The Reformation and the Remnant: The Reformers Speak to Today’s Church (Nampa, ID: Pacific Press, 2016), 142 pp. Paperback, US$15.99

On the eve of five centuries since Martin Luther circulated his 95 Theses in Wittenberg comes this thoughtful, and at times even provocative, book on the meaning and relevance of the Protestant Reformation for Seventh-day Adventists. While author Nicholas P. Miller certainly draws on many lessons from the magisterial reformers, he essentially makes the case that perhaps the most significant Protestant legacy comes from some rather unexpected sources. In a nutshell, Miller argues that the idea of the moral government of God is at the heart of the Reformation and, for that matter, is what Adventist theology is all about (50).

How does Miller connect the dots? He offers two sources as related to Ellen G. White: her Arminian Methodist roots and her acquaintance with Albert Barnes’ commentaries (48). The connection to Methodism makes perfect sense since Arminius, and those like Wesley who followed in his wake, were definitely concerned about God’s glory and reputation (37–38). Yet Miller traces the roots back even deeper (especially through Barnes’ commentaries) to Hugo Grotius, someone with whom Miller as a lawyer would have been familiar for his significant legal and theological contributions and, most notably, for writing what is considered to be the first modern book of apologetics. Yet it is another work by Grotius, entitled Concerning the Satisfaction of Christ, that has profound implications for Adventist theology, which deals with the moral government of God. Such a moral government can only function in a universe made up of moral beings who have the freedom to make responsible choices. God’s government is closely intertwined with His character. Since God’s character is love, such love is expressed naturally in how He governs the universe. Human beings are free to make and evaluate moral choices. Grotius also moves beyond the traditional satisfaction theory of the atonement (i.e., Anselm’s view). Grotius argues that God is not merely an offended deity, but represents the entire universe. This is “a universe that can have peace and safety only when moral guidelines are respected and followed” (41). Thus God acts for the benefit of the entire universe in order to establish order, stability, and security.

It makes sense then that Miller, a religious historian with a keen legal mind, connects the dots in this way to White’s view of the moral government of God. In fact, he argues that White, with only indirect connections to the much earlier Grotius, develops this theory of the moral government of God as one of love (48). White develops this most clearly in her description of the great controversy theme between Christ and Satan—which is, Miller argues, the key to White’s thought (35).

The Reformation and the Remnant expands on this thesis in a variety of ways, such that even those who are not specialists can clearly understand the historical background and issues. Right from the beginning he reviews the basics of the Protestant Reformation: the role of Scripture and reason, the later Wesleyan quadrilateral (something with which I wish more Adventists were familiar), and the difference between a norm, norming norm, and formative norm (see the discussion on 24–25).

The book then delves into a wide variety of controversial and relevant topics that I think most Adventists will find incredibly refreshing. Rather than discuss each one in this review, I will offer just a few highlights. Perhaps what I found the most heartfelt and relevant was how the author addresses women’s ordination (chapter 7, 89–99). He first discusses the tragedy of the Marburg disputation when Luther and Zwingli sparred over the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. Tragically, this divided what was until then a united reform movement. What was meant to cause unity ironically caused division. As Christians, Miller observes, there is a time to stand for non-negotiable principles and truths, but then one also has to distinguish other times when “tolerance and forbearance” are necessary. Thus “there is a place for religious liberty within the church as well as outside it” (91). For the sake of unity, Miller suggests that Christians must learn to submit to one another even when we disagree. At the same time, he observes that “organizational guidelines have their place, but they should give way when they impede mission” (95). He notes that White was far more flexible and pragmatic about gender, which by implication suggests that this is an issue in which we, as a church, need to exude Christian tolerance and love.

Other tough topics Miller tackles include the importance of marriage in light of the narrative of Revelation 14 (I loved how Miller describes this chapter as our Adventist “Magna Carta”). Similarly, he argues that theistic evolution just doesn’t make sense for Adventist theology because it effectively undermines the great controversy framework, along with its implications for God’s character (59). My personal favorites are the sensitive topic of the Adventist proclivity toward conspiracy theories (115–123) and the danger of Last Generation Theology (125–137). In the latter chapter, he argues that part of the problem relates to a misguided understanding of Christian perfection as related to the different streams of the Protestant Reformation (and that White’s view of Christian perfection really aligns most clearly with Wesley’s in light of God’s moral government of love). This last chapter alone is worth the price of the book. Adventist pastors, administrators, and other thought leaders will be richly rewarded by taking the time to spend an evening reading this book.