It was like a ghost town. The ancient parade fields were still there just as they looked in 1878, lined with the original antiquated officers housing. They were mansions, mostly empty, but well maintained.

Fort Meade, South Dakota, as it appeared in 1888. Bear Butte is in background.

Now called Fort Meade, it is used occasionally by the South Dakota National Guard as a training site. I was the chaplain, with the rank of Captain, for the Officers’ Candidate School there that summer for the western region of the United States Army National Guard. The officer candidates were Second Lieutenant university students, preparing to be Army officers. All strangers, we converged for a mission to make officers out of them. They numbered at about 100.

When the Fourth of July came, they displayed their mettle. They could have gone to Mount Rushmore or even to Rapid City to go drinking without getting caught. Interestingly, they all re-enacted a deadly Civil War battle on the parade field to get a feel for what war was like during the Civil War (1861-1865). It was sobering. I facilitated with my role as a Civil War chaplain. They knelt on the ground, bayonets in hand, as I conducted a worship service on the field before the battle ensued.

In those days, when soldiers came to your house to conscript you for battle, it was a death warrant. You did not return. There were rare exceptions. For the most part, it was a departure forever from your family. If you refused, they killed you on the spot. National security was at stake for the North and the South.

Because rifles were not accurate in the 1800s, soldiers were not to shoot until they saw the whites of the eyes of those they shot. Or else, they wasted bullets, and while it could take a minute to reload, they could be shot while the other side encroached upon them. Timing was everything. They looked into the eyes of those they killed. Sometimes it was one’s friend, brother, uncle, or worse, one’s father, or grandfather.

When each battle was over, hundreds or thousands would cover the fields, wounded, moaning for days until they died. Doctors were scarce, but saved who they could. It did not take much to die in battle during the Civil War. A mere gunshot wound in the leg is all it took in many cases. If you could not walk off the battlefield at the end of the battle, you died. You were left lying on the ground, suffering for days perhaps, until you died, if no soldiers were available to assist you.

Officers and chaplains walked the fields speaking to the wounded and praying with them as they died in unbearable pain. Listening to the choruses of deep groans of hundreds of soldiers lying across vast fields was horrifying. Officers and chaplains relayed soldiers’ messages to their mothers, wives, and next of kin if they could.

Today, we kill people whom we never see, who could be miles away. Then we get in our vehicles and drive away or fly away. For me, the re-enactment was a spiritual experience. I was honored to minister to the candidates on the field when we taught them that the price of freedom is usually separation, pain, and death.

Why is a firm conviction in the ongoing reality, power, and love of God necessary for biblical Christianity? In this book, J. P. Moreland successfully presents principles, arguments, and evidence to convict readers on the essential role of the supernatural in Christianity and Christian living. Moreland, a philosopher, theologian, and apologist, utilizes the tools of his multi-disciplinary vocation to present not just a compelling treatise but also an instructive guidebook for a fuller Christian life. Essentially, he posits that miracles, defined as God’s divine intervention in human affairs (page 96), are part and parcel of the relational religion God offers to humanity. Christians, he says, are to expect miracles, live a naturally supernatural life, and stand firm in their conviction that God, whose kingdom is inbreaking, continues to demonstrate his reality today.

Moreland progressively unpacks the book’s core idea by first establishing foundational principles and arguments for miracles and the supernatural in the book’s first two chapters. He then builds on the views presented in the first two chapters by extrapolating five types of supernatural experiences within the loci of prayer (chapter 3-4), miraculous healing (chapter 5-6), divine communication (chapter 5), angelic and demonic manifestations (chapter 8) and near-death experiences (chapter 9). He ends the book with practical guidance on the way forward (chapter 10) and a selected annotated bibliography for further reading (pages 249-259). Moreland unpacks progressively and logically, uses philosophical argumentation and theological support, and thoroughly investigates evidence.

He presents his case not in the usual “Christianese,” instead he used a principle that investigators use—the Intelligent Agent Principle (IAP) (pages 31-33). The use of the IAP as a method of evaluating the veracity of miraculous claims is refreshing and efficacious for a wider audience; that is, it not just convinces Christians but can also potentially evangelize and respond to agnostics and atheists. The use of an extrabiblical principle is novel yet relevant in today’s world, where people require rational proofs presented in a common-sense manner.

Moreover, Moreland presents his arguments with investigative clarity. He knows that truth claims should be backed by credibility and evidence, so he exerts effort to present verifiable data and credible eyewitness testimony. There is no doubt that the experiences mentioned are not fabricated and are not the product of a creative imagination. Hence, Moreland can convince readers not just emotionally but also cognitively.

That said, the discussion on angelic and demonic manifestations, as well as near-death experiences (NDEs), probably needed more theological explication. Although discourse on these themes relies heavily on eyewitness testimony and biblical support is limited, a constructive theological presentation might be more helpful in presenting these themes convincingly. Nevertheless, the chapter on NDEs was encouraging. The use of well-documented incidences provides verifiable data on the reality of life after death, which can be used to minister to those with debilitating fears.

Overall, the book partially explained the Christian supernatural worldview and presented compelling arguments for the continuation of miracles and supernatural manifestations. It convinces readers of the necessity of living a naturally supernatural life, provides practical guidelines for a supernatural ministry, and defends Christianity’s authenticity, which relationally connects us to the one true God. The book can convince readers that God is powerfully real, actively present even in mundane affairs, loving in his interaction, and purpose-filled in his interventions. Furthermore, Moreland was able to hold on to the polar tensions of skepticism and sensationalism; he is able to present a balanced view of an “already-not-yet” eschatology without falling into an over-realized supernaturalism. He was academic, apologetic and also pastoral.

I highly recommend this book as a supplementary guide for training Spirit empowered ministers in academic institutions, as well as for Church-based trainings. Although certain traditions may have different theological stances on the themes presented, the book nevertheless presents a well-thought out explanation and defense of the continuation of miracles and the practice of a biblically grounded supernatural ministry.

Reviewed by Lora Angeline E. Timenia

Publisher’s page: https://zondervanacademic.com/products/a-simple-guide-to-experience-miracles

Rachel Marszalek is Vicar of All Saints Church in London, England. In this report from the New Wine United 2017 convention, she primarily shares insights and perspective about what is happening within the Anglican Church. For more about the New Wine movement and the United 2017 convention, see her other report, “Elephants Explored.”

Whether we meet God in the silence or the stadium gathering; whether we speak in tongues or sing the liturgy, whether we raise our hands or lie prostrate on the floor, Anglicans share a heritage. Philip North, the Bishop of Burnley, wrote recently about this magnanimous Church of England of which New Wine is a part. He was fascinated by the anthropology and spirituality of its various constituencies taking time out from the mother-ship, to meet, usually in a field somewhere, with its own. Keswick is home for a week for the evangelical, Walsingham – the Anglo-Catholic and Somerset – the New Wine Charismatic. There is also Spring Harvest for the gently charismatic evangelical and Greenbelt for those, well, I am hard pushed to say, those who are deconstructing and reconfiguring faith in various ways.

At New Wine, Bishop Philip said ‘the gospel is a very jolly thing … there is a powerful sense of the immanence of God … proclamation … is relevant to the immediate needs and aspirations of the culture … the festival has a powerful energy focused on a passionate belief in the local church as the hope of the world, and a real sense that we can go back home to make a difference.'[1]

Since I last reviewed New Wine for PneumaReview.com, there has been a change of leadership. Paul and Becky Harcourt are at the helm and bringing with them a new charism. This charism is encouraging a movement of God into the ordinary. There is, these days, more of an emphasis on the fifty weeks than the two spent together in worship. Paul’s opening challenge to us was to take New Wine home. This is where God will make the real difference. During ministry time, the expectant crowds are also prepared to ‘not expect.’ In other words, there is more room for the God who might not show up in experiential ways despite our sung worship, prepared hearts and open hands; the God who is also mystery and catches us by surprise. Don’t worry if He is not so tangible right now, wait … God knows … God knows you. He has His timing.

There is more humility.

In some ways, there has had to be!

In the Church of England’s July General Synod a Private Member’s Motion[2] was put forward by a change advocate, to ban conversion therapy. Its author is one of a very wide contingent strategising for doctrinal change on marriage.

Conversion therapy was denounced, passionately, at July’s synod.

Expected.

What is interesting, is that an amendment to that motion, ironing out some of the subtleties for those of us who believe in ‘conversion’ and who have heard the testimonies of people with broken sexualities, heterosexual and homosexual, made new, was not really ‘heard.’ Sean Doherty encouraged the Synod to appreciate that ‘all sexuality is equally affected by the Fall’ asking the House of Bishops to ‘discourage inappropriate … practices, and to encourage good ones’ when it comes to prayer and pastoralia.[3]

The emergence of modern Pentecostalism has been characterized in part by its “restorationist impulse,”¹ an impulse which has led many of its adherents to seek the restoration of the attributes of the early New Testament Church. Among these attributes are the gifts of the Holy Spirit described in Ephesians 4, Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12. These gifts are significant to Pentecostals not for their own sake but for their mission as “a people called and empowered (Acts 1:8) to be fellow workers with Christ in His redemptive mission.”²

Before going further, it is important for me to share that I also believe in the operation of the gifts of the Holy Spirit in the Church today. But too often the ministry of the Holy Spirit is neglected in favor of an all-out-pursuit of personal “miraculous” experiences. I cannot dispute the importance of individual experiences with God in the life of the believer; indeed, such experiences have resulted in the salvation of many, and the explosive growth for Pentecostalism globally. But the primary role of the Holy Spirit is to bear witness to the Word of God, as Christ stated: “the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify about me” (Jn 15:26).

Presently, the experiential nature of the Pentecostal and Charismatic movements has contributed to their engagement of a dangerous perspective which accords practically the same weight to spiritual or miraculous experiences as to the Word of God. This paper will discuss the implications of this experiential paradigm for current Pentecostal praxis with respect to revivals, evangelistic crusades and other missiological functions.

The Experiential Paradigm

It is the work of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 that has most profoundly influenced the development of modern Pentecostalism. The baptism in the Holy Spirit and the gifts of the Holy Spirit, or charismata, are central to Pentecostal self-identity and operate as major differentiators between Pentecostal and Charismatic groups and the rest of Christendom. An unintended side effect of this belief in spiritual gifts and American cultural influences is the emergence of a more experiential Christianity,³ which I will refer to as the “experiential paradigm.” This paradigm is problematic for two major reasons. First, it fractures the relationship between the Word of God and the Spirit of God, by attempting to evaluate spiritual matters independently of the Word. Secondly, it allows personal spiritual experience to become quasi-authoritative, effectively rendering it equal to the Word of God.

Walker notes that large groups often experience behavioral phenomena which may “feel” like the work of the Holy Spirit, as when musicians and actors describe “the energy from the crowd” at a concert or other large-scale event. Another phenomena is that large crowds often draw performers and other entertainers, which could lead to spiritual counterfeits or excesses. An example of this might be the person who desires to become an actor but suddenly feels “called” to ministry because they feel certain that God has “destined them for the spotlight.” Closely related to this is the “star” system of Charismatic leadership in which individuals with considerable personal charisma are afforded undue deference by Christian believers on the basis of personality—a sort of spiritual popularity contest, if you will. Walker’s final phenomena is the lack of awe that these miraculous events seem to inspire toward God. Not only do these miracles generally not result in the glorification of God, they often serve to diminish the public perception of God to those who do not already know Him.

The Afterword conclusion to the Praying in the Spirit Series by Robert W. Graves.

Robert W. Graves wrote Praying in the Spirit (Chosen Books) in 1987, when it received great reviews from a number of Pentecostal/charismatic scholars and leaders including John Sherrill, Dr. Vinson Synan, Dr. Gordon Fee, Dr. William Menzies, Dr. Howard Ervin, Dr. Walter Martin, and Dr. Stanley Horton. It is the great privilege of the Pneuma Review to republish it here.

Most of us are familiar with the wonderful program called “Toys for Tots.” Firemen and other civil servants collect secondhand toys of all kinds; they work to put the sparkle back in the doll’s eye, and then they distribute these refurbished toys to needy boys and girls who may not otherwise receive a Christmas gift. Last December I told my children to gather up all the toys they wanted to give to this organization. We ended up with a sack full of toys, once cherished but now discarded. As my children have matured they have grown tired of, or simply outgrown, these toys. Applying this maturing process to the spiritual dimension, we might raise two questions.

First, Could we grow tired of the charismatic experience? And second, Could we outgrow this experience? The answer to the first question is possibly. A tongues-centered spirituality will quickly pale. This explains the occasional recanting of a disappointed Pentecostal or charismatic. Nothing could be more suffocating than wrapping oneself up in the tongues experience. There is, of course, much more to the Bible than 1 Corinthians 14; and there is much more to spirituality than using one’s spiritual gift.

The answer to the second question—Could we outgrow the charismatic experience?—is a resounding no. The apostle Paul spoke in tongues twenty years after he was filled with the Spirit, and he never supposed that he would quit this side of glory (1 Corinthians 13:8-10). Some have called the gift of tongues a beginner’s gift. But we must not infer from this that the Christian somehow graduates beyond the need of this gift. That occurs only when we see Christ face-to-face. And even then it may not be that we no longer need tongues to express our adoration and praise of the Lamb; it may be that tongues cease because they are fully understood by heaven’s transformation. After all, there must be some adjustment in our languages in heaven, for thousands of dialects will be represented among the redeemed. (I seriously doubt that I will be speaking with a Southern accent throughout eternity!) Tongues are to be considered a beginner’s gift only in the sense that they are normally the first charismatic gift manifested in the Christian who experiences a post-conversion baptism in the Spirit.

The third chapter of the Praying in the Spirit Series.

Robert W. Graves wrote Praying in the Spirit (Chosen Books) in 1987, when it received great reviews from a number of Pentecostal/charismatic scholars and leaders including John Sherrill, Dr. Vinson Synan, Dr. Gordon Fee, Dr. William Menzies, Dr. Howard Ervin, Dr. Walter Martin, and Dr. Stanley Horton. It is the great privilege of the Pneuma Review to republish it here.

The strongest criticisms leveled at the charismatic renewal seem to center on two theories: one, the experience is tongues-centered, and two, the experience is Spirit-centered. The two have in common, of course, the inference that the source and focus of the baptism and its attendant gifts are something (or someone) other than Jesus. Let us take a look at whether or not these two charges are accurate.

Is the Pentecostal-Charismatic Experience Tongues-centered?

More than one critic of the charismatic renewal has labeled it the “tongues movement.” This, of course, does not speak highly of it. In fact, it’s hard to think of a more degrading label! The implication is that what many believe to be a work of God is in fact the work of carnal man based on incomprehensible gibberish.

According to one non-Pentecostal historian, tongues-speaking for the Pentecostal has become “an end in itself, and the central teaching of the Pentecostal movement” (R. M. Anderson, p.96). For non-Pentecostal Donald Burdick, this may be too mild an indictment. He suggests that Pentecostalism seeks “to convert people to tongues” instead of to Christ (p. 88). Non-Pentecostal minister Robert Gustafson also believes that “the mission of the tongues movement is not to lead souls to Christ but is to evangelize the gift of tongues” (p. 95).

And if anyone should stray from these principles, we have these words of the late Pentecostal leader Donald Gee to hearken us back:

Nothing more surely defeats the purpose of any love gift than for the recipient of it to put the gift before the giver. Yet such a danger is decidedly real where spiritual gifts are concerned. There can easily arise a morbid ‘gift-consciousness’ that dwells upon either the real or the fancied possession of some spiritual gift far more than upon the life of fellowship with the Giver. There have been believers who have become so taken up with gifts and offices that the whole subject has become nauseous. Only the divine Giver can satisfy the soul—never His gifts.

(Concerning, pp. 78-79)