Daniel Ramírez, Migrating Faith: Pentecostalism in the United States and Mexico in the Twentieth Century (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 2015), xix + 283 pages.

Why should readers of The Pneuma Review look up these books under review? Although the answers to this question may seem obvious, they nevertheless need to be reiterated: because the center of Christianity has now shifted from the Euro-American West to the global South; consistent with the foregoing, because of the so-called “browning” of the North American church such that the its vitality is currently being sustained, and is projected to be increasingly carried over the next few decades, by migration from the rest of Latin America; and because, for the North American Pentecostal movement in general and the Assemblies of God denomination specifically, one third of all adherents are non-white and one-fourth – and growing percentage-wise as well as in aggregate – are Latino (see, e.g., Pew Research Center demographics from July 2015). Beyond other rationales that might motivate the present constituency, the above ought to prompt curiosity at least, if not a sense of urgency about becoming more acquainted with what Espinosa and Ramírez have to say. To be as pointed as possible: despite their “Decade of Harvest” initiative in the 1990s, the Assemblies of God would be in no less severe of a decline compared to mainline Protestant denominations if not for growth in Latinos within its ranks over the last two decades!

Gastón Espinosa is Arthur V. Stoughton Professor of Religious Studies at Claremont McKenna College.

The authors and their books covered in this review are quite distinct. Ramírez is a more recently established academic who is shifting, at the time of this writing, from the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor (their Department of American Culture and Latino/a Studies) to Claremont School of Theology (Claremont, California). This is his first book, his Duke University PhD thesis, which has been substantially revised and extended, appearing after almost a decade. Espinosa, meanwhile, began his scholarly work on the origins of Latino Pentecostalism in the first half of the twentieth century (completing his PhD on this topic in 1999 at the University of California, Santa Barbara) and has become renowned as one of the foremost specialists on Latino religions with more than a half dozen books from Oxford University Press, Harvard University Press, and other prestigious scholarly publishers. From his post at Claremont McKenna College, since 2009 as the Arthur V. Stoughton Professor of Religious Studies, Espinosa’s Latino Pentecostals in America builds on his research trajectory going back more than two decades, carrying forward to the present the more historically focused coverage of his preceding monograph, William J. Seymour and the Origins of Global Pentecostalism: A Biography and Documentary History (Duke University Press, 2014). Both have been participants at least in some respects of the histories they are narrating and thereby provide superb and complementary guidance to anyone interested in understanding further the Latino side of North American Pentecostal history.

This is a pre-publication review of John MacArthur, Strange Fire: The Danger of Offending the Holy Spirit with Counterfeit Worship (Thomas Nelson, Nov 12, 2013) 9781400205172.

As a life-long Pentecostal-Charismatic, I recommend that every Pentecostal-Charismatic leader read Strange Fire by John MacArthur. I say this because we need to see how the bizarre “spiritual” behavior and doctrinal extremes by some in our movement are viewed by those on the outside and are used to whitewash the entire movement. We have done a very poor job of addressing these problems from within, so I do not doubt that God has raised up a voice that is fundamentally opposed to our movement to address these extremes. If God could use a pagan Babylonian king to discipline his people Israel for their sins (Jeremiah 25:8-11), could he not use a merciless fundamentalist preacher to point out our shortcomings?

That being said, MacArthur’s latest book does not represent an honest search for truth. It is obvious that his mind was already made up when he began his research for Strange Fire, and he found what he was looking for. He presents a circular argument, beginning with a faulty premise and proceeding with selective anecdotal evidence that determines the outcome. He begins with a commitment to cessationism, the belief that the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit were withdrawn from the church after the death of the twelve apostles and the completion of the writings of the New Testament. Since that is the case for him, that means modern expressions of Spiritual gifts must be false. He then utilizes the selective anecdotal evidence to buttress his presupposition, which leads him back to his starting point of cessation.

It seems that MacArthur wants to believe the worst about the movement of which he writes. At times I felt he was embellishing the bad to make it even worse. For example, Oral Roberts was not a Christian brother with whom he had profound differences but a heretic who did much damage to the body of Christ, “the first of the fraudulent healers to capture TV, paving the way for the parade of spiritual swindlers who have come after him” (155). Make no mistake about it, MacArthur is not out to bring correction to a sector of Christianity with which he disagrees; his goal is to destroy a movement he considers false, heretical and dangerous.

This is a pre-publication review of John MacArthur, Strange Fire: The Danger of Offending the Holy Spirit with Counterfeit Worship (Thomas Nelson, Nov 12, 2013) 9781400205172.

Strange Fire by John MacArthur is basically an attack on anything and everything related to the Charismatic Movement and the various movements descended from it, as if the whole of it were composed of one monolithic set of doctrines and practices that all of us espouse. It invalidates anything that smacks of the supernatural or of emotion freely expressed in God’s presence. MacArthur pours his vitriol – and I mean vitriol – through the filter of his own prejudices and theological presuppositions in a way that blinds him to the differences between the various movements within the charismatic stream and causes him to deny the existence of the majority of us who do not agree with or practice the abuses he objects to. In doing so he ignores or reinterprets, through very poor exegesis, the clear teaching of much of the Scripture as well.

Ironically, as he formulates his attack, he builds upon concerns that many of us in the movement share. I share his concern over abuses in prophetic ministry, aberrant doctrines, fallen leaders, manipulative fundraising, acting out in fleshly ways that are not of the Spirit and fakery on the part of some associated with the movement. As an insider, I confront these things as well, seeking what is genuine and calling for biblical grounding. MacArthur commits grievous error, however, in claiming that these abuses characterize the movement as a whole. They do not.

For example, I am a charismatic and have been from my childhood in the 1950s. I am also a graduate of Fuller Theological Seminary, 1976. Consequently, I have been steeped in exegetical principle and the doctrines of the historic faith from a time when Fuller described itself as “reformed” in its theology. Consequently, I do not embrace aberrant theologies. Reading MacArthur, you’d think that all charismatics espouse prosperity teaching. We do not. You’d think that we are all Word of Faith adherents when, in fact, they constitute a small minority and promote a doctrine many of us oppose. I actually wrote a rebuttal of those two doctrines in my own book, Purifying the Prophetic.

Translation choices continue to be a major issue for the church. While preparing this review, news showed that the choices made in a further update to the NIV has led to a prominent denomination expressing disappointment with two large Christian publishers. As a professional translator, I obviously care about the choices translators make. However, as a believer, I care much more for my brothers and sisters in Christ.

There is no doubt that the translation issue covered in the article covered by this review is an important one: what should Bible translators do with concepts and phrases that might cause offence? What if a cultural or linguistic understanding of a Biblical phrase could prevent a barrier to someone receiving Christ? How far should translators go in their work to present the Word of God in a language people understand?

The specific example in this article is by no means an easy one. For many Muslims, the phrase “Son of God” paints the picture of God having physical sexual relations with Mary, an idea which is an anathema both to them and, I would imagine, to the vast majority of Evangelical Christians. We all understand that the Biblical writers are here intending to paint a picture of Jesus conception by the Holy Spirit and His intimacy with the Father.

The phrase “Son of God” therefore, is clearly a critical Biblical concept. It means far more than a purely linguistic analysis of the words would suggest and plays an important role in Biblical theology. Few could deny that knowledge of Christ and His purpose is not complete without a deep understanding of what is going on whenever this phrase is mentioned. It remains to be seen whether the proposed replacement “the Beloved Son who comes (or originates) from God” could ever fully stand in its place.

On the other hand, the results of making this change have been astounding. In a single network of house churches that have used a translation that has adopted this phrase, hundreds of Muslims have accepted Christ as their saviour. If Jesus is right that you recognise Christians by their love for each other (John 13: 35), do particular phrases in Bible translations really matter? Surely, perfect love and not perfect theology is the mark of the true Church.

The arguments could easily rage in either direction and as a reviewer, I find myself pulled both ways. This is not a topic that offers an easy route to neutrality. Whatever stance one takes, important and Biblically sound arguments exist in contradiction.

Perhaps this is actually the issue: we take sides more easily than we give love. This kind of behaviour is not new, Paul had to rebuke the Corinthian church for taking sides behind one preacher or another (1 Cor 1: 12-21). There may well have been real and perhaps even important theological differences between Paul, Apollos and Peter but Paul is keen to remind the church that our common faith in Christ is greater than our differences.

We might make a similar point about the tendency to back one Bible translation strategy over another. As I have written elsewhere (The Pneuma Review, vol. 12 no. 3., Summer 2009, pp. 24-43), there are real problems and issues with every strategy. Something goes wrong no matter how we translate the Word: this why almost all pastors and theologians warn against only using a single translation for study. We need the wisdom of multiple counsel.

Paul Cain and R. T. Kendall, The Word and the Spirit: Reclaiming Your Covenant with the Holy Spirit and the Word of God (Eastbourne, E. Sussex: Kingsway Publications, 1996; Orlando, Florida: Creation House, 1998), xviii + 87 pages, ISBN 9780884195443.

In 1992, Paul Cain and R.T. Kendall together gave six addresses at the Wembley Conference Center in London. This book is a compilation of those messages, reissuing the perennial challenge for the Church to “marry” the Word and the Spirit. I say “perennial” because since the time of Tertullian and Irenaeus, there has been a tendency toward either Word-Christianity or Spirit-Christianity. It seems that either one or the other of these “two hands of the Father” have held prominence, but never quite both at once.

The history of the church has seen the pendulum swing to and fro from dry institutionalism on one side—with its hierarchy, authoritarianism, and hyper-orthodoxy—to radical and subjective Spirit movements on the other side. The balance of Word and Spirit has been a strikingly elusive goal and ideal for those following the Christian way. All the more importantly then, the authors insist, that such a balance should be sought today.

To that end, Cain and Kendall released these sermons as words of exhortation to the contemporary Church and in anticipation of the next—perhaps even final—move of God in and through the Church. Clearly, as the rhetoric of the book indicates, their message is addressed primarily to Pentecostals, charismatics, and those in the broad range of Third Wave and other renewal and prophetic movements. These are the individuals and groups who are most susceptible to either a neglect of the Word, or a subordination of the Word to the Spirit. It is for this reason that Kendall—whose prior fame has been as a Biblical expositor—and Cain both emphasize the importance of returning to the Word, re-emphasizing the Word, or being further grounded in Scripture. Their objective, however, is not only to call attention to the Word, but to present the conjunction of Word and Spirit as an imperative for Christians. With this in mind the authors include practical suggestions as to how this remarriage of Word and Spirit can be enabled, such as discussions of “how to obtain power” (Kendall, pp. 12-17), and the elements of Spirit-filled living (Cain, Ch. 3). Kendall’s “The Preaching of the Word and the Spirit” (Ch. 4) also provides explicit guidance on how to allow the sermon to be a medium for the Spirit’s presence and activity rather than for the preacher’s.

As I read through The Word and the Spirit, however, I could not help but think that the authors are aware not only of the gargantuan task confronting the Church on this matter, but also of its truly revolutionary implications. Let me make a few brief comments on that task in order to lead into a look at these implications.