I camp with friends on an island on the Queensland coast of Australia every year. Last year, among several friends who camped there for a week in the middle of the year were two Adventists. One of these has long been known to several of our group. He spent his time during the camp going for walks with us, listening to our stories, and sharing stories of his own with us.

In the evening, as most of us drank a little too much beer, he stayed with us. He even helped a few of us stagger back to our tents when we were less than able to find our way. He tolerated our slurred speech and increasingly poor table manners. He did not utter any words of judgment but simply displayed consistent exemplary behavior before us. He laughed and joked along with us, yet refrained from engaging in our general coarseness. I know he is an Adventist, although I do not think I have ever heard a word of Adventist doctrine come from his lips. A religious friend of mine once coined the term "living theology" to describe him.

The other Adventist in our group was well-educated but perhaps not quite so inspiring. He was happy to rant eloquently on intricate Seventh-day Adventist doctrine as though we mere atheists or agnostics. He came across as self-opinionated, intellectually superior, and just a plain know-it-all. He criticized my friends for their smoking, drinking, irreverence, and even their taste in music.

I do not know how an "average" Adventist would feel after reading the paragraphs above. I think it is worth my time writing them because I like to be inspired by people with faith (of whatever sort) and there are many days when I have so little of my own. Yet, although I may lack faith, I think I still hold a discerning eye for what is palatable in religion, as well as what is odious and distasteful. I am inspired by living theology; I am nauseated by the intermediate and profane.

Back to my story; I thought I would leave the best to last. I am writing this essay on Easter Friday. I live without a partner after having gone through a rather painful divorce a number of years back. Yet I am fortunate to have a standing invitation to share Easter tomorrow with a colleague who worked with me with some time ago. She and her husband have offered to open their home to me at one of those times during the year when I feel more acutely aware of my loneliness. She is—perhaps you guessed it—an Adventist.

If Adventists wish to inspire us "heathen" types, there is little need to preach. There is likewise little need to demonstrate some warped sense of solidarity by overindulging in raucous behavior and lewdness. Perhaps some of you will think about these things today even if only for a few minutes. Consider that your behavior and actions as seen by outsiders reflect on Adventists and Adventism as a whole. An outsider’s perception of Adventism may be the sum total of only one, two, or three chance interactions across a lifetime.

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