“Congregations are shrinking and in decline in the United States and elsewhere” (xiii). Michael Plekon (Emeritus Professor of Baruch College), begins the introduction to his new book, Ministry Matters, with this matter-of-fact statement, not to frighten Christ-followers or cause undue despair, but to set the stage for us to see clearly the work God is doing in the Church today. It is apparent to most people that we are living in anxious, even perilous, times; however, according to Plekon, there is hope for resurrection from death. This is one of the themes of Plekon’s previous book, Community as Church, Church as Community (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2021), which carries over, in part, to Ministry Matters. Although the two books complement each other, Plekon’s latest work moves on from inquiry about church decline to inquiring about “the vocation, lives, and work of pastors today” (xiii).

There are two major ideas running through the book: that “pastors are among us to bring God to the people and the people to God” (xv, 15 times in alternate forms), and “we will listen” to others (xvi, also another 52 times in alternate forms). That Plekon gives these ideas a place of prominence in his research should be enough to inform the reader as to where this book is leading them. God in Christ remains at the centre of the Church, and we, whether ordained or lay, must be willing to listen closely to others who have something to say about being fellow servants in the service of the Lord Jesus and our neighbours. For this study, Plekon chose several well-known pastor-theologians to listen to and engage with: George Keith, Nicholas Afanasiev, Cathie Caimano, C. Andrew Doyle, David Barnhart, Andrew Root, Sam Wells, Barbara Brown Taylor, Nadia Bolz-Weber, Sarah Coakley, Rowan Williams, Henri Nouwen, Pope Francis, and Will Willimon.

So, to return to one of the main ideas that Plekon’s friend, George Keith, developed in one of his sermons, an answer to “what is a priest?” is provided in a simple, yet profound way: “someone who takes God to the people and the people to God” (15). For the author, this is the “most fundamental” characterization of a priest’s function (16). But this definition is just the beginning of a journey through the ministries of Plekon’s other conversation partners. From Pope Francis’s appeal to all clergy that they should have “the smell of the sheep” (126), to Rowan Williams’s understanding of the ordained “as a witness to God’s solidarity with us” (108), Plekon provides his readers with a veritable treasure trove of valuable insights into what it looks like to be a minister of the gospel of Jesus Christ in the twenty-first century.

I have read slowly, listened carefully to each voice, and continue to reflect deeply as a means to learn well and dismantle a plethora of biases. Coming from a rather conservative, Protestant background, I found some of the material foreign, other parts challenging, and a few sections somewhat deficient. If you are of a similar ilk, then you may understand and agree; otherwise, you will be hard-pressed to find fault with this book. For example, a Protestant reader unfamiliar with tradition-specific terminology such as icon, priest, rite, parish, or Eucharist may feel a bit lost while traversing the pages. Some may be challenged in mind and spirit when they read about Sarah Coakley’s experience with transcendental meditation (99), or Plekon’s inclusion of Latter Day Saints as members of the body of Christ (67), or Will Willimon’s insistence that there are no “‘ungodly’ forces [that] have declared war on Christianity” (152). Finally, given the limitations of space and the nature of research, Plekon did not listen to Baptists or Pentecostals, two large and stable groups whose voices would have added much to the overall conversation. Regardless, this book is a treasure trove of wisdom regarding the multifaceted experiences of the ordained. I strongly suggest that it to be read and digested by any Christ-follower who has an interest in the Church and the ordained, and who believe that ministry still matters—especially in a season of congregational shrinkage and church decline. The need for faithful pastors and laity is greater than ever before.

Reviewed by Joseph R. Fiorentino

Publisher’s page: https://wipfandstock.com/9781666789959/ministry-matters/

This review also appeared in Didaskalia: The Journal of Providence Theological Seminary, Volume 32, pp. 121-124 (2025), ISSN #0847-1266.

Do you remember the last time you consulted a commentary? There is a high probability that you did not read it all the way through from cover to cover. Commentaries usually sit for quite some time on a bookshelf waiting to be used as reference material for a pastor’s next sermon, a student’s next research paper, or a professor’s next class lecture. Having referred to many types of commentaries over the years as both a student and pastor, I found Michael J. Gorman’s Romans to be a refreshing surprise thanks, in part, to its elevated level of readability. This expository commentary is for pastors, students, and laypeople who want to consider the contemporary, spiritual and pastoral implications of Paul’s letter; however, there is no reason academics should bypass this volume. Anyone interested in understanding Romans better should benefit from the erudite scholarship of this renowned New Testament scholar. In part, his goal for this commentary is to “help those who struggle with the letter to read it more intelligibly, and charitably and to embrace its call to participate in the life God offers in Christ by the Spirit more fully” (xviii). It is this volume’s emphases on the newness of life in Christ, participation and transformation, and “the life and mission of God in the world” which allows this commentary to stand out in a crowded market.

For anyone who is more familiar with verse-by-verse commentary, this one will require a slight adjustment period to become accustomed to Gorman’s panoramic exposition of the text. This refreshing view of Paul’s letter is helpful for discerning the overarching themes presented in both the individual chapters and the entirety of the letter. The Pauline themes which Gorman emphasizes are numerous and familiar; however, there are several themes which receive special attention that resonate with his longstanding scholarly interests—righteousness and justice, life and cruciformity, participation and transformation. For example, the reader will find several gray-box excursuses throughout the commentary section. One of these, The Vocabulary of Righteousness, Justice, and Justification, contains an explanation as to why the translational usage of two English word families, “right-” and “just-,” for one Greek word-family, dik,- is problematic vis-à-vis gaining an accurate understanding of Paul’s inspired motive for using the dik-family of words to articulate the righteousness or justice of God (70).

Paul may be referred to as a pastoral theologian, so this commentary may be considered “theological-pastoral” (xvii). It focuses on ‘discourse units,’ and mostly “comments on the text, not on other commentators” (xviii). The volume has seven major commentary sections (1:1-17; 1:18-4:25; 5:1-8:39; 9:1-11:36; 12:1-15:13; 15:14-33; 16:1-27) with each divided into subsections that are arranged beneath boldface subtitles (burgeoning editors might notice a few discrepancies within the Contents—missing are several boldface subtitles for sections 1:1-17 and 9:1-11:36, two subtitles as included on pages 77 and 180, and major section summaries; also, the usage of boldface and italics in the Contents does not match the corresponding text in the Body).  Four major section summaries are included within the volume’s pages (Rom. 1-4, 141; Rom. 5-8,  216-17; Rom. 9-11, 241; and Rom. 12-16, 300); subsection summaries are only occasionally provided for the reader. Reflections and Questions and For Further Reading are practical resources for the reader, helpfully placed after chapters one and two; thereafter, they follow each discourse unit.

This commentary does contain several intriguing approaches to texts that have proven to be difficult or divisive for decades, if not centuries. For example, Gorman does not shy away from controversial politics as seen in Reflections and Questions, as well as in the gray-box excursus, “Romans 13 and Nonconformity Today” (cf. 107, 213, 257-9, 263). His discussion on predestination “as a testimony to God’s mercy and faithfulness” may be a cause of concern for some who understand it differently (46, 221-23). Also, the author’s humble and respectful perspective on Romans 1:24-27 (same-gender sexual relations) will most certainly compel readers to either reevaluate or solidify their position on the subject. In all of these cases, some may believe Gorman to be relatively myopic; however, as he tells his hermeneutics students, “let whoever is without sin cast the first stone,” and reminds the reader, with sincere humility, that “our best interpretive efforts are never infallible.” (xviii, 91).

This review began with the supposition that most people have never read a commentary from cover to cover. Well, this will be a commentary you will want to read closely from beginning to end. Gorman states at the opening of his exposition that pastors, students, and laypeople may benefit from his work. However, it is not an exaggeration to make the assertion that everyone can benefit from this commentary.

Reviewed by Joseph R. Fiorentino

This book review previously appeared in Didaskalia: The Journal of Providence Theological Seminary, Volume 31, pp. 140-44 (2023-2024), ISSN 0847-1266. Used with permission.

Publisher’s page: https://www.eerdmans.com/9780802877628/romans/

Despite the fact that we, as mere fading mortals, go out of our way to not think about death, great works of art and literature tend to inexplicably draw us into the obscure world of mortality. The End of the Christian Life is one of the latest books to wrestle with this topic—a topic that is increasingly inconsistent with mainstream cultural mores. J. Todd Billings provides a freshness and unobscured clarity to a difficult conversation that can be attributed both to his erudite scholarship and present experience with terminal cancer. Billings increases the veracity of his book by engaging with numerous authoritative voices—from early Church Fathers to contemporary scholars. Based strictly on the title, this book concerns a critical phase in the life of a Christian, but believers and non-believers alike, who want to know how to “truly live,” will benefit greatly from the gems found at the surface and buried beneath.

Following the informative introduction, chapter one presents the reader to the pit of Sheol where those who are imprisoned within it feel abandoned, helpless, and cut off from God. Contrary to the belief of some, “no mortal lives for long without visiting Sheol for a time,” Billings muses (p. 30). Often Sheol is experienced in the death of someone close to us, frustrating our attempt for complete control over life. Our consistent denial of the recurring experience of Sheol engenders a false sense of control. Maybe we should stop fighting, “open our eyes and breathe deeply in the Pit itself,” Billings suggests (p. 45).

Billings ponders the views of his friend Walter and that of Irenaeus, a second-century bishop, both of whom approached death as part of a divine pedagogy, in the second chapter, “Two Views of Mortality.” Contrasting views, as seen through the theology of St. Augustine and the author’s experience of the memorial service for his friend Melissa, are then presented as a counterbalance. Although death may testify to God’s love for us, it is both irrational and a consequence of sin (p. 66). The reality of these opposing views is that both death and dying are, simultaneously, gifts of the “arc of human life,” and “an enigma and a wound” that point us to the redemptive death of Christ (pp. 57, 68).

Chapter five addresses two extant views of flourishing—the so-called prosperity gospel, and God’s counterview. With cancer patients as his focus, Billings talks about the religious hope that keeps them enheartened and living. He finds that deeply religious patients choose extreme measures of treatment, their risky choices revealing their view of flourishing. How Christians are formed theologically leads to important questions such as, where does our hope lie, how does God act in this world, and does God want us to prosper? Billings looks at the theology of healing as espoused by Joseph Prince and then turns to the teachings of St. Paul to examine the difference between how humans and God define prosperity. He completes this chapter by redirecting the discussion towards the Pauline emphasis of a life hidden with Christ.

Timing is everything, so it goes without saying that this book could not have been released at a better time. The global COVID-19 pandemic and its hourly coverage by an impassioned media has served to remind us of our frailty by resurrecting a once-dormant fear of mortality. Dying and death is the obvious theme of the book, but this is ameliorated by many other themes such as the human desire for control over death, and the idolatrous trust in modern medicine. I was encouraged by how the author treats these universal human perceptions with informed grace. All Christians and non-Christians will recognize themselves—their thoughts and attitudes—within the pages of this book and not feel condemned. Also, I found the discussion questions placed at the end of each chapter helpful for assimilating what was read. My only frustration was found in a minor misstep that fails to include Christians from outside of the Reformed faith tradition. Some readers may be uncomfortable with Billings’ implicit theology of God’s sovereignty, water baptism, and irresistible grace; however, any noticeable doctrinal differences do not detract from the book’s overall message. Altogether, J. Todd Billings offers to his audience a gripping message of resurrection hope in Christ, thereby lifting everyone with faith in God, up and out of the deep, dark, and ensnaring pit of Sheol.

Reviewed by Joseph R. Fiorentino

This book review previously appeared in Didaskalia: The Journal of Providence Theological Seminary, Volume 30 2021-2022, CS ISSN #0847-1266. Used with permission.

Publisher’s page: http://bakerpublishinggroup.com/books/the-end-of-the-christian-life/392000

Pastor Joseph Fiorentino reviews a classic book about the Azusa Street Revival in the early Twentieth Century, the birthplace of the Pentecostal movement.

Cover from the 2000 edition.

Frank Bartleman, Azusa Street: An Eyewitness Account to the Birth of the Pentecostal Revival (New Kensington, PA: Whitaker House, 1982), 171 pages, ISBN 9780883686386.

The turn of the twentieth century marked a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit. New life was breathed into receptive parts of the Church universal as a result of the overwhelming spiritual hunger for God in people like Frank Bartleman. In the aptly named book Azusa Street, originally published as Another Wave Rolls In, Frank Bartleman painstakingly records the events leading up to the apparent and influential revival at the Azusa Street Mission in 1906 and a behind-the-scenes look at the many other supernatural works of the Holy Spirit taking place in various locations around the world. In addition, Bartleman unknowingly lays the early groundwork for burgeoning Pentecostal doctrines such as the baptism of the Holy Spirit evidenced by speaking in tongues, prayer, revival, and eschatology—all important emphases in his reflections.

Frank Bartleman was the son of a Pennsylvania farmer who decided that farming was not for him. Shortly after his conversion to Christ, Bartleman engaged in full-time ministry; however, his allegiance to any one Christian organization was always short-lived, moving from church to church or group to group. His constant migration brought him and his family across the entire country to Sacramento where he worked at a Holiness mission. Difficult circumstances brought Bartleman and his family to Los Angeles in December of 1904. Just one month later, the family lost their first-born child, Esther. Her death prompted Bartleman to give his life fully to God which was realized as “a great burden and cry … for a mighty revival” (8).

The Azusa Mission was a spiritual haven for people from diverse races, colours, and national origins. The atmosphere seemed to be filled with God’s love and many desired the baptism of the Holy Spirit. All people were treated with equity at the Azusa Mission. Bartleman wrote, “We had no respect of persons. The rich and educated were the same as the poor and ignorant …” (56). It was this egalitarian belief that reinforced Bartleman’s negative attitude towards any form of hierarchy and ecclesiasticism. William J. Seymour was responsible for the Mission, but ultimately God was in control of the revival. Bartleman described God’s direction by writing, “Demons are being cast out, the sick healed, many blessedly saved, restored, and baptized with the Holy Spirit and power” (64). In Bartleman’s understanding, this three-year move of God was possible because “the whole place [Azusa Mission] was steeped in prayer” (58).

It was prayer that led Bartleman to start a mission at Eighth and Maple Streets, and it was in this particular mission that he first spoke in tongues. Almost ten pages of this book are dedicated to his supernatural experience. Bartleman, quite unintentionally, laid out a simple doctrine of the baptism of the Holy Spirit—which is quite ironic since, in his view, doctrine binds and causes division within the church. One element of the baptism, which stands out from the rest, is Bartleman’s observation that all who received the baptism of the Spirit also spoke in tongues. In his personal experience, a person fully yielded to and wanting more of God will not struggle or have difficulty receiving the baptism of the Spirit. But “the baptism is not all tongues,” writes Bartleman, it is a “place of illumination and abandonment” (80). Finding himself in this spiritual place, Bartleman decided to hand over responsibility for the Eighth and Maple Streets mission and started out on a global ministry tour that lasted about three years.

Between 1907 and 1911, Frank Bartleman traveled throughout the United States, the Middle East, and Asia preaching in various churches. When he was back home in Los Angeles, he observed that the local missions were in bad shape spiritually, especially Azusa Mission. But this condition at Azusa would change upon the arrival of William Durham to the mission in early 1911. Durham ministered in Azusa Mission until Seymour had him locked out: Durham rented a mission at Seventh and Los Angeles Streets and “Azusa became deserted” (118). According to Bartleman, 1911 was a wonderful year for Durham’s mission because “much of the old-time power and glory of the Azusa Mission days returned to us” (120). Subsequently, the years 1912 to 1914 were spent doing mission work in Europe, but the war forced Bartleman to return home.

The last chapter of Azusa Street consists of a message that Bartleman wrote in 1925. In this message, Bartleman presents his concerns about movements and what must take place so that they continue moving forward according to God’s eternal purpose. There are five “we must” statements which pave the way towards the full restoration of the true Church. The first and fourth declare unity, “We must work for the kingdom of God as a whole, not for some pet individual party, organization, or movement” (137) and “We must recognize the whole body of Christ” (142). Bartleman speaks out against the “isms” that separate the one, whole body of Christ: hierarchicalism, ecclesiasticism, sectarianism, and denominationalism. The second of the five statements is simple yet motivating, “We must keep moving!” (138). Bartleman’s point is that until “full restoration” of the Church is realized, Christians must continue to forge ahead seeking God in unity. The third statement pushes toward theological reform, “We need a readjustment of all our doctrines to the full, clear light of God in the Word” (138). Analyzing and redefining past experiences in “clear light” will bring the “church within the church” to full maturity. The fifth and last declarative touches on heart and attitude, “We must have the spirit of Caleb and Joshua, a different spirit from the multitude” (144). For Bartleman, the key to full restoration involves joining “God in His great movement” for the end is near!

Early Pentecostals used eschatological rhetoric quite frequently because they believed that the return of Jesus Christ was imminent. Throughout the book, Bartleman uses phrases like “we are rounding the corner,” “the end of the age,” “we are nearing the awesome climax,” “we are rapidly approaching the last days,” “we are reaching the culmination of this age,” and “this last hour,” which provides the reader with a powerful sense of urgency. His tract, “The Last Call” is another example of an urgent call to repentance and is strongly indicative of the early Pentecostal understanding of the apocalyptic Scriptures.

As much as Azusa Street is an eyewitness account of the mighty spiritual revival at the Azusa Mission, it is also a cautionary corrective for every Pentecostal or Charismatic follower of Christ. We must work towards unity in the body of Christ. We must continue to seek all that God has for us, while maintaining a spirit of humility and repentance before the Spirit of God. Jesus is coming back soon!

Reviewed by Joe Fiorentino

Further Reading:

Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., The Azusa Street Mission And Revival: The Birth of the Global Pentecostal Movement (Thomas Nelson, 2006).

Darrin J. Rodgers, “The Azusa Street Revival: What Frank Bartleman’s Eyewitness Account Reveals about the Worldview of Early Pentecostals” iFPHC.org (March 9, 2017).