“Feeling” God

I believe people need to “feel” God. In order to explain this I need to go into egghead mode. I’m gonna ramble for a bit if that’s okay with you…

Church ministry is a tricky business. Taking concepts developed in an innocuous vacuum of journal articles, magazine op-eds, and…well…blogs and translating them into real life is difficult. Rarely is the transition a smooth one. There’s a reason for this: while theology involves concepts, pastoring involves people. Though everyone lives from a place of personal theology, the outworking of that personal theology is often drastically different from one person to the next. Nurturing the growth of such a diverse group of folks can be the undoing of the most industrious minister. But I’ve noticed something that helps direct my personal ministry. One of the things I feel most “called” to in ministry is to help people understand and facilitate their ability to “feel” God.

I like to describe this idea idea using the term of somatization: the conversion of cognitive, emotional, or spiritual aspects into physical or tangible expressions. For spiritual purposes, it’s the work of  the Holy Spirit in bodily manifestation. Normally in the psychiatric/medical community, that term has negative connotations. But honestly, anything - good or bad, happy or sad – affects us physically. It’s the same idea found in the ridiculously overused term “psychosomatic.” Internal issues result in physical expression.

Over the years, I’ve watched many individuals have a spiritual encounter that completely shifted their personal paradigm of God’s nature and immanence. In each of those scenarios, experience (of some sort) confirmed the power of God available to them on a personal level. Personally, it struck me as odd that God would initiate a strong spiritual encounter when I knew that many of those who received it had little to no doctrinal knowledge. I believed God was doing things backwards; after all doctrine comes first, right? But it occurred to me that throughout the history of the church, many people openly rejected any attempt of indoctrination without a prior or accompanying spiritual experience to validate that doctrine’s truth. Once someone has an encounter where they “feel” God, they will desire to know more about the God who provided that experience. God anchors faith in experience until one becomes grounded in proper belief. I began to understand my pastoral role was to disciple a healthy and balanced Christian upon the foundation of those spiritual encounters – not denying their legitimacy or downplaying their appropriateness.

How Christianity translates the supernatural into daily life is the most important aspect of personal spirituality today. Many pastors and theologians are struggling with this. Contemporary Christians are eager to cast off strict, doctrinally-oriented approaches to Christianity without accompanying experience. We ask Christians all the time  to follow their beliefs with actions – that our love relationship with God requires corresponding expression in a personal way. But today’s Christians have turned the tables: they actually expect to understand God’s love through the experiences he provides. 

Christianity has always been a two-pronged religion. One side involves doctrinal ascent to a set of beliefs centering on the finality of Jesus Christ. The other side is more “subjective” – it involves the prospect of “feeling” God through experience. That experience becomes an anchor for faith that can be leaned upon as doctrinal maturity develops. Of course, ministers and theologians get this backwards all the time - we teach doctrine in hopes that it will lead to experience for our congregations. But people’s actions tell us differently. When they are forced to choose between experiencing something on a spiritual level or adopting a particular set of dogma, they most often choose experience, since they ultimately believe that experience will correctly inform their doctrine, not the other way around. In other words we’ve been doing theology backwards. Postmodern Christians don’t say “I believe because I know;” they say “I believe because I feel.” It doesn’t have to be crazy charismatic stuff…but it’s gotta be something.

Do you “feel” God?

The Books

I hope everyone is having a great holiday season.

At the end of the year, I suppose it’s good decorum to reflect on that year’s experiences. Yet, sometimes I find myself looking back further – looking at how this year has added to my overall life experience – just one chapter of many. I often look back at some conversations or books that altered my understanding about a topic. But what if I surveyed the most important books I’ve read to this point? Which books have shaped my worldview – which ones do I come back to? 

I take particular pride in the fact that I have never read The Purpose Driven Life, Blue Like Jazz, or any Max Lucado book. Indeed, you may say: “Sam, that’s exactly what’s wrong with you.” You may be right. But I have been reading something. The books below have been life-changing for me. Very few of them are well-known. Sorry the list is so long…

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression. As I wrote in the post before, I love the preaching style of “the Doctor.” Many of his sermons were edited for books. People love the Acts or Romans or Semon on the Mount sermons. This series is my favorite. It deals with spiritual burnout. And I was there. This book (along with the two books below it) saved my spiritual life.

Wayne Jacobsen, He Loves Me. I was a perfectionist. A legalist. And very angry. I didn’t understand what the love of God was all about. I didn’t understand the meaning of unconditional love. This book changed that. It’s a great introduction into the grace-oriented freedom that Jesus brought to us.

Malcolm Smith, Power of the Blood Covenant. Using the theme of the blood covenant and the faithfulness of God as its guideline, this is the best summation of the Christian life I have ever read. Hands down.

Jeff VanVonderen, Families Where Grace Is in Place. Within two years of our wedding day, our marriage was on the rocks. This book saved it. VanVonderen talks about how to create a family (as spouses and parents) where biblical notions of grace are at the center. No more controlling, fear-tactics, and shame. The McVeys and Kimmels are more popular but Jeff was the original. We’re still married, by the way.

Clark Pinnock and Robert Brow, Unbounded Love. I’ve read a good many systematic theologies. This one is different. The late (and great) Pinnock was a renown theologian and the late (and great) Brow was an Episcopal priest. The book is an honest attempt to create a systematic theology around the simple premise that God is love. It’s a breath of fresh air. From the conclusion: “God is so radiant that he deserves a beautiful theology, theology done with joy and thankfulness, theology that can dance and sing.”

Morton Kelsey, Encounter with God. A Jungian psychologist and Episcopal priest, Kelsey has written extensively on the intersection between the Bible, psychology, and spiritual experience. For me, Encounter with God is the pinnacle of those writings (though not his most well-known). He easily weaves theological, philosophical, and psychological sources together to create an understanding of how people “encounter” God and what they seek experientially from that encounter.  

Terence Fretheim, The Suffering of God. Several of the books on this list changed my understanding of the Old Testament. But this one changed my understanding of God using the Old Testament. Previously holding God at an emotional distance from his creation, this book helped me understand that God “feels”. The story of God is one of suffering in relation to humanity. Whether you agree with process or panentheistic thought, this book helped me relate to God in an entirely new way.

Abraham Heschel, The Prophets. Raised as an evangelical, the Hebrew prophetic books meant little to me other than a way to “prove” Jesus’ messianic claims. This book changed that for me – I finally understood the importance of the prophets and their lyrical narratives that reflected the heart(break) of God. No surprise that it took a world-renowned rabbi to bring me to those conclusions.

Richard Kyle, The Religious Fringe. This book is solely responsible for directing my academic interests. In it, Kyle (professor of history and religion at Tabor College) doesn’t just recount major religious movements in the Western tradition. He traces all the interconnections and tributaries that make the history of religion interesting. As someone who was deeply intersted in the charismatic lineage of the church and its ancillary movments, this book showed that tracing religious thematic trends through Western history was possible. A remarkable book.

Ronald Hutton, Triumph of the Moon. Second to Kyle’s book, Hutton’s introduced me to the Western pagan and esoteric tradition. I read this book on a church leadership retreat. I don’t remember anything that we talked about on the retreat…but I remember the importance of having a scholar peel back the historical layers of the neopagan movement and expose the “humanness” of religious seekers outside the Christian tradition. I finally stopped seeing heretics or heathens and began to see people reaching out for religious experience. Not sure that’s what I was supposed to be learning….

Anne Punton, The World Jesus Knew. This book is about the contexts of culture and archaeology that surround the stories of Jesus. It’s a wonderful introduction to all the other elements that inform the Gospel narrative that rarely makes it to general Christian readership. Thankfully, books like Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus are changing this, but this book was one of the predecessors.

Watchman Nee, Release of the Spirit. I was a worship leader at several churches for about ten years all together. I read some good articles and books on the technical aspects of leading worship. But this is the book I recommend to beginning worship leaders. It’s about ”breaking” the flesh so that God can release the spirit of each of us for ministry. True worship comes from this state of release. Worship leading is a spiritual event much more than it is a musical excercise. This book explains that event.

Goats, Turbulence, and Community, Part 1

I’ve been pondering the importance of community recently. What draws people together? What invites their interaction with each other? A couple of personal examples come to mind – one several months ago and one from this past week. I’ll share one this post and the other next post.

I was driving down the highway a while back and saw about twenty goats jump a fence and bound into the median. Fortunately, none were hit by cars. There’s a dairy right off of the highway and evidently the goats desired more freedom than they were given (which leads me to believe that they would adopt some type of Liberation Theology if asked…).

Now, seeing random animals in the road is not too uncommon – after all, I live in the South. We dodge all manner of defiant vermin every week. However, the response of the other drivers is what intrigued me. There were about seven cars with me that pulled over and began to redirect traffic, corral the goats, and contact the dairy owner. Everyone immediately assessed the situation and weighed in with their own gifts. You may not see any Christian parallels there, but (as a self-proclaimed nerd) I do. I see a genuine example of Christian community fostered by common experience.

Christians interested in ecclesiology spend a whole lot of time attempting to show other Christians why they should get along with each other. As a charismatic, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come across a well-meaning theologians warning that the quest to “feel” the Spirit focuses on individuality rather than community. Their answer is to tell everybody that Christians should automatically like each other and find common ground with one another. But as a minister, I have rarely seen this happen. Telling people they should “connect” with each other doesn’t make it a reality.

I believe that people (like those who stopped to help on the highway) are more than willing to unite upon the introduction of an individual experience that commonly unites them. No one had to tell me or any of the others to work together. Our common experience individually informed us that we should react in community. We experienced the “great goat escape” from slightly different angles and worldviews, but the basic experience was the same for all of us. So why doesn’t that happen more often? We see it in times of crisis like New Orleans or Haiti (see the next post). But rarely on a daily basis. Honestly, an opportunity rarely presents itself to us.

And that’s why spiritual gifts are so important. It’s not an issue of elitism or holiness. The gifts are meant to edify but also to provide a common spiritual experience that operates in every season of life. Many have had an experience in a worship service where the believe they have “felt” God in a personal way. And there’s nothing quite like finding someone who has had a similar experience to yours. It builds immediate kinship between you and that person. You know much about them intuitively without discussing specifics at all. Though the unity on the highway was external, internal experience can unite as well. When people discover that another person has had a similar experience, they open up to each other. “You’ve had that happen? I have too!” That’s when unity occurs – not around a specific doctrinal belief but around personal experiences that are shared in common.

Church leaders  interested in fostering community should never deny the validity of spiritual experience for Christians. Instead we should be begging Christians to seek experience. Experiences “connect” Christians to each other. It is a powerful unifying force.

Heretics, Cults, and Crazy People: What’s All the Fuss?

As a follow up to the Interview with a Wiccan post, I thought I’d explain a little about cults, the occult, and alternative religions. I find these to be some of the most confusing topics about religion. Hopefully, I can clear up some misconceptions with this post.

Sects/cults become credible over time as new members are added and others begin to accept their existence. As sects turn into more accepted denominations, they often breed spiritual complacency among their members who begin to desire to return to the “good old days” when the movement was smaller and more radical.  In turn, this produces more sect formation by dissatisfied members. These “renewal movements” only  become independent sects when the existing church rejects their overtures for spiritual renewal. They merely want to renew the spiritual life of the church. If they are accepted, we call them “revivals” and talk about how great they are. Pejorative labels such as “cult” are given by the mainstream body after rejecting the movement’s overtures for change. Often times, sects require strict adherence to beliefs and high levels of commitment – essentially an  ”all or nothing” approach. Conversely, sectarians believe that the stress of asceticism is rewarded with spiritual power – something the group that rejected them did not possess.

And that’s when all the heresy talk starts. Our understanding of heresy now (which is applied to all types of religious “infractions”) is not the same as the early church. Initially, it only dealt with foundational truths of the Christian faith – namely the divinity of Jesus. In the fifth and sixth centuries, it became associated with other aspects of Christianity - for example Origen’s musings about universalism. But honestly the modern term most commonly derives its nastiness from the writers of church history. Hopefully everyone knows by now that only the “winners” in history write the books. And the same is true of church history. Cult critics initially only disapproved of a group’s method of worship, not the doctrines themselves. But over time, as accusations are repeated in church histories, the doctrine was often deemed heretical as well. For example, the Montanists (initially part of the church) were a rigorous and devout group of Christians – orthodox in their foundational beliefs. However, by choosing to self-appoint church leaders and hold a place for women in leadership, they came under ecclesiastical fire. Along with that came the critic’s rejection of the Montanist’s use of spiritual gifts. It’s not that the gifts were wrong – but that women were practicing them. Eusebius quotes Apollonius: “Does a prophet paint his eyelids?” The issue was not with prophecy but rather who was prophesying: someone the church had not sanctioned. Throughout church history, heresy had little to do with doctrine and much to do with issues of recognized authority.

As such, cults aren’t usually heretics in the authentic sense of the word. What cults oftentimes are is heterodox. Now that doesn’t mean “wrong.” It means outside of mainstream acceptance. Any evangelical historian worth their salt will tell you that “orthodox” simply means the “majority opinion” – it doesn’t necessarily mean that the majority opinion is “correct,” though many times it does. So, many of the “orthodox” opinions we hold today were at one time heterodox, until enough people accepted them. To step away from religion for a minute, we all hold gravity to be an “orthodox” part of science. But Newton developed the “heterodox” idea of gravity from his occult beliefs in Neoplatonism, and alchemy. That may surprise you. But that’s a perfect example of something “heterodox” evolving into an accepted mainstream and orthodox belief. If the origins of gravity embarrass you, then you’re missing the point. All things are heterodox at their inception - including religious belief systems.

So, what should you glean from all of this? First, stop throwing around the term “heresy” for every little religious belief that doesn’t match your preconceived ideas. Secondly, no matter what mainstream religious group you belong to, you can thank your original “cult” leaders for being persistent in the face of opposition from the mainstrean religion of the time. What people called “crazy” then, we call “normal” now. And, third, be kind to the people “beneath” you on the religious food chain – they will be where you are within a couple of centuries…

Interview with a Wiccan

I had an interesting conversation the other day. In a small town in the South, rarely do I encounter people who are open about their alternative religious beliefs. So, I was delighted when I happened upon a Wiccan the other day. I talked to him for about forty-five minutes. Since alternative and occult religions are an academic passion of mine, I asked him some pointed questions about his faith. I thought I’d recount his answers (as best I can) for you here.

Though formerly involved in a coven, this Wiccan now practiced on his own, not adhering to any specific method (like Gardnerian or Alexandrian) – just a smorgasbord of rituals that meant something personally to him. He had only met one other Wiccan locally. I told him that there were others – that I had met a young lady who practiced Wicca about three years ago.

I asked him if he believed in a personal God. He said, “Yes, I believe in God and that he can be personally known and that everyone should seek to know God. However, I also believe that all the earth’s religions have similar themes to those found in Christianity. So to exalt Christianity above other religions is inappropriate.”

I asked him what he thought about Christians. “They don’t seem to follow their own precepts very well. I believe in the Wiccan Rede and the Law of Three that basically expresses the same ideas found in the ‘golden rule.’ Yet, Wiccans are much more tolerant and gracious than most Christians I have met.” I apologized for the behavior of the Christians he had known that had offended him.

I asked about his religious background. Surprisingly, he told that he had been raised old-line Pentecostal. The legalism associated with what to wear and how to behave left him unsatisfied with his experience. When I asked him specifically about the emotional manifestations he observed within the church and the use of spiritual gifts, he said, “Oh I have no problem with that. That was their way of allowing God to touch them.”

“Oh really?” I said.  “So spiritual experience is not a bad thing?” “Not at all,” he said. I asked him if the prospect of spiritual experience had drawn him to Wicca. He said it absolutely had and that personal spiritual experience is the desire of all Wiccans. “So you rejected the overt legalism of your Christian upbringing but not your belief in experience?” He said, “Yes, I found the experience elsewhere.”

Then I asked him one of the most common criticisms of Wicca I read. “Doesn’t that make you unaccountable in your religion?” He firmly responded, “Oh no – I’m not accountable to some guy in a suit who tells me I’m supposed to do what he says. I have never given any minister that right. But I am most certainly accountable to God for what I do. Wiccans are very moral and their belief in a higher power leads them to a higher standard of ethics than most Christians. I am accountable to God and not to another human.”

Once I got him started, he rarely came up for air, simply happy to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and dismiss his beliefs. And he knew I was a minister. That didn’t bother him – I was someone interested in his life choices. I didn’t try to convert him or prove him wrong when he attacked the Bible or told me about some of the things other Christians had called him at his employment. But I did say this: “I am really sorry for the behavior of other Christains. I hope you know I would never say that to you. Though I don’t agree with everything you say, I hope you know that I value your choice of religion. You have taught me a lot today. I would love to come back and talk to you some more in the future. Is that cool?” He said it was and that he would look forward to it.

I’ve said this before: people don’t care about your correct doctrine until they know for certain that you care about them as people. Only when that trust has been established are they willing to entertain the possiblity of your beliefs. People who evangelize others like they are a point on a scorecard or a notch on a belt really misrepresent the heart of the Father. People don’t care what you know until they know that you care.

Trinitarian Evangelism

Similar to my obsession with divine sovereignty (an upcoming post), I have also been entertaining the idea of Trinitarian evangelism for about a year. I’m sure there are countless specialty books that delve into this topic specifically, but I haven’t read many of them. So, if I’m repeating something some world famous theologian has said, rest assured it was my idea first… 

Theology has shifted its focus to the Trinity in the last few decades. Part of this is to reformulate some Christian understanding of community. We are to imitate the relational aspect of God. Also, the charismatic movement has placed the “step child of the Trinity”(Van Dusen) on center stage. Uh oh. What do we do with the Holy Spirit?! So, Trinitarian models of theology began to show up (Rahner, Pannenberg, Jenson, Gunton, Moltmann, LaCugna, etc. No, I left Barth out on purpose. He wouldn’t like what I’m saying.). God began to be described as a “society of persons,” rather than some monolithic deity either with Christ or the Father at the center and the Holy Spirit as an ancillary member. This idea ran up hard against the hidden subordinationism evangelical theology implicitly subscribed to. But God can still remain one and be complex at the same time. The atom is a single entity, yet has several parts. If anything, the difficulty in describing God’s nature speaks to his greatness and complexity – something worthy of worship. So this “society of persons” relates, gives, supports, and involves all of its parts – defining love and community in the process. Weird, huh? Yeah, but fascinating, too. But there’s a problem.

 A lot of Trinitarian models continue to treat the Holy Spirit as the “social” or “immanent” Trinity (acting within itself and for itself – basically a conceptual model) when really from a practical standpoint what actually matters is the “economic” Trinity. An economic understanding of the Trinity describes how this society of persons relates to the created order. For the majority of everyday Christians living normal lives, that’s the important part. In other words, how does each “part” of God affect us? Hmmm…good question. That’s where my issues with Trinitarian evangelism come in.

Most evangelical models I know approach evangelism in the following way. After a person is brought to a place of conviction, someone leads a sinner to “accept Christ” or ask “Jesus to forgive their sins.” All that is fine, but where are the other two members of the Trinity? The focus is strictly on Jesus with the fringe benefit of getting the wrathful Father off your case. From what I can gather, we have a very linear way of expressing evangelism that most often includes an irregular form of subordinationism. Only, in evangelism, God the Father is not the top dog – Jesus is. That’s not to diminish the role of God the Son at all. However, if we take the Trinity seriously, we must find a place in evangelism on a practical level for God and for the Holy Spirit as well. I think the problem lies in the fact that we relegate all significance of the cross to ontological premise. But the cross has to be functional as well. In other words, the cross has to supply the bridge that not only allows us to pursue God but also for God to pursue us without inhibition. That includes the other two persons within the Trinity. So, rather than a single moment of evangelism that occurs looking back to the cross, the cross created a functional way for all three persons of the Trinity to simultaneously evangelize creation beyond the cross - even in the present moment, all three are engaged in evangelization of the world.

Rather than see Jesus, Father, and Spirit as a rank and file line for salvation (Jesus appeases the Father who, if you’re lucky, sends the Spirit.), maybe God is better explained as spokes in a wheel. That means that at any point all three persons within God’s “society” are free to pursue and attract any sinner based on which aspect of God he/she connects with the most. And I’m not talking about conceptual ideas of prevenient grace here – all of this falls into that category. What I am attempting to describe is how it looks to us as humans seeking God from the other side. For some, the loving Father is the attraction. For others, the Son holds particular significance. For others, the Spirit and the possibility of “feeling” God is attractive. Each person is different and God draws them by what attracts them to him the most – since he knows our hearts.

So, if God is a interweaving circle, a sinner can traverse along any “spoke” within the Trinity until he/she has reached the center. And there, he/she understands the role of all three persons and their joint, cooperative purpose of reaching him. That’s when salvation occurs. But in this model the Father and the Spirit hold the same level of attraction as Jesus does. Otherwise, only one aspect of the Trinity (Jesus) holds evangelical significance – the others are just for show. This doesn’t minimize the sacrifice of Jesus, his death and resurrection make all the “spokes” on the wheel of evangelism a functional reality.

Learning to “Feel” God

I promised you in the post about Maxie Dunnam that I would follow up by exploring the idea of “feeling” God. Here you go…

Pastoring is a tricky business. Taking concepts developed in an innocuous vacuum of journal articles, magazine op-eds, and…well…blogs and translating them into real life is difficult. Rarely is the transition a smooth one. That’s because pastoring involves people. Theology involves concepts. Though everyone lives from a place of personal theology, the outworking of that personal theology is often drastically different from one person to the next. Nurturing the growth of such a diverse group of folks can be the undoing of any industrious minister. But I’ve noticed something that helps direct my personal ministry. One of the things I feel most “called” to in the ministry is the help people understand and facilitate their ability to “feel” God.

Shane Raynor (the author of Wesley Report- a cyber-hub of all things Methodist) posted his thoughts on the idea of “Actualizing the Holy Spirit.”  Great article. Actualization can describe the integration of an idea of concept on a cognitive or emotional level – a hangover from the concepts of Maslow’s self-actualization and his writings on peak experiences. But personally, I take the idea even farther towards the concept of somatization: the conversion of cognitive, emotional, or spiritual aspects to physical or tangible expressions. For spiritual purposes, it’s the work of  the Holy Spirit in bodily manifestation. Normally in the psychiatric/medical community, that term has negative connotations. But honestly, anything - good or bad, happy or sad – affects us physically. It’s the same idea found in the ridiculously overused term “psychosomatic.” Internal issues result in physical expression. Good dissertation topic: explore the connotations of positive forms of somatization in humans and its theological similarities to the Incarnation as an example of the economy of salvation (oikonomia). Tell me when you’re done and I’ll read it with great interest…

Over the years, I’ve watched many individuals have a spiritual encounter that completely shifted their personal paradigm of God’s nature and immanence. In each of those scenarios, experience (of some sort) confirmed the power of God available to them on a personal level. Personally, it struck me as odd that God would initiate a strong spiritual encounter when I knew that many of those who received it had little to no doctrinal knowledge. I believed God was doing things backwards; after all doctrine comes first, right? But it occurred to me that throughout the history of the church, many people openly rejected any attempt of indoctrination without a prior or accompanying spiritual experience to validate that doctrine’s truth. Once someone has an encounter where they “feel” God, they will desire to know more about the God who provided that experience. God anchors faith in experience until one becomes grounded in proper belief. I began to understand my pastoral role was to disciple a healthy and balanced Christian upon the foundation of those spiritual encounters – not denying their legitimacy or downplaying their appropriateness.

How Christianity translates the supernatural into daily life is the most important aspect of personal spirituality today. Many pastors and theologians are struggling with this. Contemporary Christians are eager to cast off strict, doctrinally-oriented approaches to Christianity without accompanying experience. We ask Christians all the time  to follow their beliefs with actions – that our love relationship with God requires corresponding expression in a personal way. But today’s Christians have turned the tables: they actually expect to understand God’s love through the experiences he provides. 

Christianity has always been a two-pronged religion. One side involves doctrinal ascent to a set of beliefs centering on the finality of Jesus Christ. The other side is more “subjective” – it involves the prospect of “feeling” God through experience. That experience becomes an anchor for faith that can be leaned upon as doctrinal maturity develops. Of course, ministers and theologians get this backwards all the time - we teach doctrine in hopes that it will lead to experience for our congregations. But people’s actions tell us differently. When they are forced to choose between experiencing something on a spiritual level or adopting a particular set of dogma, they most often choose experience, since they ultimately believe that experience will correctly inform their doctrine, not the other way around. In other words we’ve been doing theology backwards. Postmodern Christians don’t say “I believe because I know;” they say “I believe because I feel.” It doesn’t have to be crazy charismatic stuff…but it’s gotta be something.

There are thousands of examples of this throughout church history. But how about a modern example. This video of Brian Head Welch, the former guitarist of Korn, discusses the role of “feeling” God in coming to Christ. Check out his comments about experience starting around 5:20.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 2

3) Confining spiritual gifts to conversion: By the time of the Reformation, Christian mysticism had developed into several different strands. The mystical treatises previous to Luther’s time always emphasized the availability of God’s presence in a post-conversion state, similar to the doctrines of sanctification and the baptism in the Holy Spirit of the Holiness and Pentecostal traditions. But Luther consciously rejected these mystics and chose to draw from the work of John Tauler and the anonymous Theologia Germanica instead. Both of these works (and subsequently Luther) taught that all the gifts you need you receive at conversion alone. There is no post-conversion experience and the gifts these works cite are the Isaiah list passed down through Scholasticism. This is really the first place that the idea of “one baptism, many fillings” shows up in Christian history. Any experience a believer can have originates strictly at the salvation moment. There is no baptism in the Holy Spirit other than what the Holy Spirit does to enforce the saving work of Christ.

Because of all of this, Luther’s commentaries pass over most passages that describe Jesus’ healings in the gospels. Miracles have passed away and “no new and special revelation or miracle is necessary” since an “immeasurably greater and more glorious work and miracle” is found in salvation. Tongues is no longer given since the church speaks all languages and only “fanatical spirits and sectarians” would seek such a gift. Luther, like Gregory before him,  attaches merit to not seeking spiritual gifts since “nobody should presume to exercise it if it is not necessary or required.” The inference here is that since God determines all detailed events in life by his sovereignty, the need for signs and wonders should never arise. A miracle would contradict the natural order and ultimately contradict God’s predetermined will.

Calvin towed the line, stating that healing “had its beginning from the Apostles, which afterwards, however, was turned into superstition, as the world almost always degenerates into corruptions.” His cessation sentiments are similar to those before him: “[The possibility of spiritual gifts] either does not exist today or is less commonly seen.” Counterfeit miracles are determined by their association with wrong doctrine rather than their supernatural nature. For Calvin, the more charismatic gifts of 1 Corinthians have mutated into more permanent gifts of the intellect – tongues is seen as the ability to preach in a foreign language and the gift of discernment is the ability to rationally determine false doctrine. That sounds alot like the Reformed tendencies of today to me.

4) Modern expressions of these issues: Charismatics maintained a distinct post-conversion experience until the rise of the the Third Wave movement in Pentecostalism. Beginning in the 1980s with its influence continuing well into the 1990s, the basic premise of Third Wave groups is to embrace the move of the Holy Spirit, particularly the aspects of healing, deliverance, intimacy of worship, and spiritual warfare without disrupting the general church structures or denominations of which they are apart. The phrase was coined by C. Peter Wagner, who spearheaded the doctrinal emphasis of the movement. On a practical level, however, John Wimber and the Vineyard Movement were the driving force behind the Third Wave phenomenon. Wimber, once an associate of Chuck Smith, would eventually separate from Calvary Chapel due to his emphasis on spiritual gifts while choosing to retain a Reformed approach to doctrinal issues. Similarly, Wagner cites a Reformed-based approach to spiritual gifts in describing Third Wave doctrine. This is particularly evident in the Third Wave belief that the baptism in the Holy Spirit only occurs at conversion with multiple fillings that may resemble what Pentecostals would normally consider a second experience. Once again, “one baptism, many fillings” is directly imported from the Reformed tradition. Also, common the Third Wavers is the absence of the gift of tongues. Though the Third Wave movement made some charismatic manifestations acceptable in mainline denominations, it aggressively minimized the distinctive phenomena that had characterized the Pentecostal movement since its inception. Following its Reformed roots, the Third Wave essentially made Pentecostalism non-Pentecostal.

Many theologians, although accepting limited roles of experience, reject a secondary post conversion event. James Dunn, Max Turner, and Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen restrict forms of Spirit baptism to the conversion experience. Unfortunately, even some Pentecostal theologians have gone along with the crowd. Assemblies of God theologian Gordon Fee followed the Reformed tendency to see sanctification as merely a “metaphor for conversion.” So even though charismatic manifestations are now acceptable, all historical attempts to integrate spiritual gifts into Reformed theology have consistently resulted in the diluting of spiritual gifts. Reformed attempts to integrate spiritual gifts have generally left charismatic Christianity a mile wide and an inch deep. History proves this to be true. And though it’s not the popular opinion, I just can’t accept that. I can’t help but feel that Christian spirituality is meant to be deep and event-laden. To minimize the charismata is remove one of the main points of intimacy between us and God. Though others see the gifts as expendable, I’ll take them every time. Can spiritual gifts and Reformed theology co-exist? If historical precedent is any indication, the answer is no.

Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 1

A little while back, I told some fellow bloggers here that I didn’ t think charismatic gifts (the traditional 1 Corinthians list) and traditional Reformed theology were compatible. Though you could write a book on this topic, I do want to address some the issues I believe make them difficult to reconcile. As always, you’re free to disagree and comment. Please know that I am writing this assuming a basic understanding of both topics at hand. I won’t be stopping for definitions and the like. I’ll handle the issues in this order: 1) allegorization of miracles, 2) the Isaiah gift list, 3) confining spiritual gifts to conversion, and 4) modern expressions of these issues.

1) Allegorization of miracles: Even though the gifts of the Spirit were still common during the postbiblical period (even by “scaffolding model” timelines), clergy began to substitute allegorical interpretations for actual miraculous events and charismata. The need for miracles and spiritual gifts began to be seen as an elementary approach to Christianity, similar to the way the Alexandrian school taught that literal interpretation of scripture was beneath a mature believer. Rather, God’s acts of creation and the ”healing” of the soul (conversion) became the true miracles of the church. Augustine, in his Homilies on the Gospel of John, stated, “The Samaritans had waited for no sign, they believed simply His word.” Emphasizing faith that does not require miracles, he stated that mature Christians have “believed on Christ through the gospel; we have seen no signs, none do we demand.” Earlier, disgusted with commoners’ use of amulets to cure disease, Augustine stated that we should “rejoice” when someone is sick “tossed about with fever and pains” in hopes that the gospel “placed at the heart” will “heal it from sin.” Sin was the most urgent “disease” facing humanity. The Reformers picked this line of reasoning up.

2) Substitution of the Christological gifts of Isaiah 11 for the 1 Corinthians 12 list: Around the same time, clergy began to teach regularly on the gifts in Isaiah 11:2-3. The Isaiah list (wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, piety, and the fear of the Lord) became the standard gift “list” associated with the Christian walk. Though it is difficult to speculate exactly why these gifts were chosen over the 1 Corinthians list, some reasons do come to mind. For one, the Isaiah list prophetically describes the giftings of Christ. The church at this time was highly involved in defining Christology against heretical movements and the Isaiah gifts reflected that concern. Secondly, the gifts in Isaiah had less of a supernatural element to them. Wisdom, for example, has a more natural element to it than say, tongues. Counsel could be gained through interaction with creation – the Augustinian vehicle for God’s self-revelation – as opposed to prophecy which required direct revelation and inner experience. Third, the 1 Corinthians gifts appealed to the direct experience of the individual believer – something most ecclesiastical authorities believed was dangerous, particularly after the Montanism “scare.”

The Isaiah list didn’t replace the 1 Corinthians list overnight. Beginning with the Alexandrian school, spiritual gifts were adapted to accommodate theological beliefs. Origen cited language, wisdom, and knowledge as gifts only available to “worthy receivers.” Ambrose, describing the sacrament of confirmation, emphasized the reception of the “sevenfold gift” – listing the traits of Christ in Isaiah 11. Augustine followed suit. Gregory the Great made this substitution permanent. In his famous Pastoral Rule, Gregory wrote a tremendous amount about love and self-control but steered away from any recognition of the power gifts listed in 1 Corinthians. In his commentary on Job, Gregory explained that the seven gifts act as armor against spiritual attack and other evils. In a homily on Pentecost, Gregory specifically addressed the gifts in 1 Corinthians, but in the postbiblical age, he stated they are considered the gift of the clergy alone. Parishioners would do better to focus on the seven gifts that promote fruitful Christian living rather than power gifts that could possibly lead to pride.

We find the consummation of the allegorical and sevenfold gift traditions in the Reformed tradition. Luther’s German translation of the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus, while referencing the seven gifts, allegorically interprets the gift of tongues as preaching: “You are with sevenfold gifts/The finger of God’s right hand/You deliver the Father’s Word speedily/With tongues into all the lands.”  These ideas are still reflected in Reformed theology today.

I’ll discuss issues 3 and 4 tomorrow…

Pentecostalism: A Postmodern Dream

Following up my controversial post the other day: “Are Christians and Occultists the Same?”, I want to write a little about where I think Pentecostalism fits into our present theological scene. That will require some brief background.

We live in a postmodern world. Oversimplified, we live in a time where the structured safety nets that once held our views of philosophy, religion, science, morality, etc. together have mostly evaporated in Western culture. Some blame the cynicism of world wars, some blame the introduction of eastern religions through Lyndon Johnson’s Immigration Act of 1965, some blame loss of collective national identity, while other point to the deconstructionists. I suppose any of those reasons will do. But what interests me as a pastor is where our present spiritual landscape is taking us.

Something pretty interesting happened a while back in Christian culture. Theology began to shift toward a postmodern view as well. On the backs of philosophers like Alasdair MacIntyre and theologians like Bernard Ramm, postmodern faith began to take hold. I suppose that found its proper outworking in Frei and Lindbeck’s Postliberalism and its popularized (and shallow) knock-off, the emerging tradition, but describing it to you may be simpler. See, in evangelical circles, Christianity for many years was anchored on “propositions”: particular beliefs that guided the interpretation of scripture and formed the bedrock of the faith. Tried and true, these “fundamentals of the faith” guided evangelical theology for years. But slowly, with the encroachment of postmodern thought, those propositions began to be questioned. What meant one thing to one person may mean something totally different to someone else. So how can anyone really determine the true propositions of religion? This sent conservative Christians sounding the alarm, screaming big words like “antifoundationalism” (huh?) and the like. Postmodern thought had taken the Bible off its foundations plunging Christianity into relativism. Spirituality became a free-market with hundreds of choices – it became popular to be “spiritual but not religious.” In postmodern society, doctrine is not important compared to experience and personal belief.

Though conservative evangelicals have been wringing their hands over this scenario for years, trying to protect the “propositions” that were once so easily believed, I think there’s a better alternative. And one that isn’t mentioned very often. See, the rest of the global world went postmodern a long time ago. Some nations never even went “modern” so they could later become “postmodern.” And whether we believe that experience should be valued over dogma or not, there are some statistics that tell us something really important. There are 500 million Pentecostals worldwide – bigger than all other Protestant groupings combined. Only Catholicism is bigger. The rest of the world (while we chose scientific naturalism) went with experience over doctrine. And though we’ve always considered ourselves ahead of the curve,  we are now ”deconstructing” towards what the rest of the planet already knew: experience is (and always will be) the linchpin of faith. On a global scale, to be Pentecostal is to be Protestant. Experience-oriented Christianity is now the majority tradition. You don’t have to like it…but you better deal with it.

That means no one is really interested in hearing someone explain the case for “reasonable faith” or force a set of beliefs upon them. That approach to Christiantiy is now the minority. But people will happily adopt any set of beliefs if experience accompanies that belief system. Get it? So, for a minister interested in reaching people in this present spiritual climate, spiritual gifts are God’s way of making Christianity relevant from an experiential perspective, which is the majority view. Spiritual experience (through the charismata and other spiritual phenomena) was meant to be the anchor to the Christian faith in our pluralistic society. The last time a religious climate rivaled our present one? In the first century of the church. 

Sound doctrine is nurtured upon the foundation of experience, not the other way around. Now, that idea may anger you. That’s okay. Don’t run away from the idea…investigate it. You may find you end up agreeing with me. If you’re not into the whole “charismatic” thing, talk to someone about it…heck, you can talk to me if you want. God created us to experience our faith. That experience can make us relevant to the very people around us.