Strangers To Fire: When Tradition Trumps Scripture, reviewed by Tony Richie

Robert W. Graves, ed., Strangers To Fire: When Tradition Trumps Scripture (Woodstock, GA: The Foundation for Pentecostal Scholarship, 2014), 604 pages, ISBN 9780996044509

A quick overview reveals that Strangers to Fire is an anthology of 35 essays edited by Robert W. Graves, President of The Foundation for Pentecostal Scholarship. These essays are written by 26 authors from across the spectrum of the Pentecostal, Charismatic, and Third Wave movements. This book represents the non-cessationist or, better, continuationist, view that the charismata (spiritual gifts) active in the New Testament Church are still authentically operative in contemporary times. Strangers to Fire is a specific response to John F. MacArthur’s (JFM) caustic polemical, Strange Fire, and a general response to cessationism (view that spiritual gifts have ceased), and the abuse of the charismata. It has a Foreword by J. Lee Grady, noted Charisma contributor. Authors include such notables as Wayne Grudem, Jack Deere, Craig Keener, Jon Ruthven, Sam Storms, Doug Oss, Mel Robeck, Paul Elbert, Randy Clark, Robert Menzies, J. P. Moreland, Gary Greig, Mark Rutland, Gary Shogren, William De Arteaga, William K. Kay, Melvin Hodges, and others.

I begin by noting some significant contributions of Strangers to Fire. Before getting started directly with that process, however, I want to say that I particularly appreciate its apt title. JFM drew on the depiction of Aaron’s sons in Leviticus 10:1 offering strange fire and consequently being consumed by the fire of divine judgment for their blasphemous action (cp. Numbers 3:4; 26:61). It’s difficult to escape JFM’s implication that Pentecostals and Charismatics are guilty of the same sin and will suffer the same end. However, one must not dismiss the reality of authentic divine fire in his chosen text. Therefore, the choice of Graves and his team to call their book Strangers to Fire is telling. Divine presence is often depicted in Scripture in association with holy fire, most notably in the tongues of fire in the paradigmatic Day of Pentecost event (Acts 2:1-4). Accordingly, Graves flips the quip back on JFM. Rather than Pentecostals and Charismatics offering some kind of “strange fire” offensive to God and inevitably suffering terrible consequences, perhaps cessationist strangers to the fire of God are missing an opportunity to encounter holy fire in God’s awesome presence through the Holy Spirit—and suffering the lack thereof accordingly. The subtitle is also telling. When Tradition Trumps Scripture implies that in spite of all claims by JFM et al to be the only honest representatives of biblical faith and truth in this debate, they may be allowing human traditionalism to override and undermine the scriptural witness to God’s work in our day.

In ancient Greek mythology, Zeus, so-called king of the gods, did not care much for humans so he sought to repress their success by keeping the power of fire from them. However, the god Prometheus loved human beings. Accordingly, he went against the will of Zeus, and secretly gave them the gift of fire, thereby empowering them forever. Zeus punished Prometheus severely for helping humans. Yet it was too late. They had the fire now and the power it brought to them continued. In Christian doctrine, God is no tyrannical divine being wishing to keep the fire from the Church. Doubtless, the devil doesn’t want the Church to be effective and powerful. In Christian doctrine, not some benevolent but small deity but rather the Lord Jesus Christ, sent in love by the Heavenly Father, suffered and died and rose again for us and for our salvation. Christ is the one who brought us the fire. Now the fire has come! It cannot be taken back! The power of the fire of the Holy Spirit of Pentecost burns today and cannot be extinguished.

Strangers to Fire offers a distinctly solid apologetic for the continuation of the charismata today. The issue is examined biblically, theologically, historically, and rationally. It has a delightfully expansive breadth. Wide ranging contributors cover almost any and every conceivable angle. Thus objections are examined and eliminated in a quite satisfactory manner. The cumulative effect of this method is that cessationism is stripped of any pseudo-credibility it may have once appeared to possess. The case for continuationism is exceedingly strong. Cessationism is exposed for its skewed commitment to a priori presuppositions predetermining its contrary conclusions. On this aspect alone Strangers to Fire can be highly recommended as an exhaustive and artful treatment of the issues of cessationism versus continuationism.

With the indisputable benefits of Strangers to Fire firmly in mind, at this point I wish to admit that I’ve given some consideration to whether we ought to even being doing this at all. Let me explain. Is all the attention to JFM either appropriate or productive? I wonder if so much attention to such a minor and obviously over-the-top perspective is the way to go. Why take this esoteric bunk so seriously? Hardly anyone agrees with it. Outside of a sliver of a slice of fundamentalists, on one hand, and of modernists, on the other hand, both simply different versions of anemic and arid anti-supernaturalism, arguments for cessationism are falling to the ground due to the weight of their own failure to measure up to sound exegetical and theological standards. So, why give MacArthur’s ilk any attention at all? Might it actually be counterproductive regression? Why go back and fight the same old battles all over again when the general consensus of most fair-minded believers is already affirming continuationism? It might even set us back in the eyes of a new generation. True, we certainly need to discuss together how continuationism may be best understood and what a mature charismology should look like; but, that is a far cry from infighting about cessationism versus continuationism. I’ll say more about this line of thought in a moment.

For the time being, I simply wish to wonder aloud about whether the avalanche of responses to JFM says more about us than it does about him. Perhaps it’s due more to our own continuing (no cessationism here!) insecurity in tandem with an overweening desire to vindicate ourselves in the eyes of others than it is anything else. As a third generation Pentecostal myself, I know that we tend to have a very high level of confidence in our experience oddly coupled with much less comfort in articulating it. But, of course, we keep trying. Mostly that’s a good thing but the polemical mode may not be the best manner to do it. And isn’t it ironic that more people have heard JFM’s offbeat views against us through our own publications than ever would have happened through his own venues? That might make us wonder some. Nevertheless, there are many important topics that Christians have been debating for centuries without any sign of abatement. It could be that this subject simply falls into that category too. Yet neither all opposition nor reactions to it are equally valid. Are we giving JFM more attention than he warrants? It’s entirely possible. Yet I don’t deny that to an extent it may be necessary. Perhaps JFM’s unprovoked attack set up a teachable moment for us all. However, even in such a contingency, a bit of balance might still be best.

I have a couple of other concerns too—a brief, basically methodological one, and a more extensive, primarily theological one. First, as much as I like this work in itself, that is, in terms of its contents, I perceive a certain incompleteness and/or unevenness in Strangers to Fire. It’s great to read under one cover pastors, teachers, apologists, theologians, administrators, and various churchmen and churchwomen (Oops! Okay, women are not included! Isn’t that sort of “strange” [pun intended] for a Pentecostal text of this kind?). Here the wonderful diversity of the Body of Christ comes to the fore with a refreshing vitality. Yet I felt bumped around a bit as I read from one to the other. The first major section, although the briefest too, responds directly to JFM in seven chapters. Then the next and final section has twenty-eight more chapters that seem to be pretty much a hodge-podge collection that samples everything ever written against cessationism or abuse of charismata. It might’ve been helpful at least to organize this huge amount of admittedly helpful material into sub-categories such as “pastoral,” “academic,” “polemical,” “exegetical,” “theological,” “historical,” and so on. The literary and intellectual transitions at least would’ve been smoother and possibly easier to follow.

I’ve already mentioned my aversion to an almost exclusively defensive posture. But what is our alternative? Pentecostals and Charismatics are in fact perennially attacked—at least by a vocal minority—for our beliefs about glossolalia, divine healing, and other spiritual gifts. How are we to counter? This question brings me to my second, and primarily theological, concern with Strangers to Fire. I could call it a lack of progressive development. Perhaps in addition to “Part One: Responses to John F. MacArthur, Jr.’s Strange Fire” and “Part Two: Classic Replies to Cessationism and Misuses of Charismata” could’ve been added something like “Part Three: Progressive Theological Development on Glossolalia and Charismology”? Admittedly, that would’ve made an already long book even longer, but it may well have been worth it in my opinion. Perhaps the disproportionately long Part Two could’ve been trimmed somewhat—although I wouldn’t envy the editor (my friend, Robert Graves) having to make hard choices about what to include or exclude. Fortunately, there are chapters in Part II that could’ve been included in a Part III such as I propose (e.g. Moreland, or even Graves’ own Christology, pneumatology, and anthropology in delving into the nature of glossolalia).

Here’s my rationale. Unless we move forward in developing a more advanced charismology, particularly in terms of glossolalia, we are bound to be locked in a ceaseless (no cessationism here!) cycle of defending our distinctive experience without making any definitive progress in its actual application and implementation. It just may be that the best way forward lies in demonstrating what lies ahead for a forward-moving theology of speaking in tongues and other spiritual gifts. In other words, we might develop positively instead of defending negatively. Although Graves’ Hernando’s chapter (17) refreshingly focuses more on the positive nature of continuationism rather than the negative side of cessationism, these themes should be more consistently sustained and addressed in much more depth throughout the book. Of course at times deeper ideas do come through (cp. Moreland and Menzies on charismata in context of the theology of the Kingdom). And one of the strengths of Strangers to Fire is its strong component of biblical treatment. Authors such as Ruthven (3) and Elbert (35) demonstrate the thoroughly biblical nature of continuationism vis-à-vis the incredibly unbiblical stance of cessationism.

However, we really need more theological development regarding glossolalia in particular and the charismata in general. And it’s not that work hasn’t been done in this direction that’s well worth building on. For example, Steve Land describes glossolalia as the language of the Kingdom. That description is loaded with theological potential. The ability to form and utilize complex systems of communication is indisputably one of the most intriguing characteristics of human beings. The role of the brain in language is an intriguing element of ongoing scientific research. Yet language is much more than a means of communication involving cerebral activity and energy. Language also has many social and cultural uses. Language can signify group identity, social stratification, social grooming, and more.

How might such insights contribute to a positive theology of glossolalia? Does speaking in tongues function among Pentecostals as a signifier of group identity? If so, isn’t that a legitimate derivative of the inherent nature of language as it might be applied in our particular faith context? How does that thought offer us new ways of articulating the classic doctrine of initial evidence? Does the obvious prevalence of Pentecostal-type movements among the world’s marginalized—especially the poor and disenfranchised—indicate that speaking in tongues can function as a cry of the oppressed for liberation through salvation? If so, what soteriological and social implications might that entail? And what about the sheer diversity suggested by the polysyllabic and polyphonic character of glossolalia in actual practice? Does the multiplicity of tongues at Pentecost suggest that a mono approach (whatever the “mono” might be) to Christian identity, spirituality, or theology is misdirected? Does the linguistic diversity and fluidity prominent in the Pentecost account suggest biblically and theologically what the Spirit-filled believer and his or her church should reflect practically and relationally in today’s global cultures? How might that look (and sound!). And by the way, wouldn’t it be somewhat nonsensical for the language of the Kingdom to cease when the Kingdom hasn’t ceased to bear its witness?

For another example, Frank Macchia has described glossolalia in terms of its sacramental function and value in liturgical settings of Pentecostal worship. Whether we use the more traditional sacramental terminology of classic Christianity and some contemporary Charismatics or the ordinance terminology historically preferred by many Pentecostals, we are still talking about a Christian rite that has special significance for faithful worshipers. Most Pentecostals would probably affirm some version of the idea that a sacrament or ordinance is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual grace that has been ordained by Christ and is experienced by believers through the agency of the Holy Spirit. If we press a little further we’d probably agree that these ordinances or sacraments involve physical or material (as in the water of baptism or the bread and wine of communion) representation of spiritual participation in experiencing Christ’s gracious presence by the Holy Spirit. In fact, the sacraments bear witness to Christ in continuity with his Incarnation—itself the ultimate exemplification of humanity and divinity.

Now what might it mean to say that speaking in tongues, or any other spiritual gift, may have sacramental value in liturgical function? Is this a legitimate implication of the sign aspect of spiritual gifts so prominent in the New Testament and so important for Pentecostals? Are spiritual gifts a tangible representation of spiritual presence as the living Christ moves among believers and in the power of the Holy Spirit ministers grace to them? If so, would this suggest that, far from being an exhibition of emotionalism or sensationalism, speaking in tongues rather signifies the reality of the resurrected Savior and Lord continuing to graciously transform believers as his disciples and servants in this present age (no cessationism here!)? Are Spirit-endowed charismatic manifestations and operations tangible, audible/visible witnesses to God’s gracious working in the world through Jesus Christ? If so, wouldn’t that indicate that the sign gifts can no more cease in this present age than can the sacraments, because they are in fact intended for this age? Isn’t it ludicrous to dismiss them to the past when they were graciously distributed for the present? Doesn’t Pentecost signify the continuing reality and validity of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ in terms of the Holy Spirit’s ongoing presence in the Church? Aren’t the charismata a manifestation of the Spirit’s presence in the Church today?

One more example will suffice. I have myself utilized the meditations of C.S. Lewis on speaking in tongues as transposition to suggest one way forward. Speaking in tongues may be taken as a key example of the way much of Christian spirituality in fact functions. Higher, heavenly treasures of the Holy Spirit are transposed into earthly, human vessels. Christian spirituality in general and glossolalia in particular has this strange and sometimes confusing mix of the divine and sublime with the human and humble. It is especially important to discern both aspects united in action, and to recognize that God has chosen to bestow the heights of spiritual experience on lowly beings fraught with human frailties. Like the Incarnation of Christ, Pentecost portrays the point of divine and human connection and expression with its profound consequences. One must never focus on the human to the extent of forgetting the divine presence in speaking in tongues. Neither may one ever focus on the divine to the extent of forgetting the human presence in speaking in tongues. Such can be said of all true, that is authentic, Christian spiritual experience. However, speaking in tongues is a prime example of this principle.

Now what might it mean theologically to think of speaking tongues in terms of transposition? Would it suggest that glossolalia is a particularly robust representation of the ways of God in and with the world of humanity? Could this help explain why critics of the practice seem to be fixated on the embarrassing or even humiliating aspects of people jabbering in unknown, and for them, nonsensical sounds with the outlandish claim this is a heavenly language? Does this help explain why devotees tend to focus on the profound and powerful mystical elements that they find so uplifting and edifying? Is it possible that speaking in tongues is an entry point into a present dimension of embodied spirituality representing a rapturous union of the divine and the human foreshadowing the contours of eternal bliss? In the meanwhile, what if the humble, even humiliating, elements of tongues speech exemplify the deep humility of relationship with the transcendent in immanent encounter? Does a perspective on tongues characterized by the category of transposition offer suggestive solutions for understanding the categories of natural and supernatural realities? What can we learn from glossolalia about the psychological, spiritual, and social aspects of a robust theoanthropology? Could it be the case that speaking in tongues, far from being some wild, weird behavior, or perhaps better, in part at least, that through this obviously wild and weird behavior experienced as transcendent and transformative encounter and offered as reverent doxology something of the same mystery at work in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ or the inspiration of Holy Scripture is demonstrated in the most mundane and ordinary lives being elevated to indescribable places in Christ?

Thus if we’re really to answer our critics well, then perhaps we ought not to spend as much time and energy defending against outdated and worn out arguments, such as JFM carelessly tosses around, as in demonstrating the authentic fecundity of Pentecostal spirituality and theology. This seems to me to be a more positive and, potentially, a more productive approach. In addition to serving as an apologetic it might also serve as a stimulant for those ardently seeking an experience with God that is both profound and positive. Accordingly, I suggest Strangers to Fire would’ve been a stronger work with this kind of progressive theological development included.

Finally, although it’s impractical to survey every contribution in this large collection, a few case studies, so to speak, might be helpful nonetheless. In my mind, the actual contributions are the most important asset of Strangers to Fire. Unfortunately, I can only mention a few more or less at random. Yet I trust this sampling will suffice to encourage readers of this review essay to read Strangers to Fire as well. J. Lee Grady, former editor and continuing contributor to Charisma, opens up well with a Foreword calling for Christian love and understanding without conceding spiritual truth and power. To a large extent, Grady sets the tone for this text. Although apologetic and at times polemical, it comes across with a much kinder, gentler tone than JFM’s diatribe against those represented in this book. However, that’s not to say that it doesn’t get straight and stern here and there—as can sometimes be discerned in the Editor’s notably clear and concise Introduction as well as elsewhere.

Agreeing somewhat with the editor that the first and last chapters of Strangers to Fire stand out by position and by composition, I’ll mention Mark Rutland and Paul Elbert. I have found that Rutland is always a lively and entertaining speaker or writer who makes surprisingly insightful observations in a practical manner. His very first sentence hit the nail on the head, and hard. “The arrogance of making experience into a theology that trumps Scripture is exceeded only by the arrogance of making lack of experience into a theology that trumps Scripture.” From that moment on he had fundamentalists’ rationalistic cessationism by the throat, so to speak. With lively repartee style Rutland exposes the flimsiness of false assumptions undergirding the cessationist stance. Finally, he brings up the bottom line: the Bible. Cessationism is unbiblical. It is just not there. Rutland may not convince the hard shell skeptic with this piece but he bursts the bubble of arrogance that assumes any non-cessationist is simply ignorant or unintelligent. There are just too many plain-to-see holes in their whole position.

Paul Elbert, my colleague from Pentecostal Theological Seminary, has the last chapter. He wastes no time on frivolities; rather, he dives in headfirst with a thorough, painstaking analysis of a key text, 1 Corinthians 13:8-13. 1 Corinthians 13:8-13 has long been, as he demonstrates, badly misused by cessationists. With a close look at context and grammar, and a genuinely in depth and wide ranging interaction with biblical scholarship, Elbert demonstrates decisively that the passage is eschatological in its tone and thrust. Only by doing severe violence to the Scriptures are the words of 1 Corinthians 13:8-13 to be understood in support of cessationism. Even JFM now admits it just isn’t there. Elbert’s historical, epistolary, linguistic, grammatical, and philological analysis is quite convincing. Not any easy chapter to read, but rewarding for those who desire exhaustive refutation of the fallacy of cessationism.

I find myself pining for space to talk of many other stimulating chapters—Keener’s study of spiritual gifts, De Arteaga’s exposure of the misrepresentation of the great American theologian Jonathan Edwards by those fighting the very revivalism Edwards was in the forefront of, Kay, Ruthven, and Robeck on prophecy, and so on—but the time and space aren’t available. Readers are highly recommended to read this book in its entirety. There really is something in it for everyone. I speculate that even cessationists would likely benefit from familiarity with its impressive contents. After all, essential to any conversation is at least some level of honest understanding of your partner (or opponent!). The extensive Indexes of Scripture references and Persons make this an excellent study resource. I especially like this feature since anthologies often are not easily accessible. Not so with Strangers to Fire. Excellent and extensive footnotes and indexes make this volume practically a library in itself.

I’ll wrap up this review lest it become too lengthy itself. By the way, in spite of Graves’ comment about Elbert having the last chapter all has not been said yet. An Afterword presses still further the biblical argument (regarding Ephesians 2:20) as well a Postscript. The Postscript may reveal the real will behind this book. It is basically an altar call for those interested in receiving the Spirit baptism! Somehow that seems to me as it should be! Amen?

Reviewed by Tony Richie

Further Reading:

Interview with the editor: PneumaReview.com speaks with The Foundation for Pentecostal Scholarship President, Robert Graves, about their first published book, Strangers to Fire: When Tradition Trumps Scripture.

Read the review of Strangers to Fire from John Lathrop and further reflections by Jon Ruthven.

“Are Pentecostals offering Strange Fire?” The panel discussion at PneumaReview.com about John MacArthur’s Strange Fire.