BY ROY ADAMS

DREAMED OF A CITY CALLED GLORY . . ."

The song came at the end of my message, "God's Tomorrow," and there was electricity in the air the moment Pastor Garvin Paul stood to sing it. My favorite song (and sung by special request), it apparently was also a favorite of thousands in the audience. But it was the lady high up in the stands who took my attention. Unable to remain in her seat from the sound of the very first note, she was on her feet all through the piece, her hands raised in praise, her body language giving every evidence of someone longing to go home.

The place was St. George's, the Grenadian capital; and the occasion, the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the beginning of Seventh-day Adventism on the island. It had been raining off and on in the run-up to the weekend, but Sabbath morning dawned bright and clear; and the people, in their Sabbath best, came in by the thousands—5,000 plus by some estimates, fully half the membership in the tri-island conference (comprising Grenada, Carriacou, and Petit Martinique). They packed the cricket stadium of the island's sports complex.

Centered around the theme "Celebrating the Past, Facing the Future With Confidence," the nine-day centenary observances had begun Sabbath, July 10, with special praise and thanksgiving services in the various churches throughout the conference. And almost every day of the following week would feature some activity connected with the event, including open-air meetings; a national concert; radio and television programs; literature distribution; food sharing; and a national exhibition and health fair promoting the Adventist lifestyle, with health professionals providing free blood tests, hypertension screening, and other health-related services for the general public. International lifestyle enhancement educator Neals Chitan from Canada was also on hand to conduct youth forums at two prominent government schools on the island, tackling issues of underachievement, low self-esteem, anger management, and crime and violence prevention.

The hectic activities of the week now behind them, church leaders and members came together for that final conference-wide Sabbath convention July 17 at the National Stadium, with the country's prime minister, Dr. the Rt. Hon. Keith Mitchell (and other high officials of government) in attendance. (Unlike many other political representatives who show up at Adventist gatherings, they all stayed for the entire service.) It was truly a morning of joy and celebration.

How the Work Got Started
We've all seen these anniversary celebrations; and if you're like me, you dread the long recitations of "how it all began," with lists of dates a mile long. But in this case, rather than rehearsing interminable historical particulars about the inception of the Adventist work on the island, the organizers chose instead to dramatize it—which made all the difference in the world. With abundant energy and belly-pumping humor couched in the colorful local vernacular, participants depicted the arrival in 1892 of American missionaries Dexter A. Ball and William Arnold to distribute Adventist literature. And as they acted out how Warren G. Kneeland and W. A. Sweany would follow them in 1904 to establish Grenada's first Adventist church at Mount Rose (on the island's northern end), they carried the entire audience with them. It was from Mount Rose that the Adventist work spread to the rest of the territory.

Like everywhere else, the effort in Grenada started small. Even when I was baptized in St. George's in the 1950s, we had just one Adventist pastor for the entire island, a saint of a man named George Reilly, a hero to all of us who knew him. What a treat when, after he'd made the rounds of the various churches, it was our turn—our privilege—to have him back in the capital city church on Lucas Street for the service! Those were good days (with Sister Reilly—his wife, Sister Granger, the Robertses, Sister McDonald, the Haineses, the Maitlands, Sister Davidson, the Alsopps, the Andrewses, the Ogilvies, the Bonapartes). Such names mean nothing to most readers, I know; but like Paul in Romans 16, I feel compelled to mention them—in honor and respect.

Yes, there was just one pastor—and not even an assistant—for the entire island, a condition that prevailed up to 1970. Today that same territory (with its sister islands) has become a conference—with a president, executive secretary, treasurer, departmental leaders, office staff, and some 13 pastors! Now, there's a story for you! Said conference executive secretary Christopher Williams: "We have grown in membership from 20 in 1904 to 10,551 as of June 2004, a ratio of 1:10 [in relation to the general population]. In 1904 Adventists worshipped in a small hut; today we worship in 41 congregations, and in buildings that bring honor and glory to God."

Alas, however, that last remark could not anticipate what would happen in September, when Hurricane Ivan, following on the heels of Earl by just days, would slam across the island, leaving death and destruction in its wake.

With the Fury of Hell
A category 4 hurricane at the time, Ivan charged into the region, flattening the island; killing at least 62 (including at least two Adventists); and damaging, according to the nation's prime minister, 90 percent of the homes in the country, plus many other buildings, including half of the 37 churches Pastor Williams' statement had in mind. Indeed, as you may have seen in the Newsbreak item we ran (Adventist Review, October 7 NAD Edition), the conference office itself sustained significant damage when the roof of a nearby building landed on it.

Grenada was hit the hardest of the tri-island territory. However, in Carriacou the storm also did considerable damage, with members of my own family caught up in the fray. The homestead, fortunately, remained intact, but the devastation to the properties of two of my brothers was immense, and it left the small plantation leveled and under water.

In interviews with the news media, the prime minister, whose own residence was destroyed, described the situation as extremely grave. Just imagine that in addition to everything else, the roof and parts of the walls of the Grenada jail blew off, with scores of prisoners escaping! In conversations with the Adventist Review, Grenada Conference treasurer Donald Modeste spoke of robbery and looting, some of this attributed, no doubt, to the escaped convicts. In general, the picture is grim, with electricity not expected to be restored until December, and children not returning to school till January.

We're talking major crisis here. And it's no secret that Grenada is not one of the planet's oases of wealth. The nation is suffering. Our people are hurting.

The Future With Confidence
Having just visited (in connection with the centenary) and taken the pulse of the membership, however, I have a sense that the church, though beaten down at the moment, remains unbowed, keeping ever before its vision the second element of its centenary theme: "Facing the Future With Confidence."

And there's much to be confident about. The afternoon program Sabbath, complete with attention-grabbing drama, depicted work in the various districts of the conference, highlighting the dedication of members—old and young—to the task of making the Adventist presence felt in every corner of the nation.

In the experience of the Grenadian Adventist Church, the operative phrase in that last sentence ("old and young") is not a cliché. When General Conference president Jan Paulsen dialogued with young adults in his "Let's Talk" forum last September, a young female student from Detroit wanted to know what the church can do to ensure that local pastors recognize and engage the talent of college and university graduates when they return to their home churches. In part of his response Paulsen mentioned visiting churches in some areas of the world and having to ask himself: Where are the young people?

Grenada would not have been among those places the young woman asked about, nor the ones the president had observed. The dramas and skits and songs and presentations that Sabbath afternoon in St. George's displayed throughout a seamless commingling of seniors, young adults, youth, and children—with the preponderance, by far, of youth and young adults. The sense of ownership was obvious and palpable, with no generation gap visible. Everyone, old and young, behaved as if the church belongs to them—and it does.

Said Secretary Williams in a note to me: "The Adventist Church is growing rapidly among the young people of our state." An evangelistic series concluded in May 2004, for example, yielded 261 baptisms, he said. Of that number, "210 were under the age of 35, and 170 were under the age of 25. This has been the trend for the past 10 years," he observed. We have a youthful church on our hands, he said, and "the youth themselves are very active in evangelism, with many of them conducting evangelistic efforts yearly with good success."

That's a big story, it seems to me, and the whole church needs to hear it. There's an exciting future for the Adventist mission in Grenada, the setbacks of Ivan the terrible notwithstanding.

A Final Reflection
The centenary celebrations ended with a massive islandwide, all-day motorcade Sunday July 18 (motorcades being—in the culture of the island—a typical way of bringing one's message to the attention of the general public). Thousands stayed with the program until the curtain fell at the now-abandoned Pearls Airport runway on the island's northern end, a spacious place well equipped to handle the hundreds of vehicles in the procession.

As we drove away at the end of the program, one of the impressions that stood out in my mind was the passion of the church's leaders in the country. Executive secretary Williams is absolutely ablaze with energy and enthusiasm. And as for conference president Clinton Lewis, he came across as a man consumed with the mission of the church. "My goal," he said to my wife and me as we drove together one day, "is that every single person on the island should become a Seventh-day Adventist." And he said it not with any bigotry or disrespect for other faiths, but rather with a genuine note of excitement for the mission and message of the Adventist Church—as if utterly convinced that such an outcome could bring nothing but good to the tri-island nation, and that we're running against the clock.

Which leads me to my final point: 2004 has been a year of Adventist centenaries. Historic Takoma Park Adventist Church, not far from the General Conference, is observing one. The Portuguese Union (in the Euro-Africa Division) has one, as does the Welsh Mission (in the Trans-European Division). And many other Adventist institutions and entities are 100 years old this year.

For Adventists, such mileposts—though on the one hand a cause for rejoicing—also give reason for deep and uncomfortable reflections. Skeptical onlookers may want to know why we're still here after 100 years, given our emphasis on the imminence of the Advent. Why are we still around celebrating? Why should not the whole idea about the end of the world be regarded as prophetic fantasy? These are not questions to be taken lightly.

In Maryland and the entire metropolitan Washington, D.C., area this past spring, we experienced an invasion by a species of cicadas that materializes in the region every 17 years or so. Millions and millions of them descended upon us—extremely noisy, but totally harmless to humans, and practically helpless. As I rescued many of them fallen helpless on their backs, their little legs struggling futile in the air, the words of the French Existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre came back to me against the background of these centennial events.

"Man," Sartre said somewhere (commenting on the meaninglessness of human existence), "is like an insect fallen on its back and vainly trying to right itself again." He added, "If we look thousands of years backward to the past or peer millenniums into the future, life is all the same." Nothing has changed, and nothing will change. If you had talked to Sartre about the Advent, he'd have responded: "Nonsense! Prophetic fantasy! You're celebrating your 100th anniversary; your children will celebrate the 200th; and their descendants, the 300th; and so on, ad infinitum."

But as far as Adventists in Grenada are concerned, we've not been conned. This is no giant hoax. The fury of Ivan the terrible joins a great host of other witnesses to a planet groaning for redemption—for a better time, a time of peace and joy and tranquillity, when sorrow and sighing will flee away.

There are those who refuse to believe a storm is coming until they actually see it. There were those new to Maryland (this writer included) who privately doubted the idea of cicadas rising—until they actually witnessed it. In regard to that great resurrection morning, of which the emergence of the cicadas is a symbol, we don't want to wait that long to believe. Now is the time to affirm that these things shall be!

That's the story—and the message—of Adventists in Grenada, committed to using their resources, however meager, to do extraordinary things for God.

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Roy Adams is an associate editor of the Adventist Review.