The Spirit and the Prophetic Church, Part 1, by Antipas L. Harris
As a second generation Pentecostal preacher and scholar, I believe that, on the one hand, it is important to highlight Brueggemann’s oversight. Margaret M. Poloma correctly points out that an important legacy of Pentecostalism is a “worldview” in which the prophetic is a central component; additionally, this “worldview” is one that makes room for the prophetic in Pentecostal practice.15 Poloma, furthermore, explains that the key forms of prophecy observable in contemporary Pentecostalism are two-fold: “(1) a democratized charism available to all Spirit-baptized persons and (2) an ecclesiastical office that is being restored to Christianity.”16 In general, underlying the Pentecostal interpretation of prophecy is a biblical hermeneutic which acknowledges the release of the prophetic at the first Pentecost in Acts 2.17
On the other hand, it is crucial for the Pentecostal theologian and pastor to apply a hermeneutic of suspicion to certain understandings of “the prophet” and “prophecy” that are commonplace in Pentecostal/charismatic churches.18 So then, at first glance the Pentecostal emphasis on the prophet or prophecy provides a promising platform for prophetic ministry that is grounded in a call to social action. However, contemporary Pentecostal churches must move beyond definitions of a prophetic ministry that are grounded in what I call spiritualist prognostication—the “name it and claim it” traditions and the “predict it and see it” traditions. Biblically defined prophetic ministry must not be reduced to merely an emotional worship service where someone proclaims spectacular events for singled out individuals. To speak prophetically is much more than this.
Leonard Lovett makes an important observation that “the ancient prophets were sent not only to foretell and predict events but to challenge the status quo in the name of YHWH. Any theology that does not seek to radically probe the nature and meaning of reality for our present moment is truncated and invalid.”19 A biblically prophetic ministry, moreover, has a communal interest with a focus on transforming “what is to ‘what ought to be.’”20
Furthermore, biblical prophetic theology, as I purport in this essay, keeps the church attuned to the shifting dynamics of community to advance their mission from God as his ambassadors of transformation. Prophetic ministry does not consist of social crusading or abrasive indignation. Rather, prophetic ministry acts on God’s mission for the world, presenting the divine message so that people may see their own history in the light of God’s freedom and his will for a better world. His freedom and his will for justice are discerned wherever people try to live together and show concern for their shared future and identity.21 But when churches disconnect from the communities within which they find themselves, they abort hope for the community. Sadly, a shifting economy and an influx of social unrest are sweeping past churches; their prophetic insights often seem so dim that they miss opportunities to participate in a unified prophetic move of the Holy Spirit among diverse traditions (as one Body of Christ) to bring “Good News” of hope and stability in the middle of existential unrest.
A Case Study: The Cradock Community and Its Churches
To locate this treatment within a context, I have chosen the community of Cradock, in Portsmouth, Virginia as a case study. Cradock’s citizens, crises and churches reflect an emerging problem within cities throughout the east coast and beyond whose history has experienced a shift. Like Cradock, the social situations of formerly stylish suburban communities have changed. Their demographics and socio-economics have altered, making them what I call “turned urban” communities. Against this backdrop, the churches that belong to these communities experience theological and ecclesiological distress. They are often unable to be either prophetic or ecumenical.
For decades, Portsmouth, Norfolk, Hampton and Newport News have been noted as the most “urban cities” of a broader seven-city metropolitan area called “Hampton Roads.” Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, and Suffolk are commonly considered the more suburban of the seven cities. Here, by the terms “urban” and “suburban” issues of ethnicity and socio-economical status come to bear. As in many American metropolises, poor African Americans have historically lived in clusters within various neighborhoods of the so-called “urban” cities of Hampton Roads. Yet, within these cities, there are ritzy areas mostly inhabited by middle and upper-middle class whites. Two examples are the Ghent neighborhood in Norfolk, and Cradock neighborhood in Portsmouth. Through the years, the City of Norfolk has made significant financial and infrastructure investments to maintain the historical flavor of Ghent. The historically cash-strapped City of Portsmouth has lagged behind in community redevelopment, and Cradock (along with many other neighborhoods) has declined over the years.
In 1918, the United States Housing Corporation established Cradock as one of the first urban developments in America, built during World War I. Cradock was considered a model community because it incorporated advanced planning techniques of its day.22 Built during segregation, Cradock was an exclusively white community, built for the white civilians who worked in the shipyard, while nearby Truxtun was built exclusively for black civilians who worked there. After the war, Cradock advanced as a thriving, self-sufficient community, independent of the rest of the City of Portsmouth. The community developed quickly. The residents built their own elementary, middle and high schools, post office, library, churches, shops, fire station, and even had their own police car.23 Afton Square, located in the heart of the community, was the first planned shopping district in the United States.
Category: Ministry, Pneuma Review, Spring 2013
Followers
Fans
