Francis MacNutt has written an insightful book about how the ministry of healing has been greatly diminished in the Church for centuries (almost 1600 hundred years!). Healing was a major part of the ministry of Jesus and His disciples, the record of which takes up about a third of the Gospels, not to mention the book of Acts. Throughout, MacNutt emphasizes the importance of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, not just for healing ministry, but for every ministry.

MacNutt shows how healing ministry flourished for the first three centuries, and was then sidelined by nominal Christianity beginning with the Constantinian era. He details how ecclesiastical structures and the developing clergy/laity distinction quickly began to remove healing ministry from the hands of the people—it became a work for the “super-spiritual,” and few could qualify to perform it (some of the Desert Fathers, for example). Healing shortly became the province of relics and shrines—and the clergy no longer had to deal with embarrassing questions when healings did not occur at their hands.

He also talks about how the purpose of God’s love and compassion in healing had been severely neglected in the intervening centuries. Healing ministry became viewed strictly as a validation of truth, but was no longer necessary for faith. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” became the watchword, and interest in the display of God’s love through healing fell by the way.

MacNutt discusses how the Platonic split between body and soul, and the severe doctrines of the Manichees (i.e. the intrinsic evil of the flesh, and especially of sexuality) further eviscerated the ministry of healing. During the middle ages, the development of the “divine right of kings” generated “the Royal Touch,” and healing ministry was limited, by law, to the monarchs of England and France.

Although a committed Roman Catholic, MacNutt believes that the Reformation did not extend far enough in its scope—the Reformers continued to ignore the reality of healing ministry. Oh, they recognized that there had once been such a thing in Jesus’ day, but now that time was past, and the ministry had ceased. So much for reformation!

But all along the way, there have been healing ministers and ministries among the people, arising in times of revival and when people were desperate for a healing touch from God. In the last 300 hundred years there have been some glimpses of healing ministry arising again, then faltering. Then it began trending upward in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, mostly among the pentecostally inclined. These came to include the charismatic and “third wave” movements late in the mid-to-late 1900s, about which MacNutt writes from personal experience (the appendix is a testimony of how he received the baptism, or “release” of the Holy Spirit, into his life and ministry).

Bill Hull, “It’s Just Not Working” Leadership (Summer 2005), pages 26-28.

Bill Hull challenges the philosophical foundation upon which many ministries are based. We live today in a world where the church attendance number—that one number—allegedly speaks volumes about that church, its leaders, and its mission. The undue importance of that number should be seriously questioned.

Many pastors today, including myself, struggle with the ideals emphasized by the megachurch movement that has spread over the last two decades. Viewing church size alone as an indicator of success is a deception planted in minds of church leaders by a spiritual being who wishes to see the body of Christ fall.

We were stuck in the same rut that so many churches find themselves in—religious activity without real transformation.

It is refreshing to hear a leader such as Bill openly admit the spiritual struggles facing many church leaders. It is inspiring to listen to his story unfold as he makes commitments to change his philosophy and not go back. That is an example many of us younger pastors need. I applaud Bill Hull for accepting his internal struggle and working through it at a time when many leaders simply rely on the external trappings of success. To embrace the truth and commit to change may bring challenges and uncertainties, but it also transforms.

Bill’s main question to contemporary ministries is why? Why do we do what we do? Why do we do it the way we do? I can personally point to many instances where the church I serve in struggles to make disciples versus administrating programs intended to do just that. Let me give an example. There is a man who I’ll call Bob who has attended church for years with his wife and kids. He is a leader in the church that has served on committees. He and his wife are involved in Sunday worship services and his kids have attended youth programs since birth. And then all of a sudden his wife left him. They are now divorced and their teenage kids are left with a shaky spiritual foundation at best.

How does this happen? How does a family have so many “externals” going for them and yet fail to live like Christ? Bill Hull explains, “I told [my] church that the Great Commission is more about depth than strategy, and being spiritually transformed is the primary and exclusive work of the church. I told them believing the right things is not enough – being a Christian means actually following Jesus.”

We have lost this. The church has traded in the life that Christ calls us to live for an outward image. A family involved in the externals of church service and pew sitting can still lack the life of Christ within. A family that honors Christ is stronger than any other.

Part 1 of 2

Introduction

In 1985 Dave Hunt, a lay cult watcher, published one of the most influential books of the 1980s, The Seduction of Christianity.¹ In that work he lambasted much of the leadership of the charismatic renewal for “seducing” the American Christianity with ideas and practices derived from occult sources. He attacked Mrs. Agnes Sanford and her writing with particular severity. Hunt claimed that her syncretistic theology was little more that witchcraft and shamanism, and should be totally rejected by the Christian community. Hunt was convinced that the ministry she pioneered, inner healing, was especially occultic and dangerous to Christians.²

In my work, Quenching the Spirit, I argued that such characterizations are destructive and untrue. Critics such as Hunt do not take into account the tragic situation within Nineteenth Century “orthodox” Christianity which labeled any form of healing prayer as cultic and heretical. The consensus orthodoxy of the era stressed the doctrine of cessationism, which also declared the gifts of the Spirit as unavailable in the current age. This theology combined with an unrecognized dependence on philosophical realism that came into both Catholicism and Protestantism from the late Middle Ages. The result was that the consensus orthodoxy of the era left no room for the role of the believer’s faith to move in healing prayer or in the gifts of the Spirit.³

An overview of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries shows a pattern in which the Holy Spirit moved the Church away from its cessationism-realism based theology. The Spirit simultaneously inspired different groups and individuals towards theologies that reincorporated the gifts of the Spirit. This allowed for a more active understanding of the role of mind, acting through faith in Christ, to activate the miraculous powers of the Kingdom of God. This was a move toward theologies based on moderate idealism, that is, that mind, with faith, can influence matter, as in healing and the miraculous, and away from theological systems based on radical realism where the Christian merely petitions that God act.⁴ A characteristic of faith-idealism is that physical evidence is of less immediate concern than the witness of the Word of God.

Messiah celebrates his final Passover on earth, teaching us much about His own identity as the Paschal Lamb.

And it came about that when Jesus had finished all these words, He said to His disciples, “You know that after two days the Passover is coming …” (Matthew 26:1-2a).¹

Passover: the overriding event in Israel at the time of Yeshua’s² crucifixion receives scant attention in the gospel accounts. Hundreds of thousands of fathers and husbands, often with their 12-year-old sons, would travel to Jerusalem to make the Paschal sacrifice required in Exodus 12. But in the period when Matthew was written, among the Jewish people, little needed to be said. Matthew’s audience was well acquainted with the traditions, symbols, and significance of Passover and the weeklong observance of the Feast of Unleavened Bread. For such an audience, Pesach—as Passover is called in the Hebrew—required no exposition.

2,000 years removed from Israel and the temple, from young innocent lambs and the ritual slaughter, from the weeklong observances of matzah bread and the inherently Hebraic perspective, our modern understanding and therefore, appreciation of events in Israel may be lacking.

In this section of The Secret Codes in Matthew: Examining Israel’s Messiah, we return to the root and core—the very foundation if you will—upon which the entire structure of redemption was built. This foundation—yesod in the Hebrew—is rich with imagery, and a testimony to the awesome foresight and design of its Great Architect, the Almighty Father, who built so firm a foundation. “Therefore thus says the Lord God, ‘Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a tested stone, A costly cornerstone for the foundation, firmly placed. He who believes in it will not be disturbed’” (Isaiah 28:16).

Every year, in Jewish homes around the globe, it is expected to not merely participate in the Seder, the order of service for Passover, but to engage in the observance as if actually participating in the events. May this be true for us as well, as we step into the culture and history of biblical Israel.

___

“You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man is to be delivered up for crucifixion” (Matthew 26:2).

Yeshua’s execution was a foregone conclusion. Not only had Yeshua told them on more than one occasion, 1 Peter 1:20 reminds us, “He was foreknown before the foundation of the world.” The plan of salvation had been set in motion long before Matthew, Moses, or Adam.

Yet with every perfect work of God, the Adversary of our souls contrives counterfeits to distract and derail men and women of otherwise good conscience. Out of this divine promise that “the Son of Man is to be delivered up for crucifixion” came the fabricated lie of the Jews as “Christ Killers,” a bitter root in Church history that has defiled too many for too long. This deceit became a rationalization for the Church to persecute the Jewish people and remains a blot on our religious history that should not be overlooked or forgotten.

As Jewish men, women, and children were marched into Nazi concentration camps, they read signs that said, “You killed our God, now we kill you.” Even today, some still live who read those signs in their lifetime and have endured “Christian” hatred.

An introduction to theology of religions:  Pentecostal/charismatic leaders cannot afford to ignore the fact of religious pluralism. How should we engage people of other religions in such a way as to share the love of Jesus without compromising the message?

Editors Notes: The Pneuma Review editorial committee asked Brother Richie to tell us about this paper and he said: “This article is a non-provocative but informative piece designed to introduce readers to the theology of religions and invite further reflection. I’ve done quite a bit of work in this area, including a forthcoming article in Pneuma: The Journal for the Society for Pentecostal Studies (Spring ‘06) and an American Academy of Religion panel discussion and presentation (Nov 21 ‘06). I know about the generally cautious attitude of many Pentecostal/charismatics toward ecumenism and/or theology of religions. In a sense, I am sort of that way myself. One of the reasons I thought of sharing this piece is because of its easy going but informative approach. Theology of religions is, whether we like it or not, forcing itself upon us in the face of rampant religious pluralism. We will have to deal with it sometime somehow.”

When I was growing up in a Pentecostal preacher’s family we pretty much had two groups of people in our community: Christians and non-Christians. Basically, that meant churchgoers and non-churchgoers because even the non-Christians had a more or less Christian belief background. Now I am a pastor myself but my how things have changed since Dad’s day! My church members have neighbors and co-workers who have religion enough all right but it is not Christian. Some of my parishioners even have friends or family of other faiths. Increased immigration and cross-cultural homogenization have helped make the United States a religiously diverse nation. ¹ Religious pluralism, in the sense of the reality of a plurality of religions among us, is a fact that must be faced by pastors and church leaders if we are to equip our people to deal with the religious diversity they encounter in their daily lives. The price of Pentecostals ignoring the problem of pluralism is too high to pay. We cannot afford the lost souls that could cost.

Developing a Pentecostal approach to Christians theology of religions has quickly become not only essential but also urgent. A seasoned Pentecostal scholar supplies a helpful definition of theology or religions, particularly Christian theology of religions.

Though extreme approaches unacceptable to most Pentecostals and Evangelicals do exist, the basic thrust of Christian theology of religions need not threaten us. Quite to the contrary, we need to account theologically for the existence of other religions and outline practically a manner of relating to their adherents. In this paper I overview our past attitudes and advance some options for the future if we are to face the challenge of religious pluralism in a mode that has compatibility with our Pentecostal identity.³

Pneuma Review Editor Raul Mock with Tony Richie at the 2014 Society for Pentecostal Studies convention.

The introduction of this review essay appeared in the Spring 2006 issue of Pneuma Review.

Phillip Duce and Daniel Strange, eds., Keeping the Balance: Approaching Theological And Religious Studies (Intervarsity Press, 2001), 238 pages, 9780851114828.

Approaching theological and religious studies at university-level can present Christians with some special challenges. Cherished beliefs will probably be called into question and deeply held convictions challenged in an intellectual environment that may prove ambivalent, or even rather hostile, to a biblically orthodox faith. In Keeping the Balance, seven substantial essays by seven Christian academics examine a number of issues that will be relevant to the Christian student—whether he or she is still thinking about taking his or her Christian studies to the university, or is already engaged in a degree.

The first thing to get clear from the outset is that Keeping your Balance isn’t a piece of scaremongery written to put people off taking theology! The authors are quick to affirm that theological study is a great adventure that offers some very real rewards—both to the individual who engages in it and the Church as a whole that benefits from an educated body of theologians in its ranks. It’s also an essential part of preparation for a solid Christian ministry. But we must be realistic: it’s a sceptical world out there, and many of the scholars that believers will brush up against in the book room, the lecture hall, and the tutorial, will approach the Bible and the Christian faith with a different set of presuppositions—and perhaps a pair of mean scissors in both hands! An unreflective, ill-prepared study of academic theology could undermine, rather than strengthen, the beliefs that form the very basis for Christian ministry, perhaps leaving students spiritually disorientated and incapable of fulfilling their originally intended vocation.

But the authors, whilst firmly countenancing these unpleasant facts, maintain that a “theological education, properly approached, need not have such undesirable results”. With some careful thinking about how students should deal with theological problems, maintain their devotional lives, and make use of all the information they are cramming into their heads every week, in practical and relevant ways, “keeping the balance” and successfully navigating the theological minefield is, in fact, quite possible. One of the recurring emphases throughout the book is the need for integrating one’s theological studies with one’s personal spiritual life, rather than holding them as far apart as possible. Whilst it may initially look like a “a recipe for disaster”, the authors are convinced that a healthy Christian life must be lived as an organic whole, not in a “Jekyll-and-Hyde” dichotomy! And that Christian devotional life, the Christian life of worship, and the Christian life of service, on the personal and the corporate levels, are all vital components of a sound Christian spirituality that must be kept up if students are to survive the course and emerge stronger and better equipped to reach the world.

Part of the Rightly Understanding God’s Word series by Craig S. Keener.

As appearing in Pneuma Review Spring 2006

Take a course on biblical interpretation with New Testament scholar, Professor Craig S. Keener.

The Reader’s “Social Location”

For those of us who embrace the Bible as God’s Word, our goal is always to hear what God was saying in Scripture. Because we believe God inspired the authors, we look for that meaning first of all in what God inspired the original writers to say to their original audiences. However else a text might be applied, it is the original meaning we can be sure was correct, and that provides us the model for how to apply Scripture in our own situations today.

Some students of literature have moved away from the question of what the author meant to the question of how a reader understands a text. Although we do not emphasize that question here (our primary goal for interpreting the Bible is understanding what the author meant, because we believe the Bible’s authors were inspired by the Holy Spirit), it is an interesting question and has some relevance. Different readers understand texts in different ways, and that is often because of the cultures and traditions we start with. Being sensitive to this issue can help us better understand why people interpret texts the way they do. Sometimes it can even expose our own prejudices or ideas we simply took for granted because we assumed that everyone thought the same way.

For example, a minister in a church that practices infant baptism may read about the baptism of the jailer’s “household” (Acts 16:33) and see a proof for infant baptism here. Someone who practices only believer’s baptism will object that we do not know that the jailer’s household included infants and that they all seem to have heard and believed (16:31-32). In modern biblical debates, everyone reads chosen passages in light of other passages they believe support their viewpoint. This is not to say that we should not try to make a better case for one position than another, but simply to observe that we most naturally incline to positions we have been taught. Recognizing the history of various lines of interpretation can help us guard against bias in the way we read the Bible. Church history is a very important safeguard in helping us put our own views in broader perspective. We can recognize the background of our own views and consider how this background influences us for good or ill. We can also challenge ourselves: how “obvious” is a view of a Bible passage if no one in history ever thought of it before? (This is not to say that majority views in church history are always correct, either. Sometimes those majorities simply reflect the cultures of those Christians writing down most of the interpretations! But church history does help us be more cautious.)

Recognizing different backgrounds (“social locations”) of various interpreters can also enrich the way we read the Bible. People in different settings ask different kinds of questions than people in other circumstances do, so we can sometimes learn from people who ask different questions as long as we follow the rules of context noted above. For example, Medieval European theologians focused on what the Bible says about issues like the nature of God, Christ, salvation, and angels. These questions are legitimate (and issues like Christ and salvation are central to the New Testament and to Christianity), but a believer who is beaten every day while working as a debt slave in Pakistan will also want to hear what the Bible says about justice, about suffering, and about comfort. The questions do not contradict one another, and both may come to legitimate conclusions; the Bible is big enough to address both kinds of issues.

James K.A. Smith, Introducing Radical Orthodoxy: Mapping a Post-secular Theology (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2004), 291 pages.

Post-modernism is a philosophical perspective many Christians are now embracing in order to overcome the debilitating effects of modernity on the Christian church. What is refreshing about James Smith’s book is that he questions whether this approach is as helpful for Christian theology as it first appears. In fact, Smith proposes that post-modernism is in reality a continuation of the modernist project. This book offers an overview of the place of radical orthodoxy (RO) within the context of a post-secular/post-modern theological landscape. His aim is to draw together the thematic strands of RO in order to appraise its contributions to the theological enterprise and critique the misaligned assurance in the supposed neutrality of the modernist and post-modernist paradigms.

The book is divided into two sections. The first provides a map for understanding RO within the context of current theological trends. Smith suggests that four theological schools of thought have come to prominence. (1) The correlationist project emerged out of Tübingen (Germany) and made its way into the US through Union Theological Seminary (NY), The University of Chicago Divinity School (Chicago) and even ironically the fundamentalist school Dallas Theological Seminary (Dallas). This approach tries to correlate revelation with cultural, political and economic systems, and assumes the neutrality and universally accessible methods of the so-called “secular” sciences. (2) The Revelationist school is Barthian at root and has made its way from Basel (Switzerland) to Yale Divinity School (New Haven), Princeton (NJ) and Duke University (Durham, NC). This school highlights the antithesis between the gospel and culture, and therefore subverts all secular frameworks. The tendency in the Revelationist approach, though, is to jettison the secular sciences as irrelevant and focus exclusively on revelation claims. (3) The Neo-Calvinist school emerged in Amsterdam and has made its way into Calvin College (Grand Rapids) and the Institute for Christian Studies (Toronto). This approach represents an early post-secular critique, which is deeply suspicious of secular methods for arriving at knowledge and calls into questions the “sacred” tenets of modernity. (4) Finally, the Cambridge phenomenon of RO likewise emphasizes the antithesis between revelation and culture, but unlike the Barthian project’s abandonment of the secular, RO maintains there is no secular because even these methods presuppose faith commitments. For radical orthodoxy, all nature and culture is graced, but in need of redemptive transformation. RO is therefore critical of post-modernism because it is in reality a continuation of modernity.

Smith then outlines the theological contours of RO, which includes an ecumenism that transcends confessional boundaries, a retrieval of pre-modern sources and a hermeneutical disposition that seeks to be unapologetically confessional. Moreover RO is critical of modernity as a flawed system, because it reduces truth to a single system based on a notion of universal reason; RO is post-secular in the sense that it identifies secular reason as myth; as a theological movement it emphasizes participation and materiality, meaning that creation has to be understood as participating in and suspended from transcendence. This position fights against modernist and post-modernist notions that the world is self-contained and therefore without the need for the divine. In other words, nihilism (e.g. lack of transcendence) is questioned because it assumes that the universe is isolated and self-supporting. RO also emphasizes the sacramental, liturgical and aesthetic modes of worship as a consequence of the incarnation and participation in the divine. Finally, RO offers a cultural critique of the world in the hope for its redemptive transformation in all areas of language, history and cultural. Throughout the discussion, Smith draws upon the Dutch Reformed tradition to voice his agreements and disagreements with RO, arguing that the two disciples would benefit from fruitful dialogue.

- AC

Response from Kevin M. Williams

Great comments. Let’s see if we can narrow in on the scope and turbulent history of the canon. In truth, the Roman Catholic canon is not the same as the Evangelical canon. But before anyone decides that was a byproduct of the Reformation, read on. What was once considered a “closed canon,” that is to say with nothing left to be added or deleted has had, from time to time, theological hands in the scriptural cookie jar. Most recently, for instance, the Church of Latter Day Saints opened the canon to add their own “sacred” texts known as the Book of Mormon.

On the other side of history is the Bryennios Manuscript, dated to around 100 AD. Written in Greek, Aramaic, and Hebrew with 27 Old Testament books including Jesus Nave, 2 of Esdras, and many of the books of the Septuagint.

Several other attempts were made to codify what books should be canon over the next two hundred years. Not until Eusebius, around 300 AD do we find something that comes close to what we recognize today as canon. But even so, such books as the Didache, Barnabas, Hebrews, Jude, Revelation, and the Apocalypse of Peter were disputed. As you can see, at least three in the list were later adopted (though in some camps, the debate continues over the author of Hebrews).

During the years of the Roman Catholic Church, the canon came to be what we know today, as well as the apocryphal books. By the time of the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther attempted to have the New Testament books of Hebrews, James, Jude, and Revelation removed and declared apocryphal. The original King James Bible of 1611 included the modern canon as well as the apocrypha, which was adopted whole-heartedly by the Church of England. Today, most Evangelical organizations reject the authority of any apocryphal texts.

The study of the canon of Scripture is a lengthy study, and requires far more than space here allows. That said, I would venture an opinion (which does not necessarily represent the views or opinions of the Pneuma Review).

Nothing, in my opinion, can replace reading and studying the Word, allowing it to interpret itself. Nevertheless, we are left with all of this traditional literature that was an important part of Jewish life and the early life of the Church, and can be dealt with in a way that edifies without compromising the Word of God.

Mark A. Noll, The Rise of Evangelicalism: The age of the Edwards, Whitefield, and the Wesleys, A History of Evangelicalism, People, Movements and Ideas in the English-Speaking World I (Downers Grove, IL: Inter Varsity Press, 2003).

This is a splendid book that I found to be very rewarding reading. It is well thought out and it is presented in a way that makes for easy reading, yet challenges the reader to think and reflect on how the era covered in the book relates to today’s challenges in evangelicalism. Noll is able to cover the first three hundred years of English-speaking evangelicalism by capturing landmark events in such a way that readers will feel as if they were present in the shaping of these events. The book is divided into nine chapters, which are well integrated so that the book flows from one important event and/or leader to another.

The world of evangelicalism is not easy to define. Noll begins his book with an over view of the “Landscapes: Political, Ecclesiastical, Spiritual” that shaped the evangelical movement. By the time the reader reaches the third chapter, “Revival, 1734-1738” and the fourth chapter, “Revival, Fragmentation, Consolidation, 1738-1745” the reader understands why the revival became the centerpiece of the movement. Noll writes, “The evangelical revivals were unusual, however, in their frequency, their publicity and their function as a replacement for discarded aspects of traditional religion. They never, however, charted a simple course.” Noll captures the greatest challenge of today’s evangelical movement; how to replace the discarded aspects of traditional religion (revival is rarely practiced in mainstream religion, but is now rarely practiced in evangelical circles), yet not become the very thing (institutionalized religion) which the movement is attempting to replace.

Noll makes the point that, “Over time it became clear that for evangelicalism to take root, the longing for revival was more important than revival itself.” Through out the book Noll underscores the importance of this point. The preaching featured in the awakenings, “was a preaching aimed directly at popular affections, expecting life-changing results, emphasizing the message of divine grace as the God-given remedy for sin and often (though not always) dispensing with elaborate ratiocination.” Leaders into today’s evangelical movement should pay particular attention to this point. Rather than becoming preoccupied with doctrines, rules, prohibitions, and developing a “closed mind,” the movement needs to seek to appeal to people’s affections and help draw closer to Christ. In helping to explain the growth of the movement; Noll observes that, “evangelical Christianity coexisted with the Enlightenment.” The movement did not agree with all aspects of the Enlightenment; however, it was able to effectively dialogue with it. Noll does not shy away from critical reflection of the movement and its leaders. He notes that John Wesley was in many ways a tyrant, yet Wesley helped the evangelical movement to grow by expanding the role of laymen and to some degree challenged the stratified social order.