I was sitting in the back row at Sabbath School at Cowboy Campmeeting, an informal gathering of Adventist equestrians for a long weekend of fellowship and trail riding. At these gatherings I feel a little out of place, wondering how these cowboys and girls would respond if they knew who I really was (an effete intellectual with left-of-center political sympathies and progressive theological notions). My cover is that I'm there as driver and mechanic for my wife's old van and older horse trailer.

My feelings of alienation were dramatically heightened as I listened to the Sabbath School discussion. The teacher was speaking rather critically of progressive ideas (Israel was seduced by idolatry because it seemed progressive). I demurred politely, but my comments didn't make much impression. Two or three other people picked up the anti-progressive theme and lamented progress and modernization in the church.

Paul was the most emphatic: "We would have none of these problems if people would simply quit interpreting the Bible. If they would ask the Holy Spirit to guide them, they would all come to the same right conclusions. There would be no controversy at all. And there would be none of this modern music for the kids. What gets us into trouble is our attempt to interpret the Bible."

I sank into my chair, thinking, I really don't belong here.

At the heart of Adventist fundamentalism is a rock-solid conviction that God has spoken through the Bible-with absolute authority and clarity. And if there is any obscurity, it is perfectly clarified by the inspired commentary of Ellen White. There is no need for humility in asserting my convictions, because they are not "mere opinions." They are the inevitable outgrowth of submitting to the infallible, unambiguous revelation of God. Fundamentalists have no need to learn. They are fully qualified to teach. If you disagree, you are either perverse or stupid. And that applies to you whether you are a "regular person" or a highly educated theologian or scientist.

Paul's diatribe was interrupted by Beth. "I'm tired of hearing people beat up on our kids. Today's kids are no worse than we were." There was fire in her voice. Paul argued with her, but the passion of her speech broke the spell. Dwight asked, "God commanded the Jews to make all kinds of sacrifices, and told them not to wear clothes of mixed fabric. Don't we have to interpret those texts?"

Paul answered, "No we don't. God didn't command all that stuff. Moses did."

Dwight leaned over and whispered to me. "I don't care how many times they tell me two plus two is five, I just can't buy it." I smiled. Maybe I did belong here after all. Dwight was a non-fundamentalist. And so was Beth. And Glen sitting across the circle . . . I knew he was no fundamentalist. Through the weekend I met others-people who are happily Adventist and open to other people and new ideas. Turns out that most of these cowboys and girls were non-fundamentalist Adventists.

Fundamentalists talk like they own the church. They attempt to squeeze everyone else into their mold. And those they can't control, they are willing to eliminate. Their shouting obscures the real facts: non-fundamentalist Adventism is alive and growing-not just at University Church but at Cowboy Campmeeting and in churches across the country. Non-fundamentalists are not a monolithic group. Their departures from historic Adventism take them in all sorts of directions. They argue with each other. What unites them is a common heritage and the grace to honor what God is doing in people who have different convictions and habits-a diversity we work to reflect in the pages of AT Fundamentalists shout. If we don't at least make a commotion, many of our friends will be fooled into thinking the fundamentalists really do own Adventism. So keep making noise. And if you're sitting on the back row, don't wait for someone else to speak up.