an end to the priestly lineage through their father’s household (I Sam. 2:31). These sons are called in Scripture “sons of Belial” who “knew not the Lord” (verse 12). The Biblical record bears witness to their abuse of the sacrificial service and open practice of sexual immorality in the context of their priestly duties (verses 13-17,22). In time God sent a prophet to rebuke Eli for refusing to discipline his sons, even faulting him for honoring them above the Lord (verse 29). Ellen White, under divine inspiration, helps us understand why Eli failed so miserably in the rearing of his children:
Eli was an indulgent father. Loving peace and ease, he did not exercise his authority to correct the evil habits and passions of his children. . . . The priest and judge of Israel had not been left in darkness as to the duty of restraining and governing the children that God had given to his care. But Eli shrank from this duty, because it involved crossing the will of his sons, and would make it necessary to punish and deny them. Without weighing the terrible consequences that would follow his course, he indulged his children in whatever they desired and neglected the work of fitting them for the service of God and the duties of life [1].
The crisis that arose in Israel because of Eli’s neglect of duty became serious and public, inflicting on the Lord’s cause “an injury which years could not efface” [2]. The inspired narrative describes what happened when the problem rose to the level of emergency, forcing Israel’s permissive leader to finally confront his wicked sons:
The people complained of their violent deeds, and the high priest was grieved and distressed. He dared remain silent no longer. But his sons had been brought up to think of no one but themselves, and now they cared for no one else. They saw the grief of their father, but their hard hearts were not touched. They heard his mild admonitions, but they were not impressed, nor would they change their evil course though warned of the consequences of their sin [3].
The following statement is perhaps most sobering of all, telling us what Eli should in fact have done in the face of his sons’ impiety:
Had Eli dealt justly with his wicked sons, they would have been rejected from the priestly office and punished with death. Dreading thus to bring public disgrace and condemnation upon them, he sustained them in the most sacred positions of trust [4].
It’s not hard to sympathize with Eli here. After all, what father wouldn’t do anything to avoid having to preside over the execution of his own children? But the inspired testimony is clear that this is exactly what Eli should have done, horrific and heart-rending though it surely would have been. (The penalty that would justly have befallen Eli’s sons, had their father acted properly, is described in Deuteronomy 21:17-21.) But the indulgent father couldn’t bring himself to do this, and thus the spiritual degradation he had unleashed, and its ruinous consequences, proceeded unchecked.
The servant of the Lord continues with the following solemn warning to persons in positions of spiritual trust:
Those who have too little courage to reprove wrong, or who through indolence or lack of interest make no earnest effort to purify the family or the church of God, are held accountable for the evil that may result from their neglect of duty. We are just as responsible for evils that we might have checked in others by exercise of parental or pastoral authority as if the acts had been our own [5].
People and Principles
The year after my graduation from college, an article appeared in the college newspaper in the context of the continuing theological uproar caused by the false teachings of Desmond Ford and his fellow travelers relative to salvation, the doctrine of the sanctuary, and the prophetic authority of Ellen White. The article, seeking to address the concerns of those who wanted certain professors held accountable for their teaching of error, was titled, “People are more important than issues.”
The article’s message was problematic for more than one reason, but I well remember the comments of a friend of mine (a fellow theology major) who found the title strange, if only for the reason that he called to mind the millions of martyrs through the ages whose lives and loved ones have been sacrificed for the sake of what some might consider abstract issues. If indeed people are more important than principles, which of the latter could possibly survive the rationalizations that would leap to the fore of one’s mind at a moment when life and death hang in the balance? Why not bend the knee on Dura’s plain, offer the incense, take the sacrament, or utter the words of recantation, if the reward for so doing includes both your own life and those of persons near and dear? Is the acknowledgement of God’s sole right to worship, His sole right to forgive sins, really worth that much?
Conclusion
Most spiritual dilemmas, whether involving social relationships or otherwise, are far less traumatic than those confronted by Eli and those faced with the prospect of martyrdom. But in more than a few such cases, the imperative of keeping Biblical faith and principles intact is challenged by the likelihood of wounded feelings, frayed fellowship, or perhaps the loss of material security. Remaining true to God’s Word sounds simple when left in a vacuum. But in a real life setting, even within the church, Biblical integrity can cost dearly.
As we near the close of time, the challenge of keeping true to the written counsel of God in the face of social, cultural, and institutional pressure will grow ever more daunting. It is now, in comparatively simpler times, that we must hold firm to the Word regardless of the social, material, or professional cost. Whether on a church or school board, a Conference executive committee, at a church business meeting, or on an Internet discussion forum, gracious yet decisive adherence to God’s objective truth must remain supreme above all else. Only in the light of God’s principles, as defined by His written admonitions (Isa. 8:20; Acts 17:11), can people truly find fulfillment and purpose.
REFERENCES
1. Ellen G. White, Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 575.
2. Ibid, p. 577.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid, p. 578.
Pastor Kevin Paulson holds a Bachelor’s degree in theology from Pacific Union College, a Master of Arts in systematic theology from Loma Linda University, and a Master of Divinity from the SDA Theological Seminary at Andrews University. He served the Greater New York Conference of Seventh-day Adventists for ten years as a Bible instructor, evangelist, and local pastor. He writes regularly for Liberty magazine and does script writing for various evangelistic ministries within the denomination. He continues to hold evangelistic and revival meetings throughout the North American Division and beyond, and is a sought-after seminar speaker relative to current issues in the Seventh-day Adventist Church. He presently resides in Berrien Springs, Michigan