Why I—an SDA Pastor—Am Glad Ryan Day Is Leaving Adventism
By Marcos Torres
Let me start with a confession: I’m a Seventh-day Adventist pastor.
I believe in the 28 Fundamentals. I love the sanctuary message. I affirm the remnant. I’m not some wild liberal pick-and-choose Adventist.
And I am glad Ryan Day left.
Now before you clutch your KJV’s or label me a heretic, hear me out.
What Ryan Day just left isn’t some centrally defined, universally agreed-upon version of Adventism. There is no such thing. Adventism is a wide tent. Inside it, you’ll find all kinds:
Ultra-conservatives who revere Ellen White like the Bible and talk more about diet, dress, and sinless perfection than they do about Jesus.
Ultra-progressives who reject a range of SDA distinctives and often take a more liberal-evangelical approach to theology.
And a bunch of us somewhere in between—hanging on, wrestling with nuance.
Ryan Day comes from the conservative end. The kind of Adventism that has produced some of the most legalistic, high-control religious environments I’ve ever had to deal with. And while I don’t cheer when anyone walks away from the community they once called home, in Ryan’s case?
I’m glad. Genuinely.
Because high-control religion is psychological poison.
Let’s talk about what he’s actually walking away from.
He’s walking away from a theology obsessed with behavior, obedience, and control. A version of Adventism where your salvation is always in question, where any doubt makes you spiritually sick, and where your entire identity is constantly under pressure to perform.
Sinless perfectionism isn’t just bad theology—it’s spiritual abuse dressed up in Sabbath clothes. It robs people of peace. It cripples self-worth. It weaponizes doctrine to manipulate behavior.
If Ryan Day is breathing a little easier this week, I thank God for it.
Because high-control religion is spiritually corrosive.
Ryan’s exit isn’t just about disagreement over Ellen White or the investigative judgment. It’s about a spiritual environment that slowly wears you down. That tells you doubt is dangerous. That punishes honest questions. That replaces grace with fear and calls it faithfulness.
This version of Adventism doesn’t lead people to Jesus—it traps them in a theological performance treadmill. It doesn’t spark revival—it manufactures anxiety.
When Ryan says he can’t keep pretending, I believe him. And I honor the courage it took to stop.
Because high-control religion is socially destructive.
Let’s not forget how this stuff plays out in real life.
It creates insular, us-vs-them communities. It turns neighbors into projects. It alienates children, shuns complexity, and silences anyone who dares ask, “Wait… is this really who God is?”
It’s no wonder Ryan’s story resonates with so many. He’s not alone. He’s just the one with the microphone.
This is what we now call religious trauma.
Psychologists are finally putting words to it. The anxiety. The hypervigilance. The nervous system stuck in fight-or-flight because your church taught you to fear God, fear the world, fear yourself.
Ryan Day lived in that world. And I, for one, am glad he stepped out.
Not because I want people to leave Adventism—but because I want people to be whole. To be free. To be healed.
And no, he shouldn’t leave quietly.
Some Adventists—even progressive ones—are upset that Ryan’s exit was public. “Just leave quietly,” they say. “Don’t make a scene.”
But that’s the problem, isn’t it?
People have been leaving quietly for decades. They slip out the back door, wounded and confused, and no one talks about it. No one asks why. No one dares challenge the system.
So when someone finally says, “Hey, this isn’t okay,” we owe them our ears—not our outrage.
Ryan isn’t bashing the church unfairly. He’s telling the truth about his experience. And the truth is, the fundamentalist version of Adventism he came from is broken. It hurts people. It damages souls. And it needs to be named.
If anyone should be quiet, it’s the fundamentalists.
I’m not talking about conservative theology. I’m talking about the ideologues. The ones who preach perfectionism, idolize Ellen White, and hijack the gospel to fit their fear-based narrative.
They’ve dominated our pulpits. They’ve poisoned our media. They’ve buried Adventism under a pile of legalism, control, and conspiracy.
Their version of faith is why your church members don’t have assurance. Why your youth are leaving. Why our movement feels more like a 1950s museum than a prophetic voice.
They are not the faithful remnant. They are the ones Jesus flipped tables on.
So please—don’t tell Ryan Day to be quiet. If anyone needs to stop talking, it’s the theological gatekeepers who’ve held this church hostage for too long.
For the record—I'm still here.
I’m a Seventh-day Adventist.
I believe in the sanctuary—just not the shallow, cheesy, rules-obsessed articulation of it.
I believe in the investigative judgment—just not the anxiety-inducing version that kills joy.
I believe Ellen White was a prophet—just not my pope.
And yes, I believe in all 28 Fundamentals. Even the uncomfortable ones.
But I reject the toxic, high-control version of Adventism that masquerades as holiness and leaves bodies in its wake. If that makes me a liberal, fine. Call me what you want. Just know this:
Fundamentalist Adventism is NOT Adventism.
It is a distortion. A takeover. A corruption of the radical, grace-soaked, world-shaking movement God intended us to be.
So Ryan—if you’re reading this...
I hope you find healing. I hope you rediscover Jesus without the noise. I hope your nervous system finally gets to rest. I hope your story helps others do the same.
Because as much as I love this church, the thing that breaks my heart isn’t people leaving.
It’s the ones who stay—and keep dying inside.
And to the rest of us…
Let’s not sit around waiting for our movement to sort itself out.
This toxic fundamentalism runs deep. It ain’t going anywhere.
If we wish to see a healthy, inclusive, welcoming, healing Adventism in the world we are going to have to birth it.
To plant new churches.
To launch new ministries.
To scale new innitiatives.
If you don’t know where to start, browse this website. It has lots of resources including tons of free ones.
But whatever you do, don’t wait for something magical to happen. It won’t. We need to get to work. We need to do this thing. We need to be the alternative we wish to see. And we need to do it. Not pastors. Not administrators. Not departmental leaders or conference presidents.
We the people.
Want to be part of the change but don’t know where to start?
Download my Free ebook “From Survival to Revival” HERE.
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