Putting the Pieces Together

ETHAN WERK | Contributor |

I remember one Sabbath morning, I noticed the sign outside our church that stated Seventh-day Adventist Church. I was somewhat confused and curious because I was always under the impression that we were Christians, so why was the word “Christian” absent from the sign? I asked my mom about it, and she said that “Adventist” and “Christian” basically mean the same thing. I must have been seven years old, but I can still clearly recall that memory which makes me laugh knowing what I know now.

My name is Ethan Werk. I am 21 years old, and I was born and grew up in Riverside, California. As far back as I can remember, I have been a Christian, but my family’s church history tells a slightly different story.

I grew up in the Seventh-day Adventist Church alongside my older brother Austin and younger sister Megan, but the doctrine isn’t the main thing I remember. Looking back, I mainly recall my anticipation for my dad to cook my favorite meal of the week once we returned home from Sabbath services. 

I was just a kid and didn’t think very deeply about the significance of Jesus’ life and death or about the Bible. Church was a place I went because my family went, and my favorite parts of it were the things any kid likes, playing with friends and eating good food.

I also remember only being able to watch Bible story movies and VeggieTales on Sabbath, which began Friday at sunset and lasted until the following sunset on Saturday evening. Other things I remember included spending time with my friends from the church as well as some of the church events we attended which imprinted themselves on my mind because of the food. I loved the potlucks with their amazing mac and cheese, and the annual October Trunk or Treat events in the church parking lot which live in my mind because we loaded up with candy.

As you might be able to tell from these small details, I was just a kid and didn’t think very deeply about the significance of Jesus’ life and death or about the Bible. Church was a place I went because my family went, and my favorite parts of it were the things any kid likes, playing with friends and eating good food.

Though I can’t exactly recall when, I was about eleven or twelve when my dad slowly stopped attending church with us. With that being said, he had church duties working the sound system. Since he didn’t commonly sit with us because he was usually in the sound booth, not much felt different for me. The biggest difference I noticed was in my mom, who was sad more often and seemed upset at my dad constantly. I truly couldn’t figure out the reason, although there was one night that allowed me to piece together that it had something to do with a conflict of religion.

Where Was Adam?

There was one evening which I won’t forget for as long as I live due to its simplicity, yet its deeply complex implications. In fact, I believe it holds extremely deep significance for everyone in my family. 

My dad called my siblings and me into his room and asked us a very simple question: “Where was Adam when Eve ate the fruit in the Garden of Eden?”

“That’s simple enough,” I remember thinking. In Sabbath school, I had watched a video of Eve speaking to the serpent alone and eating the fruit before finding Adam collecting other fruit and telling him what had happened. He then ate the fruit because he couldn’t imagine his life without her, and the rest was history. Naturally, my brother and sister agreed that Adam was not with Eve,

But my dad asserted that Adam was with Eve. Of course, none of us believed him. After all, the television showed us that they weren’t together, so it must be true—right?

My dad then challenged us to gather every single version of the Bible we could find. We ran all throughout the house and collected them before opening to Genesis 3:6, and I was perplexed.

As stated in the ESV,

“So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate.”

The phrase “who was with her” jumped out at us. Not only that, but in every single translation of the Bible we had, Scripture said that Adam was with her when she ate the fruit!

Even the Adventist’s favorite, the King James Bible, states that she “gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat.”

What did this mean?

For little me, it meant that my dad had a point, and my mother was freaking out over nothing.

More time passed, and not much changed. My mother brought us along to church, and my dad stayed at home, as my mom would say, “in the same spot as when we left.” That is—until one Sunday morning when my dad asked if we wanted some donuts.

As has been mentioned, I’m a sucker for food, so we went with him to get donuts. What I was not told was where we would be getting the donuts.

We ended up in the lobby of a hotel in the Redlands/Loma Linda area and, without realizing it, my dad had convinced my mom to attend a church on a Sunday. The unthinkable had happened!

This event wasn’t a huge deal to me as I got my donut and went about my day, but it would lead to long weekends of choosing to go to church on Saturday OR Sunday, and sometimes both.

There were many debates over the topic of the importance of the Sabbath, to which my dad would always rebut with his new favorite phrase: “It’s not about you.”

My mom always wanted to attend a Bible study, so when the opportunity presented itself, on Friday evenings no less, we all began attending, but I always found myself talking with the other kids there, joking around, or playing video games. I would rarely pay attention. After all, the adults were talking, and a kid like me didn’t pay attention in such a serious setting that appeared to be for them rather than me.

Changes

Given more time, we would end up leaving the Adventist church and attending a new church, but I felt mostly unaffected by the change. In my mind, the worst part about leaving the Adventist church was leaving the friends I had made there, and though I would come to make new friends quickly, I was sad to leave my old ones. This loss may also be part of why I initially avoided taking part in the kids’ group after the church service—but that wasn’t the only reason.

While I saw being Christian as important, it wasn’t a priority in my life. Nobody is perfect (which is amazing when you actually think about it), but that imperfection also caused a problem in my life.

I’ve always striven to do not just my best, but the best. In grade school, I managed to do exceptionally well, and when we started getting letter grades, my lowest grade ever was a singleB+. Even in the difficult honors and advanced classes I took, I somehow managed to slide by, passing each test for college credit that I took. I used to think I excelled because I felt it was expected of me, but I didn’t realize how much value I placed on my own performance. I took pride in my work and in the fact that I was able to do so well with such little effort.

What I hadn’t realized was that this mentality began to take over my life. I gained the expectation that I should be able to achieve things without trying very hard or challenging myself because I was so used to having easy successes. Since many things seemed to come naturally to me, my expectation of achieving easy success would cause an impossible expectation of being perfect at everything I did.

This expectation of my own perfection became an issue when I started to really think about religion. While I didn’t think my time in Adventism had much of an effect on my understanding of the Bible, I found myself doubting and questioning small things for years afterwards.

This expectation of my own perfection became an issue when I started to really think about religion. While I didn’t think my time in Adventism had much of an effect on my understanding of the Bible, I found myself doubting and questioning small things for years afterwards.

One such example was the account of pre-creation that states a third of the angels left heaven with Lucifer prior to the book of Genesis. This detail clearly is not a part of the Bible, so why did I continue to think it was true?

What I hadn’t realized was that what I was referring to did not come from the Bible, but a “prophetess” by the name of Ellen White. If we understand the Bible to be God’s word, all of it must be true. As clearly stated in both the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy 4:2 and the New Testament book of Revelation 22:18-19, no one should add to or take away from the Word, so how could both the Bible and Ellen White be true?

The simple answer is that they cannot.

After leaving Adventism, I thought I had to be a perfect Christian—after all, I felt perfection was expected of me. However, this thought scared me because I knew it was impossible, so I put it on the back burner. After all, if I didn’t acknowledge my religious hurdles and doubts, they couldn’t hurt me. Although ignoring my internal conflict didn’t mean that I stopped identifying as a Christian, I didn’t feel like I was living like one.

If anyone asked, I would say I was, but I never read my Bible and, though I would seek knowledge of God, it felt trivial. I had heard the stories before, and I knew that Jesus died for my sins so that I can go to heaven. It was repeated so often that I felt like they were just words being said. I could say I believed it, but it didn’t have any bearing or impact on my life. It was just something I believed I knew to be true. The best way I can describe it is that it felt as though my heart had been hardened. Although I knew I should feel very strongly about this, it had little effect on me.

I Suddenly See

When I began attending California Baptist University in the fall of 2024, I eagerly anticipated a learning environment where I would be surrounded with fellow Christians and be able to truly take my religion seriously—and for a time, I did. During the starting days and events, I asked questions. I prayed more, and honestly I felt as though my heart had been opened up. In the first few weeks, I continued in this manner, but of course nothing goes according to our plans.

I lost track of what truly mattered and got caught up in meeting new friends and focusing on my homework and classes. I met with one of the leaders of Spiritual Life, an on-campus service to help provide guidance in faith, but I felt like I was being told what I already knew. I would also occasionally attend some of the many Bible studies held around campus with friends, but I could never find a place that felt right. I took biblical classes and learned a lot about the contents of the Bible, but it all felt like head knowledge or random trivia. I even began working for the school magazine, writing stories from a Christian perspective despite ignoring much of my own growth. I had a lot of knowledge on the topic which allowed me to put pieces together for a story, but I couldn’t put them together in my life.

Before I knew it, two years had flown by, and I had barely any spiritual growth. I had spent enough time thinking to understand I believe God exists and why I believe Christianity is true, but I just couldn’t figure out why it didn’t feel important to me.

Everyone seems to be searching for their “aha moment” when something finally clicks and everything seems to perfectly fall into place. Though I feel it’s happened multiple times, I think I’m finally beginning to understand that true faith is not just about having a single moment, it’s about putting the pieces together.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m a perfectionist, and I wanted to be “perfect” in my religion although I knew it was not possible. In conversation, I told my brother that I hadn’t been baptized yet because I thought there was an order to things and I should be a more diligent Christian before being baptized because I didn’t feel like I deserved it—but, he argued, that imperfection was part of the point. The point of baptism wasn’t to be perfect afterwards or to never sin again, but to live life as a follower of and believer in Jesus Christ. His explanation, however, still did not convince me, and I could not understand what everyone else saw that I couldn’t.

…our teacher had shared that someone close to her had to confess his sin to God that week. This struck me because, from my view, he was an extremely godly man, perfect and unwavering in faith.

One random week, I had spent some days reflecting on faith and attended our weekly young adults gathering. I can’t recall what passage we were talking about, but two details from that day stuck with me. One was that our teacher had shared that someone close to her had to confess his sin to God that week. This struck me because, from my view, he was an extremely godly man, perfect and unwavering in faith. What I realized was that if someone like that could still stumble, how could I do any better.

Though I “knew” the biblical example of David, a man after God’s own heart who nevertheless sinned with Bathsheba, this was different. The Bible gives examples of imperfect men to show the perfection of God as well as our own imperfections, but to me, they’re just people who lived a really long time ago. This was someone I personally knew, a fact which made it feel much more real.

A bit later, another lady shared a story about one of her friends and shared the moral of that story to be along the lines of, “We focus too much on our faith and not the object of it.”

Immediately my brother turned to me and quoted my dad’s famous line, “Because it’s not about you.” 

Time froze. I understood what they meant. I was so focused on MY sin, on MY faith, on MY imperfections that I wasn’t focused on what mattered. The fact is that there is an all-powerful, all-knowing God who exists and loves infinitely. It is something too great for us to comprehend, and in that moment I was struck with the understanding that I was so focused on my imperfections, I never stopped to think about how He is perfect in all ways.

Regardless of how many bits of information you have, they are useless if they don’t come together to form a picture. When the pieces fall into place, it starts to make sense. Even today I find myself mistakenly placing my focus on my faith rather than God, but I understand now that this is only the beginning in my lifelong journey to trust and follow Him—the One who knew me before I was and will be with me even when I have passed on from this world. †

---

Ethan Werk is 21 years old and was both born and grew up in Riverside, California. He is studying at California Baptist University to earn a Bachelors of Science in Electrical Engineering as well as taking classes to learn more about Philosophy and Christian Studies. Although he grew up Seventh-day Adventist, his father led his family out of it in his early teen years and they have been attending Redeemer Fellowship in Loma Linda ever since. He enjoys asking difficult questions to gain a deeper understanding of things which is reflected in the topics he chooses to write about.