Dony K. Donev, The Life and Ministry of Rev. Ivan Voronaev: Now with a Special Addition of the (Un)Forgotten Story of the Voronaev Children (Spasen Publishers, 2011), 72 pages, ISBN 1477496939.

Dony Donev has provided a rare glimpse into the life of purportedly one of the most influential early Pentecostal church planters in Eastern Europe and Russia whose name was (at one point) “Ivan Voronaev” (among other forms and variants). This volume is neatly divided into two sections: first, the story of Voronaev; second, the story of his children. Each of these sections represent a paper presented at the Society for Pentecostal Studies and have conveniently found their place joined together into this volume. While this is not a typical biography it still offers personal insights drawn from letters and family interviews which provide a glimpse into the work of this missionary pastor.

Several things which would have helped this work better communicate Voronaev’s story: further editing, maps tracing the proposed journeys of Voronaev as well as possible explanations or clarifications for those less familiar with names of cities pre-WWII. Also, while the numerous pictures at the end of the volume are helpful and such things included in a historical piece are always welcome, they would likely be more helpful if the images were cleaned up for clearer viewing of names in any future revision.

Dony K. Donev is a regular contributor to PneumaReview.com.

Donev’s work is easy to read and well-documented throughout even when he surmises potential motivations for certain events. His writing style is enjoyable to read though it would be great to find him expounding on the various phases of Voronaev’s work further to create a more personal engagement with Voronaev. Of particular interest is the seemingly controversial account of Voronaev’s children that is provided in the second section of this volume. Donev attempts to steer an objective course in his portrayal of the account/s of the children though the controversies have a way of finding inclusion as influencing his tales. Some of this is a given when dealing with personal accounts that are emotionally charged.

The numerous pictures and letters add tremendous value to his work by offering a view of some of the original documents referred to elsewhere. Perhaps he might also consider mentioning the respective picture in the writing proper for better cross-referencing in future printings.

Church historian William L. De Arteaga shows us that the supernatural aspects of missionary John Nevius’ ministry in China was suppressed and forgotten in the West.

When Protestant missionaries arrived in China early in the Nineteenth Century they had all been educated into cessationism. Part of this awful theology was the belief that exorcism and belief in the present reality of the demonic was archaic, as demons were supposed to have left the earth after the crucifixion. The practice of exorcism was linked to the “corrupt” and priest-centered theology of Roman Catholicism.

The missionaries noticed that the Chinese universally believed in the spirit realm, and that even their Christian coverts retained a belief in demonic spirits. For many missionaries this seemed only a passing stage of the newly converted Christians, as they moved to a more “mature” Christian theology. Several missionaries saw beyond this superficial analysis and understood that the Chinese converts were indeed touching on real spiritual matters.

Among those who came to understand that it was the Chinese who had a more accurate and biblical view of the demonic was the Rev. John L. Nevius,[1] one the most distinguished Christian missionaries of all time. Born in 1829 in Ovid, New York, he received his ministerial education at Princeton Theological Seminary. He arrived in China with his wife Helen in 1854, and from that date until his death in 1893 he spent his life preaching the Gospel and organizing Presbyterian missionary effort in China, and then briefly, Korea.

John Livingston Nevius

Nevius developed what was later dubbed the “Nevius method.” This was a missionary church organized with the intention of making it self-reliant in the shortest possible time. This included severance from outside funding and a structure of home churches led by volunteers. The method sought to remove undue cultural influences on the native church, and give local converts authority as quickly as possible. This attitude was a reflection of Nevius’ appreciation for the good points of Chinese culture, which he learned after his arrival in China and had time to study. Nevius especially esteemed Confucius philosophy and ethical norms as pointing to, and anticipating the Gospel. He often incorporated Confucius’ saying in his sermons – as Paul incorporated Greek poets into his address at the Areopagus in Athens (Acts 17:22ff).[2] The Nevius method was controversial among Presbyterian missionaries in China, and never fully implemented there, but had a major impact on the formation of the vigorous Korean Protestant churches.[3]

John Nevius arrived in China as fully convinced of cessationism as any other Presbyterian minister of the 1850s. As was the custom, a local scholar was employed as his language teacher. For Nevius it was a Mr. Tu. During the moments of informal conversation between teacher and pupil, Mr. Tu. would relate to the folklore of Chinese demons and spirit world. Nevius’ reaction at this point was to consider these stories as a sign of the “mental weakness” of Chinese culture and to be little more than superstitions. However, being a gentleman, he allowed Mr. Tu to go on with his tales. Even at this early stage he felt a bothersome similarity between what he was hearing and the stories of possession and exorcism in the Gospels.

After his language training, the Rev. Nevius was assigned to Shantung province which became his life-long post. There the small missionary community became aware of the case of a haunted house which was cleansed by the mere presence of a newly arrived native Christian family. This was reported to the missionaries, and Nevius recorded that: “It was accounted for as due, like other cases of ‘haunted houses,’ to fear and hallucination, and the subject was dismissed from our thoughts… .”[4]