IN THE SOCIAL MEDIA SPACES that I frequent, it is not popular to be part of an organized religious institution. This is true, seemingly, even with those who are still recognized as being part of an organized religious institution. Everywhere you turn is a charge of hypocrisy, patriarchy, misogyny, megalomania, homophobia, and theological error. Young pastors chime in frequently on the posts expressing their support for the various views being articulated. All in all, there appears to be among the more vocal North American SDA young people on social media the dominant theme that everything about the church sucks and the best option available is a mass exodus.
I’m not part of such a group.
The following is a short essay on what it was like for me growing up in the Haitian SDA church.
Allow me to clear up a few things before going further. On one hand, I’m not technically an SDA young adult anymore. I haven’t been for some time now. If I recall correctly, the church recognizes that group as those between the ages of 18–35. I haven’t been in that range since 2015. This may be of great shock and dismay to some who probably imagine that I’m in my early 30s (insert winking emoji). In fact, in three years I will be 10 years removed from such a classification. Thus, I am a fully grown SDA adult.
However, in the North American Haitian SDA community, as I’m sure is the case in any space where one is surrounded by those that witnessed their growth and development from the pre-teen era to middle age (or whatever designation feels suitable to you when referring to those in their 40s), I am still considered a young adult. There is somewhat of a reasonable justification in this (or, at least one I’ve come to be comfortable with) in that there is still a good deal of rapport between those in their 30s and 40s. Even 20 years apart generally relates well, I figure if socio-cultural upbringing remains the same.
Second, I will limit this reflection to what I have come to identify as the North American Haitian Seventh-day Adventist Church (NAHSDAC). In a Feb. 1, 2021 post, I further geographically specify this group as being in the northeastern corner of the United States. This is the Adventism that I’ve grown within since 1986 when I migrated here. I was first acquainted with Gethsemane, a church located at 357 Empire Blvd in Brooklyn. I vaguely recall my experience there. In fact, it seems to all have been a blur. I guess three years or so didn’t cement much in my mind at that age.
We then move to Queens and began attending Beraca on 91–19 191st street in 1990. I was 10. Despite visiting other churches, and attending Oakwood University Church for most of 07–09, Beraca remained my home church to this day. I have very fond memories of my experience there.
As can be noted, my spiritual experience did not start here. It started in Ayiti where the grandmother, on my father’s side, served as the primary caretaker prior to my departure. I recall vividly the prayers, the songs, and the opening up of the large Bible that was probably found in every SDA home of that period and generation. I had a special fascination with the Bible because of the pictures that were within it.
At times, I would open it just to jump to where the images were so I can be wowed by the artistry. I gave no thought to the whiteness of Jesus, nor the lack of a black one. Nor did I feel any different by the colors of the other characters. I was just happy with my pictures and wished that I was capable of creating such art. After all, that period consisted of films and images that depicted European-looking bible characters. Today, such a Bible still exists in the home of my parents. But I haven’t felt the need to have it in mine.
I can’t hear my grandmother’s voice. I can’t recall her tone or mannerisms. Nor can I see my grandmother’s face. The fact that it happened, that I experienced a lived past with her, is ingrained in my mind. Attempts to reimagine the scene is met with shadows and semblances. This is not poetry but a reality that we are all too familiar with: when the past has passed, there is nothing left but what you either thought was important and/or what you were capable of grasping.
But I know we had prayer three times a day. These are best understood as worship sessions where the general pattern was probably to begin with a hymn, read a psalm, sing another hymn, and then prayed. Perhaps, like my father has a habit of doing (and like is customary after every church that I’ve ever been in), the prayers were followed by a short hymn.
My experiences with my grandmother form the earliest memories of ever being told about the God of the bible. I don’t remember sermons, preachers, or even the look and feel of the churches I attended there. I just remember my grandmother’s worship sessions. As a result of how she started me off, I had a robust memory of biblical stories. Fast forward to coming to the US to live with my parents, I experienced similar family worship setups. It continues to be my preference to this day.
Family spiritual life involved memorization of psalms. During my early teen years, my mother got us started with memorizing a psalm every day during the summer. We would have a good period during the day to accomplish the task and have to repeat what we’ve learned either that day or the next day. At that time, the general memorization area was the attic. There were some instances where this was made easier due to the years spent hearing some popular psalms being repeated over and over. I would end up pulling from memory reserves of the French version of psalms.
Of course, I eventually matured to the point where sermons and pastors started to have relevance. Like all other listeners, I grew to have speakers that I considered to be favorites. I don’t know why I was drawn to well-written prose and sophisticated concepts in my preference of sermon styles. I can’t explain the origin of that preference. I enjoyed preachers that can make me feel like I’ve come across some great understanding that was of universal significance and that required a good deal of digging and analysis for them to arrive at that point. Again, I don’t know why.
Part of this upbringing involved being shielded from having what I consider to be needless experiences. You see, except for one occasion, we weren’t allowed to have sleepovers or go over to someone else’s house without my parents being present. We had plenty of invitations but it just wasn’t something that my parents saw the need to encourage or agree to. I did not like the fact that we couldn’t at the time. But in retrospect, I’m thankful for that upbringing because of what it possibly saved me from having to experience.
Some don’t make it back from needless experiences. Some did not.
SDA and Non-SDA friends and associates, by the time we got to teenage years, were involved in pre-marital sex, consuming alcohol, and smoking. Some of those I know were also parts of gangs. I don’t see how my being in those environments would have been a benefit. Now, to be fair, we were encountering these things anyway. After all, we were all in the same schools. I know it would not have made a difference even if we were in Adventist school (not that I’m saying Christian schools don’t have necessary benefits).
Pornography was popular. Magazines were being passed around from teen to teen as if they were comic books. Teen girls were spoken of simply as sex objects. We learned all the foul words and watched the same television programs as all the other teens, except, of course, when our parents were around. We were exposed.
But, we had limits. One limitation was due to the spiritual background. The other was the duration of exposure. The teens that we grew up going to church with stuck with what we were taught to various extents. Some did not at all. It remained within my mind that these things were wrong and not ultimately what I wanted to be associated with. That impression never left me. I couldn’t reconcile a life that threw caution to the wind and go on existing as if there was no God out there who had better in mind for me than I had for myself. The thought of God was constant even when I was involved in what I’m not proud of and, today, consider utterly stupid.
So what exactly do I have to complain about concerning growing up in the Haitian SDA church?
Maybe it is because we had to open the Sabbath on Friday evenings at sunset. From that point on there was no television watching. We had worship and it was either we were doing some type of Bible reading, attending some type of Friday night service, or going to bed. We would usually attend a Friday night program that was generally youth-run. This may be an issue for emerging contra-church stances by former pastors and laymen who have picked up a do-away-with-the-law theology. As someone with a good deal of theological schooling and, even better, continues to keep up with developments in the field by reading academic texts, I’m not convinced of the arguments.
Maybe it is because we couldn’t wear jewelry or eat certain types of food. To this day, in my opinion, and observations, NAHSDAC doesn’t consist of a significant amount of members that find it necessary to take up jewelry in the form of chains around their necks, bracelets, or ear and nose piercings. They may do so when they are away from the religious community but not when gathered as how is common in certain North American SDA churches. The most popular form of what is generally considered an ornament that you would see during service on a NAHSDAC member is the wedding ring.
While I don’t personally have a strong stance against ornaments, seeing that it is open to a good deal of scrutiny regarding what should be defined as such (cf. watches, shiny pieces on dresses, etc.), I don’t feel that I’ve missed out on anything by not having worn them. I don’t see the benefit of it. While I agree with those that argue that the popular texts that were used to justify a stance against it were inappropriate, I don’t feel damaged to the extent that I couldn’t reasonably see why I needed to wear it. You can even throw in the ancestral African custom and lifestyle argument and I still don’t regard this as a cause for uproar.
Maybe, perhaps, the church didn’t emphasize love but emphasized a religion of fear. A good deal of sermons and evangelistic crusades contained appeals that weren’t based on a love for God but fear of punishment. That is still prevalent today.
While it can be said that the NAHSDAC members struggle with articulating a message of coming to God because of love as opposed to fear of paying for sins during this lifetime or in everlasting destruction, it is not far-fetched to see that in the wording of the passages a case can be made that destruction will occur in a presence of a Holy God to those who aren’t covered. Now, I can go on and invoke the position of those that find a deity that is all good being incapable of destroying. Even there, it is pretty difficult to argue against the simple position that destruction and violence are all over the place in the Bible.
Maybe it was because of how some adults tended to speak to youth? Well, I don’t see much difference between the churched and un-churched in that regard. I sort of feel like it is personality based. So, yeah. . . no.
I would like some things to be modified in the NAHSDAC. However, leaving the organization will have to be based on theological disagreements with the fundamental beliefs. I was a bible student in my teens and now I’m an adult bible student with a good deal of philosophical and theological experiences and exposure. I’m convinced that this church has a message of love to give to the world.
Again, the church is full of issues. It is not helpful to sugar-coat things simply because we feel that one is doing too much. However, I don’t see how aligning myself to a personal ministry is going to bring me to some greater understanding of God especially when I have substantial theological and exegetical issues with their take on things. Not to mention, the disagreements on methods of interpretation. But that’s for another time.
Notes & References
Atlantic Union’s Young Adult Ministry – “The purpose of the Young Adult ministry is to empower men and women (ages 18-35) for relevant ministry at the different levels of leadership of the church and for extraordinary service to the community.”
Social Justice and North American Haitian Seventh-day Adventism discuss the critique that is often levied against the NAHSDAC concerning its lack of involvement in politics pertaining to social justice.