Wolfgang Vondey: The Scandal of Pentecost

Wolfgang Vondey, The Scandal of Pentecost: A Theology of the Public Church (New York: T&T Clark, 2024), 269 pages, ISBN 9780567712646.

Here is a book that lingers in the mind like an unresolved chord. In the cacophony of modern theology, where the church often whispers from the shadows of institutional safety, Wolfgang Vondey’s The Scandal of Pentecost: A Theology of the Public Church erupts like the biblical wind and fire it describes—demanding we confront the raw, disruptive birth of the Christian community not as a tidy origin story, but as a scandalous intrusion into public life.

Vondey, a prominent Pentecostal theologian and professor at the University of Birmingham, draws from his deep roots in Pentecostal scholarship to reframe Pentecost as the foundational event where the church emerges as a “public symbol of humanity,” embodying both brokenness and redemption. The book weaves biblical exegesis, historical theology, and philosophical anthropology into a narrative that challenges privatized views of Pentecost. It argues that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on “all flesh” (Acts 2:17) isn’t a mere spiritual footnote but a transformative scandal, revealing the church’s symbiotic tensions—internal conflicts and external confrontations—that propel it into the world.

Without delving into minutiae, Vondey invites readers to see Pentecost as the church’s ongoing pilgrimage, a symbol bridging divine promise and human frailty, urging us to rediscover its public relevance amid contemporary ecclesial debates. The introduction contrasts the “private Pentecost” of the upper room with the “public advent of the church,” highlighting how the disciples’ emergence—loud, boisterous, and accused of drunkenness—attracts a diverse crowd “from every nation under heaven” (Acts 2:5), sparking debate and conversion (p. 2). Chapter 1 delves into the church as symbol, tracing a typology from Dionysius’ cataphatic and apophatic theology to modern models like Rahner’s incarnational, Tillich’s existential, and Neville’s transformational approaches, arguing that the symbol resides in the “middle” of divine descent and human ascent (pp. 19–56). This symbolic framework progresses in chapter 2 to “The Christian Scandal,” where Vondey examines Pentecost’s continuity with Christ’s cross, portraying the church as a “broken symbol” manifesting humanity’s estrangement and redemption (p. 57). The setting shifts to the aesthetic and behavioral chaos of “Drunken Disciples” in chapter 3, where the disciples’ Spirit-inspired exuberance is both ridiculed and revelatory, embodying an “aesthetics of the Spirit” that challenges social norms (p. 85, quote on p. 87: “the scandal finds its decisive expression in the resolve of the contrast between the judgement of the crowd and the immediate response”). Chapter 4, “The Tongues of Babel,” explores linguistic plurality, contrasting imperial liturgies with diasporic resistance, showing how Pentecost’s tongues foster prophetic dialogue across cultures (p. 117). In chapter 5, “The Anointing of the Flesh,” Vondey probes the corporeal dimensions of the Spirit’s outpouring, insisting that salvation is enfleshed, not ethereal, and elevates Pentecost to a normative event for human embodiment (p. 159, quote on p. 161: “the scandal of Pentecost discloses a behavior formed by the intoxication of the flesh with God’s Spirit”). The progression culminates in chapter 6, “Prophetic Witness,” where the church’s empowerment for mission is depicted as a paradoxical dissolution and reconstitution of power, leading to the conclusion that Pentecost is the ongoing beginning of the public church as symbol of humanity (pp. 193–234). According to Vondey, Pentecost has an anthropological scope: the Spirit’s empowerment for witness transforms individual and communal life, resisting both cessationist dismissals and charismatic excesses. In short, the book’s argumentative arc centers on Pentecost: from historical anomaly to enduring paradigm for the church’s public identity.

I have to say, Vondey’s book resonated deeply with me on multiple levels—it’s the kind of theology that doesn’t just inform but provokes a reevaluation of how we live out our faith in the public sphere. One of the book’s great strengths, in my opinion, is its refusal to separate theology from lived experience. Vondey draws on the rich tradition of Pentecostal spirituality—its emphasis on encounter, testimony, and transformation—while also engaging critically with broader ecumenical and philosophical currents. He is attentive to the dangers of both sectarianism and assimilation, warning against the church’s retreat into insularity or its capitulation to the logic of the market and the state (p. 112). Instead, he calls for a renewed understanding of the church as a “public event,” a space where the Spirit’s presence is made manifest in concrete practices of justice.

Vondey devotes significant attention to the theme of prophetic power and its public implications. He draws on a wide range of biblical and historical sources to show that prophetic acts—whether in ancient Israel or in the early church—were often “publicly recognized as legitimizing [the community’s] prophetic identity” (p. 41). These acts ranged from “astonishing and extraordinary performances contradicting expectations of what is ‘normal’ or ‘possible’ to ordinary (albeit unconventional) human activities performed with often startling, bizarre and even offensive consequences” (p. 41). The scandal of Pentecost, then, is not only a matter of theological doctrine but of public behavior—of a community willing to risk misunderstanding, opposition, and even persecution for the sake of its prophetic witness (p. 43).

Vondey’s engagement with the concept of the church as a public symbol is another highlight of the book. Drawing on the work of public theologians such as Martin Marty, he argues that the church’s public witness is not merely a matter of visibility or influence, but of embodying “the communal character of faith” in a world marked by fragmentation and conflict (p. 8). The church, he writes, is “a faith built of ‘broken symbols,’ manifested above all in the scandal of the crucified Christ” (p. 91). The public nature of the church is thus inseparable from its willingness to embrace brokenness, vulnerability, and the tensions of life in a pluralistic society (p. 91). Vondey is clear that the church’s public vocation is not about triumphalism or domination, but about offering “ordering against chaos and meaning where it had been absent” (p. 12). The church’s task, he suggests, is to engage in a “public hermeneutic” that interprets Christian symbols in ways that are persuasive and life-giving, both within and beyond the boundaries of the faith community (p. 20).

The Scandal of Pentecost is not without its challenges. Vondey’s vision is demanding: it calls for a church that is willing to be unsettled, to risk misunderstanding and even rejection for the sake of the gospel. He is clear-eyed about the temptations of power, the dangers of co-optation, and the persistence of division within the body of Christ (p. 112). Yet he remains hopeful, convinced that the Spirit is still at work, calling the church to ever-greater fidelity and creativity. Vondey’s insistence on the public character of Pentecost is especially relevant in our current context, where the boundaries between church and society are constantly being renegotiated. His call for a church that is both rooted in tradition and open to the future resonates with the best impulses of Pentecostalism as a movement of renewal—one that is always seeking new ways to embody the gospel in changing circumstances (p. 178).

Before I rest my pen, one thing must not go unnoticed: not every academic theological book ends with a poem, but Wolfgang Vondey’s choice to conclude poetically is both striking and fitting. The poem distills the book’s central themes into a vivid, almost breathless sequence of images, capturing the disruptive and transformative energy of Pentecost. Vondey’s language is intentionally visceral—“heart-beating, lips-stammering / sons and daughters / in scandalous intoxication”—evoking the embodied, communal, and even chaotic nature of the Spirit’s outpouring. It’s a powerful poetic summary that resonates long after the final page.

In conclusion, The Scandal of Pentecost is a significant and inspiring contribution to Pentecostal theology and to the wider conversation about the church’s place in the world. It is a work of both scholarship and imagination, rooted in tradition yet open to the future. For those seeking to articulate a public theology of Pentecostalism—one that is both faithful to the Spirit and responsive to the complexities of contemporary life—Vondey’s book is an indispensable resource. It challenges us to embrace the scandal of the Spirit, to risk new forms of community, and to bear witness to the hope that is within us. But perhaps the most enduring gift of Vondey’s work is its reminder that the church’s true vocation is not to seek safety or respectability, but to live in the creative tension of the Spirit’s leading. The scandal of Pentecost is that God’s Spirit refuses to be domesticated—refuses to be confined to our institutions, our traditions, or our comfort zones. Instead, the Spirit calls us out—into the world, into relationship, into the risky, joyful, and sometimes messy work of building communion in the midst of difference. To embrace the scandal of Pentecost is to open ourselves to the Spirit’s surprising, unsettling, and renewing work—not only for our own sake, but for the life of the world.

Reviewed by Ciprian Gheorghe-Luca

 

Tags: church, community, pentecost, politics, prophecy, prophetic, public square, scandal, theology, transformation, vondey, Wolfgang Vondey

Category: Fall 2025, Spirit