In case you missed it: Janet Epp Buckingham, “Ban the Mob, Not the Bible: Christians are the victims of hate in some places and the targets of hate speech laws in others. How can believers advocate for nations to address both threats in a consistent, principled way?” Christianity Today (June 6, 2024).

Dony Donev, “Theological Framework Centered on Neo-primitivism” Cup & Cross (October 25, 2025).

Mark D. Bjelland, “Charity Begins with Zoning Reforms” Christianity Today (November/December 2025).

This online article has the subtitle, “Stewarding our neighborhoods is part of Christian hospitality” and appeared in the print issue with the title, “Erasing Red Lines.”

In case you missed it: Hazel Southam, “The Quiet Revival: Gen Z leads rise in church attendance” Bible Society (April 7, 2025).

This report opens with this byline: “Church decline in England and Wales has not only stopped, but the Church is growing, as Gen Z leads an exciting turnaround in church attendance.” 50% growth in church attendance in 6 years? Yes, this is a quiet revival.

In case you missed it: “How adults are rediscovering Christianity through baptism” YouTube (September 30, 2025).

This special report from CBS Mornings about Gen Z men turning to Christianity is introduced: “In her series ‘The State of Spirituality,’ Lisa Ling looks at the rise in adult baptisms after the pandemic. At a time when many are leaving organized religion, some Americans are choosing to deepen their Christian faith.” One PneumaReview.com editor commented, “What is happening is so significant that even the secular press is taking note of it.”

David Livermore, “Which of the Six Global Leadership Types Best Describes You?” DavidLivermore.com (November 6, 2025).

Thought leader in Cultural Intelligence and PneumaReview.com author, David Livermore, introduces this article on global leader archetypes with this: “90 percent of leadership literature is biased toward one kind of leader—decisive, assertive, fast-paced, and individualistic. Yet most of the world prefers a different kind of leadership style.”

Image: Johannes Plenio

PR

Presence Is a Verb—a State of Being and an Action

The woman abruptly arose from the Sunday dinner table and accusingly spoke to her husband, “You wouldn’t care if I drowned in the waterhole.” She then turned and walked out the door.

It had been a typical Sunday for the sixteen-year-old girl. The Pentecostal family had dressed in their Sunday best, driven to church, and come home to eat a pot roast that had been cooking in the oven. But the tenor of the day had abruptly changed, and silence now ensued in her mother’s absence. The daughter stared in panic and disbelief while her father paused only momentarily before continuing with his meal. He outwardly appeared unphased by his wife’s startling behavior. Bewildered by his stoic demeanor, her mind whirled, “Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he chase after her?” She learned later that he had not understood his wife’s words. He, too, had been lost amidst the chaos.

The family was aware of the risks of the nearby waterhole. The sudden drop-offs or deep holes underneath the murky water caused it to be potentially perilous. Added to this watery death trap was the reality that her mother could not swim. A brain operation at age twenty had saved the mother’s life but had left her with an inability to walk a straight line on flat terrain, and being in water only exacerbated the unsteadiness. The daughter worried that she had just seen her mother alive for the last time. Like Ebenezer Scrooge facing the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, the teenager envisioned a life of darkness and separation brought on by death—her mother’s. At that moment, she desperately longed for her father to protect their family, to keep them safe from the terrors of death.

Concepts of this article are taken from Engelbert’s first book, Who is Present in Absence?: A Pentecostal Theological Praxis of Suffering and Healing (Pickwick Publications, 2019). The book is based on interviews with eight Classical Pentecostals, and their experiences are combined with psychology, culture, and Scripture/theology. In this article, Engelbert builds from some of the book’s principles to demonstrate how Pentecostals are uniquely qualified through our emphasis on the Spirit to be empowered to be present when God is apparently absent.

Amidst this chaos, the phone rang. The daughter answered. On the other end, she heard the voice of another 16-year-old girl who lived 180 miles away. The familiar voice said, “God told me to call you. What’s up?” Through this voice, God ministered to the panicked teen in her darkness. God revealed Godself as a minister to a 16-year-old teen through another 16-year-old in a void without safety and protection. God saw the daughter’s distress and invited her friend to participate in God’s ministry to be with the scared teen before her mother returned later that day.

God is revealed as a minister to a teenager, bringing healing presence to an impossible situation. God invites a long-distance friend to unite with God in another friend’s despair through listening and prayer. It conveys that God is a minister who invites humans to participate with God in God’s healing ministry of presence in the world. In what follows, I seek to demonstrate how presence is an act of healing ministry in which Pentecostals are uniquely equipped to participate in the power and the presence of the Spirit. To accomplish this, I draw from Pentecostal experiences, the field of psychology, and Scripture/theology.

Experiencing God’s Presence

The above supernatural incident and others like it are familiar to Pentecostals. We are a people who seek God’s presence. We call on God for revival, an encounter with God in which the Spirit convicts, heals, and renews God’s people. Our worship creates space in a service, which nurtures an expectation of experiencing God’s presence. We emphasize coming forward to the front (the altar) to a place where people may encounter God, be it for salvation, the baptism of the Spirit, healing, or sanctification. We stress the importance of prayer, which includes requests that God would supernaturally intervene. We highlight testimonies that give reports of our experiences of God, such as divine healing. In short, Pentecostals seek, hope, and/or expect to experience God’s presence.

I draw from our emphasis on God’s presence when I teach a course on Pentecostal pastoral care, in which I stress the importance of being present. At first, students push back on this idea. They desire action, such as learning how to use Scripture to solve people’s problems. For them, learning how to be present to others via empathy is not action. Presence does not fix it, so it is equated in their minds with doing nothing. It is devoid of the action necessary to generate transformation (similar to state of being verbs). As one who was born and raised Pentecostal, I relate. We are a pragmatic people who want a theology that works—an action that culminates in a definitive solution. I learned from my junior high English teacher, Mrs. Folkestad, that a noun is a person, place, or thing, and a verb expresses action or state of being; therefore, presence is a thing, not an action. But later in life (my apologies to Mrs. Folkestad), I came to see how presence is also a verb—it is both an action and a state of being.

Consider this question: What transpires when you experience the presence of God? Pentecostals typically respond with phrases like, “I felt love”; “I experienced a tremendous peace”; “I was no longer alone.” Many admit that although their circumstances did not change, they were strengthened through God’s presence. In that moment, they knew God was with them. This gave them courage to walk through their difficult valley, their impossibility. God’s presence transformed them, and it is this transformation that validates their experience as being a genuine act of ministry. When a sixteen-year-old friend participates in God’s ministry in the Spirit’s power by being present to an overwhelmed teenager through a phone call, God’s healing presence is encountered. This presence is an act of ministry. But Pentecostals are not alone in experiencing presence as being powerful for transformation. Psychology also supports that presence changes a person.

Humans Psychologically Need Healing Presence

At the time John Bowlby introduced attachment theory to the discipline of psychology, Western psychological theories tended to mirror our individualistic culture. Psychoanalysis was the dominating theory, focusing on the internal world of the person (think Freud’s ego, id, and superego). But Bowlby’s observations of children with their parents caused him to focus on relationships, not the inner parts of an individual. As such, he developed his theory of attachment. For Bowlby, humans (from infant to senior) instinctively long for the other’s presence to soothe them.

Image: Samuell Morgenstern

Bowlby believed we have an innate attachment behavioral system. When we are threatened, we seek to be close to someone who is stronger and wiser (an attachment figure) for support. Many of us may recall as children being awakened by a loud clap of thunder, and our fears being heightened by the bright, blinding bursts of lightning during a summer storm. As a two- or three-year-old, I was terrified, which meant my attachment behavioral system was activated. I was alone in the dark, feeling unsafe. Like any small child, I voiced my distress by crying loudly, and my mother responded by coming to be with me. Although my parents were unable to make the thunder and lightning cease, I received their support through their presence. As I curled up between them in the comfort of their bed, I felt safe and secure in their presence. Being with them enabled me to relax, and my attachment behavioral system was deactivated, allowing me to sleep. Their presence changed me without transforming the situation. The thunder was still loud and frightening. The lightning was still bright and scary. But their state of being present to me was an act of ministry—it brought healing comfort to my terrified being.

Scripturally/Theologically God Ministers through Presence

Thus far, we have seen how experiencing God’s presence in our worship services changes us. We have also recognized that psychologically we are created to be near others amidst our distress. The presence of those who are wiser and stronger brings about a sense of safety and security. Scripture and theology, too, reveal that God ministers through God’s being to humanity. Throughout human history, God enters into human chaos, or impossibilities, by joining humans in their powerlessness. For instance, when God enters the impossibility of an elderly couple’s childlessness, Abraham and Sarah have a son. God unites with Hagar and Ismael in their despair in the wilderness, delivering them from death (Gen 21). God joins the Hebrew slaves in their impossible situation by calling Moses, an elderly sheep herder, to participate in God’s ministry of deliverance (Ex 3). God repeatedly enters situations in which people experience separation, helplessness, and hopelessness—places of death. I am not speaking only of a physical death, but I am following Andrew Root by expanding death to include impossibilities, limitations, or a deep need that is beyond our reach. Each time that God comes into human impossibilities, God is revealed as minister through God’s being. God ministers by entering into a couple’s childlessness, a mother and son’s abandonment, a people’s oppression, and a sixteen-year-old’s fear of death.

Image: Vitaly Gariev

Such ministry through God’s being is most clearly seen in the person of Jesus Christ. Humanity is in an impossible situation. We are destined for death. As Paul informs us, the wages of our sin are certain death. All our attempts to escape death fall miserably short. Neither our good works, our praying and fasting, nor our offerings enable us to avoid death’s grip and ultimate separation. It is an impossible situation. And it is in this impossibility where God joins humanity.

John 3 reminds us that God’s love for the world initiates God’s act of sending the Son into the world to be with humanity in death. The Son, who is the very being of God, embodies God’s act of ministry to the world by joining with humanity. We may immediately call to mind that Jesus was present to humanity while he walked on this earth. However, I am referring to a ministry that is deeper than this. It is inward, taking place within the being of Jesus Christ. This ministry is seen more clearly through the theological concept called the hypostatic union. The hypostatic union states that Jesus is both fully divine and fully human. Two distinct natures. One divine. One human. Both are in one person without any blending or altering. Since they are in one person, the two natures are united, or in relationship, while remaining distinct in Jesus Christ. The divine is eternally connected with humanity within Jesus. That is, the divine is forever present to humanity in Jesus’s being. Because of the hypostatic union, God is revealed, and humanity is healed (reconciled). Both of these movements are transpiring in the person of Jesus Christ, who is God’s act of ministry.

This ministry that is taking place in Jesus, as seen in the hypostatic union, is both a healing ministry of presence and a healing action. In Jesus, presence becomes a ministry that is both a state of being and an act. The divine nature is present to and in relationship with the human nature in Jesus while healing humanity. In this light, Jesus is the embodiment of God’s ministerial act of healing presence (state of being and action). This is an ongoing healing ministry of the divine ministering healing presence to humanity. Through the power and the presence of the Spirit, we are now caught up in that healing act of presence. We are joined with Jesus’s humanity through the Spirit.

Moreover, we are invited to participate in this ministry of healing presence through the power of the Spirit. When we unite with other persons in the power of the Spirit in their impossibilities through presence, we are joining with God in God’s healing presence to them, which is occurring in the being of Jesus Christ. Therefore, God invites us, such as long-distance friends, to join others, like an overwhelmed sixteen-year-old, in their deaths. Transformation occurs because through the power of the Spirit, we are uniting with God in the ministerial act of God’s presence. This healing presence communicates, “You are not alone. I see you. I am here.” It ministers peace amidst chaos. It brings healing transformation.

A Pentecostal Response

Joining others in their deaths, limitations, or impossibilities calls for us to see God as a minister and to be dependent on the Spirit’s power. Too often we rely on our understanding in response to a hurting individual. We focus on ways to fix the issue or to find reasons why the impossibility exists. These types of responses to hurting people frequently include a form of avoidance, self-agency, or positivity. Avoidance fails to respond to the person who is hurting. Self-agency informs sufferers that their own action or inaction is causing the pain, e.g., You must pray more. Positivity places the onus on the distressed to be optimistic, believing this will change the circumstances, e.g., Trust that God has something for you just around the corner.

Image: Taiki Ishikawa

The emphasis on God being a minister is essential if we are to abstain from unhelpful responses. It expands our perception of God beyond the narrow view of problem solving. When God is perceived as a minister, our perception moves beyond the image of a genie who grants my wishes. It surpasses the restricted depiction of a mechanic who fixes my car or a lifeguard who rescues me from drowning. While the concept of God being a minister may include those aspects in a limited way, it is more. God is a minister who comes close to those experiencing any kind of death. And now God invites us to join God in this healing place.

But more than a change in perception, we need the power of the Spirit to be present to hurting persons and to refrain from avoidance, self-agency, and positivity. We require the Spirit’s power to have courage and strength to sit amidst uncertainty and ambiguity with those in despair rather than fleeing from or fixing them. We need to be empowered by the Spirit so that we are exhibiting the Spirit’s fruit, not blame and shame. We must have the power and presence of the Spirit to be present to those in pain in a similar way that God is present to them. Through our act of ministry of presence, the hurting then may see that God’s healing presence is with them, strengthening and upholding them. And that is ministry, which is both being and action.

Further Reading

Pentecostal Encounters with Suffering: an interview with Pamela F. Engelbert

A Visible Unity: Cecil Robeck and the Work of Ecumenism is a revised version of Josiah Baker’s dissertation, written under the supervision of Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen at Fuller Theological Seminary’s Center for Advanced Theological Studies. In this book, Baker argues that methods of ecumenical work express a shared ecclesiology among churches, and that as these methods evolve, the ecclesiologies of churches working together converge. To support his thesis, Baker traces the thought and contributions of Pentecostal historian and ecumenist Cecil “Mel” Robeck throughout his years of involvement in the ecumenical movement, demonstrating how specific ecumenical methodologies have led to ecclesiological convergence among divergent groups. This is a novel approach in that Baker chooses a single person who participates in multiple ecumenical initiatives as his locus of inquiry, rather than analyzing multiple persons or ideas related to a single initiative (9). Additionally, Baker’s choice of a Pentecostal voice confronts prejudices within the field of ecumenics that have excluded, dismissed, or marginalized Pentecostals, thereby allowing Robeck’s contributions to interrogate the presuppositions that have led to such a position. One of Baker’s stated goals for his book is to “canonize Robeck as one of the most influential leaders of the ecumenical movement as it entered its second century” (xi).

The chapters draw on Robeck’s publications, personal interviews with the author, and his documented participation in ecumenical initiatives. Each chapter, from chapter 2 on, focuses on a particular ecumenical methodology. Methods include reconciling memories, conciliarity, bilateral dialogue, spiritual ecumenism, and Christian forums. In chapter 1, Baker divides Robeck’s ecclesiology into three fundamental dimensions: (1) the church as a divine initiative with God as the source of its unity and power to pursue unity, (2) the church as a historical community that inherits Tradition but is also subject to social forces, and (3) the church as the people of God that cannot exist apart from all its members (28). This ecclesiological framework informs Robeck’s thought and participation, which Baker analyzes in the subsequent chapters. Chapter 2 considers how Robeck’s ecclesiology comes to bear in his work on the Azusa Street Revival, the topic for which he is most widely recognized. Such work reflects hopes of achieving racial reconciliation through the reconciliation of shared memories, enabling racially divided churches to see themselves as part of the same story and community.

Chapter 3, on conciliarity, recognizes Robeck’s role in expanding the World Council of Churches (WCC) through his participation in various assemblies and consultations as a Pentecostal. Baker argues that the methodological shift in how the WCC pursues relations with Pentecostals directly resulted from Robeck’s work as co-chair of the Joint Consultative Group at the Harare Assembly in 1998 (100–101). Bilateral Dialogue is the subject of Chapter 4. This method creates opportunities for divergent churches to discuss issues that divide them as equals, converging in their ecclesiologies around elements of a common Tradition. Examples come from Robeck’s involvement in the Catholic-Pentecostal, Reformed-Pentecostal, and Lutheran-Pentecostal dialogues.

In Chapter 5, Baker leverages Robeck’s Pentecostal identity and Patristics scholarship to understand his affinity with spiritual ecumenism. This method, which relies on shared spiritual practices, creates a bridge between Pentecostalism and other confessions, as Pentecostals also make claims of apostolicity based on the practice of charismatic gifts, not only in the New Testament but also in the Patristic period. Finally, Chapter 6 explores one of the newest ecumenical methodologies: Christian forums. Baker acknowledges Robeck’s central role in pioneering this methodology through the Global Christian Forum (GCF). The GCF was created as a common space for dialogue outside of existing church or ecumenical bodies, with at least half of the participants coming from non-WCC member churches. Informed by his Pentecostal heritage, Robeck proposed incorporating testimonies into the form. Although initially rejected, the GCF eventually adopted the practice. Baker finds that ecclesiological convergence in Christian forums occurs through testimonies, as the sharing of stories fosters recognition of the Christian other as a fellow believer.

A Visible Unity is excellently written and remarkably well-organized. Baker is meticulous in the way he structures each chapter and section, reinforcing his thesis at each seam of his argument. The result is a coherent and easy-to-follow presentation. The Introduction will be difficult for readers new to ecumenics due to its theoretical density. However, this is to be expected from a project that began as a dissertation. With many important definitions and distinctions, non-specialists will need to slow their pace before continuing to Chapter 1. After the Introduction, though, readers will notice that Baker’s prose lightens up considerably.

This is a novel contribution that centers the work of a Pentecostal ecumenist, a label some might consider a paradox. Although Baker does well to acknowledge this tension, he could have commented on additional reasons Pentecostals are averse to ecumenism, such as suspicions rooted in premillennial dispensational interpretations of apocalyptic passages in the Bible. This added background would not only help non-Pentecostal readers better understand prevalent Pentecostal attitudes toward ecumenism, but it would also help eschew broad-brushed assumptions about Pentecostals and their eschatology by showing that Robeck, though unabashedly classical Pentecostal, does not share those same suspicions. Still, the portrait Baker paints of Robeck sufficiently illuminates and nuances ecumenical and Pentecostal discourse. I recommend A Visible Unity to seminarians and specialists who are interested in ecumenics, Pentecostal studies, systematic theology, and missiology.

Reviewed by Jacob A. Palma

Publisher page: https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/visible-unity-9781978717206/

Discover more from Mel Robeck at PneumaReview.com

Aída Besançon Spencer’s The Exegetical Process offers a comprehensive, step-by-step guide to New Testament exegesis designed primarily for seminary students and undergraduate biblical studies programs. The work systematically addresses each stage of the exegetical task—from initial text selection and translation through historical-cultural analysis, grammatical-syntactical investigation, literary context, theological synthesis, and contemporary application. What distinguishes Spencer’s handbook from others in the field is its granular level of procedural detail, complete with assessment rubrics for each exegetical component, and an extensive collection of reference charts, tables, and resource lists designed to support students through every phase of research and writing.

The Exegetical Process enters a well-established field of exegetical handbooks, positioning itself alongside Gordon Fee’s now-classic New Testament Exegesis and other methodological guides that have served generations of students. Spencer, an experienced New Testament scholar and professor emerita at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, brings considerable pedagogical expertise to this task. The result is a highly structured, mechanically precise guide that will prove valuable for certain learning contexts while simultaneously raising questions about its broader applicability.

The volume’s most distinctive contribution lies precisely where Spencer intends it: in its relentlessly systematic, step-by-step approach. Unlike many exegetical handbooks that describe the interpretive process in more general terms, Spencer provides exhaustive detail at each stage, breaking down complex exegetical tasks into discrete, manageable components. For instructors seeking to demystify biblical exegesis for beginning students—particularly those lacking strong backgrounds in hermeneutics or biblical languages—this granular approach offers genuine advantages.

Most notably, Spencer includes detailed grading rubrics for each component of the exegetical process. This feature distinguishes The Exegetical Process from its competitors and addresses a genuine pedagogical need. Seminary and Bible college instructors often struggle to communicate assessment expectations clearly, and students frequently complain about the opacity of grading criteria for exegesis papers. Spencer’s rubrics provide concrete standards, specifying what constitutes exemplary, adequate, or deficient work at each stage. This transparency serves both fairness and learning outcomes, helping students understand not merely what to do but how well they should do it.

Additionally, Spencer enriches the volume with numerous reference charts, graphs, and tables that function as practical tools throughout the exegetical process. These include terminological glossaries, taxonomies of grammatical and syntactical categories, lists of ancient sources (including extrabiblical Jewish and Greco-Roman literature), curated bibliographies of contemporary scholarly resources organized by exegetical topic, and visual aids for discourse analysis and semantic mapping. These reference materials transform the handbook from mere procedural guide into a portable research companion. For students unfamiliar with the landscape of New Testament scholarship or uncertain about which lexicons, commentaries, or databases to consult, these lists provide invaluable orientation. The charts on rhetorical devices, figures of speech, and argumentative structures offer quick-reference tools that students can apply directly to their textual analysis. This apparatus represents a significant practical contribution that extends the book’s utility beyond its methodological instruction.

However, the volume’s strengths paradoxically generate its most significant limitations. Spencer’s approach is markedly idiosyncratic, reflecting her particular pedagogical preferences and methodological commitments in ways that may not translate well across different institutional contexts or learning environments. While the exegetical terrain she covers substantially overlaps with Fee’s New Testament Exegesis—textual criticism, translation, historical-cultural background, lexical-syntactical analysis, theological interpretation, and contemporary application—her specific procedures and emphases often diverge in ways that seem arbitrary rather than methodologically motivated.

The step-by-step format, while initially appealing, risks fostering a mechanical, almost formulaic approach to biblical interpretation. Exegesis is fundamentally an art as much as a science, requiring interpretive judgment, synthetic thinking, and the ability to recognize which questions matter most for a given text. Spencer’s highly structured methodology may inadvertently obscure this reality, training students to follow prescribed steps rather than develop interpretive discernment. The danger is producing students who can execute exegetical procedures competently but struggle to think like exegetes—to recognize when standard approaches require modification, when certain steps deserve more or less attention, or how the various analytical stages integrate into a coherent interpretive argument.

Moreover, Spencer’s idiosyncratic details sometimes seem to reflect personal preference rather than exegetical necessity. Experienced instructors who have developed their own effective approaches may find Spencer’s specific requirements constraining rather than helpful. The risk is that the volume’s utility becomes tied too closely to adopting Spencer’s entire system rather than serving as a flexible resource that instructors can adapt to their particular contexts and emphases.

Gordon Fee’s New Testament Exegesis remains, in this reviewer’s judgment, the more helpful resource for most contexts. Now in its third edition, Fee’s handbook has proven its staying power precisely because it avoids Spencer’s level of prescriptive detail. Fee provides a clear, comprehensive overview of the exegetical task while maintaining sufficient flexibility for instructors to adapt his approach to their particular pedagogical goals and institutional contexts. His discussion is more discursive, offering methodological rationale alongside practical guidance, helping students understand not merely how to do exegesis but why particular procedures matter.

Fee also demonstrates greater sensitivity to the diversity of New Testament genres, providing genre-specific guidance that recognizes how exegetical priorities shift when moving from gospel narrative to Pauline argumentation to apocalyptic literature. Spencer’s more uniform approach, while simpler to follow, may not adequately prepare students for the genre-sensitivity that mature exegesis requires.

Furthermore, Fee’s integration of exegetical method with broader hermeneutical reflection provides students with a more robust theological framework for their interpretive work. Spencer’s focus on procedure, while pedagogically valuable, offers less guidance on the theological and hermeneutical questions that ultimately shape how one approaches the biblical text.

This is not to suggest that The Exegetical Process lacks value. For specific contexts—particularly undergraduate Bible programs, introductory seminary courses, or institutions where students arrive with minimal interpretive training—Spencer’s detailed scaffolding and explicit assessment rubrics may prove extremely beneficial. The volume could serve effectively as a supplementary text alongside Fee or other handbooks, with instructors selectively utilizing Spencer’s rubrics and detailed guidance for particular exegetical components while drawing on other resources for broader methodological perspective.

Spencer has produced a conscientious, pedagogically motivated handbook that reflects deep teaching experience and genuine concern for student learning. Her commitment to assessment clarity addresses a real need in biblical studies education. However, the volume’s idiosyncratic character and methodologically prescriptive approach limit its broader utility. Instructors should carefully evaluate whether Spencer’s specific system aligns with their pedagogical goals and institutional context before adopting it wholesale.

For most seminary and graduate programs seeking a comprehensive, methodologically sound, and pedagogically flexible exegetical handbook, Gordon Fee’s New Testament Exegesis remains the superior choice. Spencer’s The Exegetical Process offers a valuable alternative for specific teaching contexts but seems unlikely to displace Fee as the standard reference in the field.

Reviewed by Rick Wadholm Jr

Publisher’s page: https://www.kregel.com/biblical-studies/the-exegetical-process/

This book is the latest release in Paul Hattaway’s “China Chronicles” series. Each book is published not only in English but also in Chinese, the author’s intent in writing them is “primarily to bless and encourage the persecuted church in China” (page xii). Thousands of copies of these books are distributed for free in the house church networks in China (xii). Those of us in the West reap the benefit of being able to read this important Chinese Christian history.

As the title indicates, this present volume focuses on the province of Fujian. Fujian Province is located along the southeastern coast of China (pages v, 1). As of 2020 it had a population of 41,540,086 (page vi). Fujian has over 2,200 islands and has the greatest forests of any Chinese province, 63% of the land is forests (page 2).

While different ethnic groups live in the province the majority of the population are Han Chinese, making up 98.3% of the population (page vi). The people in Fujian speak a number of different Chinese dialects and languages that are very different from Mandarin, which is the national language (page vii). Some people from Fujian Province have moved to other Asian countries including Singapore, Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines (page vii). The residents of Fujian are more religious than the people of many provinces in China (page 9), they honor a number of different deities (page 10).

Chuxi Tulou cluster in Fujian Province.
Image: via WikiMedia Commons.

The gospel was introduced in Fujian Province over 1,000 years ago by the Nestorians (page 11). The Catholic Church established itself in the province in the 1300s and about 500 years later Evangelicals came into Fujian (page 11). The gospel message had to overcome significant challenges, securing a foothold in the province in the 19^th century (page 11). However, the province was home to two well-known Christian ministers: John Sung and Watchman Nee (page 11). Although from the 1980s until the present day the province has not had the powerful revival accounts of other parts of China, it does have some notable statistics. There are about 5.8 million Christians (Catholics and Evangelicals) in the province (page 12). This is 14.7 % of the people who live there, this places it 5^th among all the Chinese provinces (page 12). The church in Fujian has had to deal with a lack of Bibles and the challenge of cults (page 12).

The book is comprised of chapters devoted to different decades, key events, and important individuals (pages ix, x). Catholics and Evangelicals are included in the book. Like the other books in the “China Chronicles” series, this present volume also contains pictures throughout the text and appendixes at the end of the book. The appendixes include important facts and figures about the people of Fujian, what may be of particular interest to readers is the attention given to the Christian population in the province.

Misty Morning in Xiamen, China
Image: Jay Huang

In the book the author writes about various missionaries who labored in Fujian. As we begin to consider some of them, I will start by mentioning two men and two women who are among the lesser-known missionaries. These missionaries are: John Wolfe, Amy Oxley-Wilkinson, Margaret Barber, and Leland Wang. There are also others that I did not mention who are included in the book. Those that I did mention each have a chapter devoted to them.

John Wolfe was an Irishman who served in Fujian for 53 years (pages 67-68). He was highly respected by the Chinese believers who referred to him as “The Fujian Moses,” because of their respect for him and his long beard (page 68). In time three of Wolfe’s daughters served in Fujian as missionaries (pages 68-69).

Amy Oxley-Wilkinson, came from a well-to-do family, she left that to serve the physical and spiritual needs of the Chinese, and she had a particular burden for blind children (pages 127, 129). She received the highest honor a foreigner could then receive in China, The Order of the Golden Grain, awarded by the Republic of China’s president (page 132).

Margaret Barber was born in England (page 146), a good part of her ministry was hidden because she gave herself to intercession, but she was highly regarded by some of the most well-known Christian leaders of the time (pages 145-146). She began her ministry as an Anglican missionary but later became an independent missionary (pages 146, 148). She had an impact on a well-known Christian leader mentioned in the book, that person was Watchman Nee (page 152).

Leland Wang was a Chinese national who emerged as a leader in the church in Fujian Province (page 155). He evangelized on the streets and founded the “Chinese Foreign Missionary Union” (page 158). He preached in a number of places around the world and established churches in: “the United States, Canada, Europe, and the Middle East” (page 158).

Two names that many western readers may know that are mentioned in Fujian: The Blessed Province are John Sung and Watchman Nee. They each have two chapters devoted to them in the book (page 11).

John Sung was the son of a Methodist preacher and participated with his father in ministry (page 167). The 1909 Putian (Hinghwa) Revival had a big impact on him (page 167). His ministry was relatively brief. Hattaway, citing a quote of Paul Kauffman, calls our attention to the fact that Sung’s public ministry was only 15 years long (page 166), yet his impact was significant. He ministered not only in Fujian Province but in many other Chinese provinces as well (page 167).

Fujian: The Blessed Province, like the other books in the “China Chronicles” series, is rich in information. It demonstrates to us that God’s work is carried forward by well-known Christians and little-known Christians. As each one faithfully does their part this contributes to the overall growth of the gospel. The lives of the Chinese believers offer us both inspiration and challenge. And they show us what God can do with yielded and obedient servants.

Reviewed by John Lathrop

From the Asia Harvest website: https://www.asiaharvest.org/bookstore/Fujian-The-Blessed-Province-The-China-Chronicles-N%C2%BA9-p752236177

Further Reading

Li Shiguang, “Marking Rev. John Sung’s 120th Birthday, Pastor Edwin Su Wenfeng Urges Chinese Christians to Carry on the Fire of Revival” China Christian Daily (November 9, 2021).

“1909 Hinghwa Revival” Romans1015.com

The title of Philip Esler’s New Testament Theology is ill-chosen. Although the book provides a good introduction to a number of aspects that qualify the task of writing a New Testament theology, the book itself is not a New Testament theology by any stretch. At most, it is a highly selective prolegomenon to the task of “doing” New Testament theology. That is not to say, however, that the book is not worthwhile to read—it is simply to say that readers will have to look elsewhere if they really want a New Testament theology.

One of the better features of this book is its discussion of the New Testament’s indebtedness to a dualistic anthropology, which is especially welcome in light of the current trend to argue that the New Testament’s anthropology is really fundamentally monistic. Esler exposes the shortcomings of the numerous attempts to sell readers on a monistic anthropology through a highly selective and tendentious reading of certain passages. (In the process, he also shows that Rene Descartes is not the extreme dualist he is often painted to be by today’s Enlightenment-bashers.)

Esler also steers clear of another trendy but misguided conceit when he affirms the intentionalist hermeneutic basic to the New Testament. But his chief argument in support of authorial intention, I think, is an unnecessary complication of what should be a much more straightforward task: he invokes the idea of the “communion of the saints” in order to say that we owe the “saints” enough respect to listen to what they intend (present tense), and not just what their texted artifacts can be made to say on the basis of a strong misreading. This is an intriguing argument, but it is rather circuitous and perhaps even costly in terms of commitments. Why not just say that we should look for what the author intended because the purpose of their writing in the first place was to convey an intention?

Reviewed by John C. Poirier

Originally published on the Pneuma Foundation (parent organization of PneumaReview.com) website. Later included in the Fall 2025 issue.

How long did God expect prophecy to function in the church?

The Duration of Prophecy: How Long Will Prophecy Be Used in the Church?  (Part 1) from the Spring 2001 issue.

The Duration of Prophecy: How Long Will Prophecy Be Used in the Church?  (Part 2) from the Summer 2001 issue.

The Duration of Prophecy: How Long Will Prophecy Be Used in the Church?  (Part 3) from the Fall 2001 issue.

“The Duration of Prophecy” is Chapter 12 from the 2000 revised edition of The Gift of Prophecy in the New Testament and Today by Wayne A. Grudem.

Later included in the Fall 2025 issue.

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.

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).

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

Frazee’s book started off with three forewords; one by Larry Crabb, George Gallup Jr. and Dallas Willard. Its back cover contained words of praise from Willard, Ken Blanchard, J. I. Packer, Marshall Shelly and John C. Maxwell. I was impressed as I began to get familiar with the book.

I learned that the author Randy Frazee is an emerging leader, the senior pastor at the Pantego Bible Church in Arlington, Texas, that he collaborates with George Gallup Jr. and is a regular speaker at Willow Creek Association Conferences. The back flap advised that Frazee has developed the Christian Life Profile, a practical tool to measure a person’s spiritual development in thirty specific areas.

Frazee develops our common need for community by introducing his readers to a fictitious but very real couple named Bob and Karen Johnson who attend his large church but nonetheless are lonely as they hurtle through life pursuing the American dream of house, cars, college educated children, social status and of course a meaningful relationship with their creator.

Dream fulfillment is accelerated as Bob and Karen both work on impressive career paths and fit everything one should and has to do into seven 24 days. A small group could and did not provide the relationships Bob and Karen needed to mature into the Godly design they knew they were to pursue.

The solution proposed by the author was for the Johnson’s to step back and down. Get rid of the big house with grass lawns so expansive they hindered getting to know the neighbors. Stop chasing the dream and seek community within a small community that was easier to afford and allowed time to live a life not seek one.

Our fictitious couple ended up in a connected life which affords them all they were missing as they pursued the good life. The connected life is the life we need and want; at least it is to Frazee’s present perspective.

Frazee uses the first century church described in Acts as his model. He urges that the connectedness that they enjoyed was the key to their success. The Johnson family ended up after experiencing neighborhood group community life for two years convinced that they would never go back to the individualistic isolated life style of consumerism that had governed their lives for thirty years. They finally recognized that they had come a long way in their quest to learn more about Christ and to be more like him. The mysteries of the authentic Christian community would take a life time to learn and the Johnson’s signed up for the duration. My best to Frazee but I will keep my present residence and stay where I am.

Reviewed by H. Murray Hohns

This book review by the late Pastor Mur was originally published in 2007 at the Pneuma Foundation (parent organization of PneumaReview.com) website. Later included in the Fall 2025 issue.

‘Preaching is the bringing of truth through personality,’ stated Phillips Brooks, the former rector of Trinity Church in Boston and later Episcopal bishop of Massachusetts who lived from 1835 to 1893, to the original listeners of his now famous lectures on preaching at Yale College.[1] Many preachers and homileticians have quoted his definition ever since. But what does it actually mean? Charles W. Fuller, pastor of Bethany Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky and adjunct professor of Expository Preaching at Boyce College of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, examines Brooks’ sermons, lectures, and writings in an attempt to find out exactly.

The author forthrightly states the main thesis of his book in its introduction: “This book assesses, from an evangelical perspective, Brooks’s [sic] classic definition of preaching as ‘truth through personality’ and, after pinpointing its substantial weaknesses, salvages the concept by reconstructing it with solidly evangelical doctrines (p. xviii).

Though Fuller claims to write as an evangelical, the non-Calvinistic reader soon begins to wonder with what form of evangelicalism does the author identify himself? Since he serves as an adjunct professor Boyce College of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, it seems safe to assume he alludes to those Calvinistic evangelicals who consider themselves the only true proclaimers of the pure unadulterated gospel of Jesus Christ. The Southern Baptist Seminary has become known in recent years as a bastion of high or five-point Calvinism. Since Brooks tended to lean away from high Calvinism, even to the point of questioning the teaching of what is now known as eternal security (a distinctive doctrine of the church Fuller pastors), this reviewer wonders if this is the reason Fuller accuses Brooks of unorthodoxy?

Over all, the book tends to be blatantly negative of Brooks, as the author frankly admits and laments. A major concern for Fuller is his belief that Brooks emphasized the importance of personality over truth. He alleges Brooks did so because of his less than evangelical theology, the influence of the teaching of evolution and higher criticism in his day, and his wide reading of philosophic Romantic literature. He especially takes exception to what he perceives as Brooks’ emphasis on Jesus’ example over His atonement.

Fuller contends three problems confront any academic study of Brooks: his popularity, his ambiguity, and his idealism (pp. xxi-xxii). Brooks was an immensely popular preacher in his day. By his own admission, Brooks felt he was at his best when he spoke in general rather than in specific terms.[2] And Brooks was a product of Romanticism to some extent with its emphasis on feelings over the facts of faith. But Fuller makes Brooks into more or less a liberal in his day. He does so by evaluating Brooks’ theology in four areas: biblicism, crucicentrism, conversionism, and activism (to use Fuller’s own categories). He finds Brooks deficient on every evangelical scale he proposes. He never seems to give Brooks the benefit of the doubt. He apparently finds little, if anything, to admire in the man or his ministry, although many people in Brooks’ own day felt decidedly positive toward him.

For instance, Fuller often quotes what appear to be clear affirmations of evangelical theology by Brooks only to turn right around and explain them away. This unusual methodology gives the impression Brooks could not do or say anything right in the mind of Fuller.