Within the past two weeks, a constituent decision has been made to close yet another SDA boarding academy in the North American Division. Another constituency meeting is scheduled for the month of June to make what could well be an identical decision regarding another such academy.
One cannot understate the collective pain and trauma attendant to such decisions. Such choices are never made lightly or without consideration to a host of what are perceived to be compelling factors. But as a child of Seventh-day Adventist Christian education, as one who attended Adventist schools from the elementary to the graduate level, I cannot observe such developments without offering thoughts of my own.
Precious Memories
I attended Monterey Bay Academy in the Central California Conference for my junior and senior years of high school. During those years, according to some reports, MBA was the large boarding academy in the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Far from being afflicted by fears of retrenchment and possible closure, the academy had a waiting list of students who wanted to enroll. Though fraught with missteps and at times vexing challenges, those two years form a cherished and priceless chapter in my spiritual journey.
The first stanza of our school song, “Hail MBA, We Love You,” goes like this:
By the great Pacific Ocean,
Where the waves are white and blue
Lies our own dear school of learning
Where our friends are always true.
In my experience at the academy, I can certainly attest to the truth of these lyrics. The friendships I made during those years were the kind that offered comfort and solace in moments of loss and difficulty, that provided needful inspiration and constructive criticism, and that pointed beyond the storm-swept waves of youth to the eternal realities that give life ultimate meaning.
I could share a host of treasured memories. But a few should suffice. During my junior year I experienced some setbacks in the student political arena, some of which were my own fault. But at one point when I was feeling rather low, a member of the senior class—whom I didn’t even consider a close friend—introduced me to her parents as “one of the leaders of our school this year.” What a tonic to my spirit that was, at a moment when I needed one!
One girl, during testimony time at church, spoke of how the Lord had miraculously kept her shampoo bottle filled when her money was running out and she couldn’t afford even basic necessities. Her words made quite an impact on her fellow students and on visiting parents, one of whom recalled her testimony months later in a conversation with me. It was customary for the pastors to leave time during each worship service for personal testimonies. Those seasons of heartfelt witness became particularly special.
Talking about spiritual things came easily for many of my fellow students during those years. During afterglow following Friday night vespers, some of us would stare at the crystal-clear night sky and see the constellation Orion, which made us recall Ellen White’s statement that the voice of God which turns the captivity of His people before Jesus’ coming will come from the open space there, as will the Holy City at the end of the millennium [1]. We thought of how, in the eternal age to come, our travel through the universe will vastly outpace the speed of light.
The annual alumni weekend was always memorable, as the school’s recent and long-past graduates got together for reminiscences and fellowship. During my junior year, one girl in the senior class who was dating a childhood friend of mine wrote the following regarding that year’s alumni homecoming:
Alumni weekend is both joyous and depressing. Anticipation fills thoughts of seeing old friends, and the magic of reliving old times together. But behind all this happiness their lies the sad knowledge of the oncoming good-byes which must be said.
Heaven will be a constantly happy place. We will re-meet old friends, and we will never again have to go through the agony of saying good-bye. There will soon be a great reunion in heaven. Shall we plan on meeting there?
Along the same lines, one of my teachers wrote in my senior yearbook:
Keep looking up. Christ will soon be here to take His people home. Meet me there.
Years before, I was told that one of the graduating classes made plans to have a special Monterey Bay Academy reunion in heaven, to be held in the southeast corner of the New Jerusalem. We can only pray that the consecration that actuated so many hearts during those tender years will not be lost with the lengthening of time.
Clouds on the Horizon
Those years didn’t lack their checkered moments, of course. Debates over secular political issues caused unnecessary divisiveness. Scars inflicted by school regulations not based on either the Bible or the writings of the Spirit of Prophecy left hurtful recollections and bitterness in their wake. Worst of all, the prevailing spiritual climate of doctrinal indifference and erroneous salvation theology in much of North American Adventism just then, took captive the souls of various faculty and students. One of my Bible teachers, whose name is familiar to many of our readers, would go on to become one of the most notorious modern critics of classic Seventh-day Adventist beliefs.
Once, while running for the office of religious vice-president of the student body, I sat at mealtime with several other potential candidates, and at one point teased them about “challenging them all to a debate” during the coming contest. Though I said it in jest, I was bothered by the response of one or more of those present, who spoke as if there weren’t any issues to debate. Even at that tender age, I could discern the clouds on the church’s horizon whose storms would shatter the false security sought by so many. I lamented that few if any of my peers could perceive these challenges.
But the warmth and joy I found at the academy overshadowed the warning signs, troubling though the latter were. I wish only that the passionate spirituality among my peers could have been harnessed by an unequivocal affirmation of the distinctive Seventh-ay Adventist message, as the church has lately seen in such phenomena as the GYC movement. Notes left in my yearbooks from those years are still precious to me, and more than a few times in recent years I have gone back to read them. Graduation weekends were especially emotional, with many tears shed and fond remembrances recalled. One friend in the class ahead of me was noted for writing in the yearbooks of his friends, “It will never be the same again.” None could doubt the poignant truthfulness of these words.
Strength in Numbers
In the recent announcements regarding academy closings, it has been said that parents want to “parent longer,” rather than to send their children away to boarding school. This is understandable, especially as the world grows more chaotic and unpredictable in its challenges and allurements. But the most decisive years of parenting are not a child’s teen years, but long before. (The Jesuits have said with considerable truth, “Give us a child for his first seven years, and after that you can have him; he’ll be a Catholic for life.”) If the hearts of the young are anchored to God and His Word in childhood, the chance of departure from those moorings is significantly less. The words of the wise man still ring true:
Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it (Prov. 22J.
Many fail to consider the strength in numbers that accrues from God’s people gathering together, whether in institutional or other settings. In the modern prophet’s words:
The convocations of the church, as in camp meetings, the assemblies of the home church, and all occasions where there is personal labor for souls, are God’s appointed opportunities for giving the early and the latter rain [2].
Keeping one’s children at home longer is certainly an attractive option. But when our schools do God’s bidding and adhere to the divine blueprint in their governing policies and practices, God can give the young an experience in such a context that is less likely to be facilitated in isolation.
The Real Issue
And therein lies the key.
Many parents today are less inclined to send their children to our denominational schools because they perceive the loss of doctrinal and moral integrity that has come over so many of these institutions. Homeschooling, cited in the recent reports of academy closings as one principal reason for the present crisis in Adventist secondary education, is often the resort of parents for whom the spiritual decline of our schools is sufficiently regrettable to cause them to doubt the wisdom of the financial sacrifice required to send their sons and daughters there.
One father wrote some years ago, in the context of the controversy at one of our universities over the teaching of evolution, that he had always told his children that the two basic reasons for Adventist education were (1) to learn the teachings and practical admonitions of our faith; and (2) to find an Adventist mate. He went on to say that with the loss of the first objective, “all I’m left with is an expensive dating service.” (While the thoughts of such parents are understandable, the option of sending children to a non-Adventist school is still considerably less desirable than the alternative, not the least reason for which is the greater likelihood in a non-Adventist setting of forming intimate relationships which can easily lead to forbidden marriages.)
Not all North American Adventist academies are facing crisis or closure. Some, in fact, are doing quite well. And those that are doing well, those with which I am familiar, have a reputation for faithfulness to the teachings of the Seventh-day Adventist Church. If those responsible for the guidance of our schools were to make a wholehearted commitment to the Bible, the writings of the Spirit of Prophecy, and the mission of the church, my guess is that Adventist parents throughout the country and beyond would likely send their children to these schools, regardless of tuition costs.
When I was pastoring a small church in upstate New York a few years ago, we needed $10,000 to repair the roof, replace the siding, rebuild our back porch, and get a new church sign. Forgive my candor, but that church had to have been one of the ugliest on the outside that I had ever seen—paint peeling off the walls and steeple, the back porch crumbling, and the church sign out front fit for someone’s fireplace.
One Sabbath morning I made an appeal to the ten-plus active members. I reminded them of how the Lord will provide when we consecrate ourselves to Him, how the revival and reformation that followed the golden calf apostasy at Mount Sinai made the Israelites so generous in their offerings for the tabernacle that Moses had to tell them to stop giving (Ex. 36:3-7). I told the few gathered before me that Sabbath that the Lord could do the same for us if we made the needful commitment.
And so He did. Just as we were getting ready to start the divine service, a little old lady (now deceased) pulled me aside, and whispered in my ear, “I’ll give you the $10,000.” I was shocked, and asked the dear sister, “Are you sure you want to do this?” She replied, “God has been good to me, and I have to give it back.”
Come to that church today, any of you who happen to visit there, and you’ll see a beautiful church building with new siding, a new back porch, and a new sign out front. The Lord came to our aid in our time of need.
I believe our Conference leaders, pastors, and others, if they return without qualification to the teachings of Scripture and the writings of Ellen White, and covenant before God to operate our academies along these divinely-authorized plans, that we would find ourselves opening new schools rather than contemplating the closure of those we have. Many forget that Adventists were able, even during the Great Depression, to open new academies and draw our young people there. It can happen again. We simply need a level of dedication to our original faith higher than has yet been seen in our ranks.
Conclusion: Is Closing Schools the Answer?
Is closing schools the solution to the present challenges of Adventist education? I believe there is a better way, and that leaders and laity alike should devote themselves to the recovery of that way, and the multi-generational revival and reformation this will require from all of us.
REFERENCES
1. Ellen G. White, Early Writings, p. 41.
2. ----Testimonies to Ministers, p. 508.
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