Trying to Understand Mother Teresa's Spiritual Struggles

I've been trying to get my head around the recently publicized revelations regarding Mother Teresa. People whom I've read seem to be able to assimilate this information into their already-held worldview without much difficulty; I'm having a more difficult time with it. That's not because I can't identify with such feelings of spiritual abandonment. But making sense of it is a more difficult proposition. The options seem to be these:

1. The Athiestic Option: Teresa didn't feel God's presence because there is no God whose presence could be felt. Christian writers that I've seen have accused athiests of exploiting this situation for propaganda purposes, but really, you have to admit that athiests have Ockham's Razor on this one.


2. The "She Wasn't Saved" Option: Teresa didn't feel God's presence because she didn't truly know Jesus as her savior. I've read people say that others have come to this conclusion; I haven't read anyone write this themselves. Probably I don't frequent those types of sites. For a reason.


3. The Bad Theology Option: Teresa didn't feel God's presence because she held to a works-centered theology rather than a faith-centered theology. If only she had come to Luther's epiphany, she would have realized that she didn't have to do all that she did to earn God's favor; He is only pleased with our faith.
   
   The thing that strikes me about those who would contend #3 (usually in combination with #2) is that many of them tend to ridicule present-day spiritual experience. All that ended when the Apostle John died. We now have The Closed Canon, through which (through only which) we can experience God and hear from Him. If we deny this, we deny Sola Scriptura, which leads to an open-ended New Age how-can-we-be-sure-of-anything yada yada yada. So a lack of spiritual experience proves them right, and Teresa wrong. Uh huh.
   
   
4. The "Great Saints Fight Great Battles" Option: Teresa didn't feel God's presence because God was allowing her to go through a particularly strong trial, for reasons we may speculate on but ultimately are known only to Him. She was identifying with Jesus' passion; she was identifying with the spiritual darkness of those whom she was ministering to; she had to go through this in order to continue with the work she had been given.
   
   
5. The "Teresa's Struggle Is Our Struggle" Option: Teresa was simply inordinately forthright with her confessors about a common spiritual malady. I've seen people write that they are using her book as a devotional, that she is spiritually inspiring. I can understand how realizing that we are not alone in our struggles can be a comfort, and that that comfort may be even more pronounced when the one who shares our struggles is noteworthy; but I find it hard to find any joy in the misery of a fellow human being, especially a fellow believer who has devoted her life to God's service.
   
   The last two items, it seems, cancel each other out. Either Teresa was unique, or she represented all of us. She can't have been both. Moreover, if she represented all (or a significant number) of us, doesn't that really just support the idea of #1? I'm not saying I agree with #1; I'm just saying Ockham's Razor, blah blah blah. This is particularly difficult for someone in my spiritual tradition--Pentecostal--that emphasizes the present-day experience of God's presence.
   
   
6. The Psychological Option: Teresa didn't experience God's presence because she had some psychological need to compensate for her success. She had to punish herself, or give herself a reason for humility, and so therefore she subconsciously contrived her entire spiritual struggle. But then that lends itself to the theory that perhaps all spiritual experience is at bottom just psychological, which leads....

You see why I'm struggling with this? It's not that I think the athiests are right; I don't. Many of us have felt God's presence, even if we also experience periods when He seems absent. Many of us can attest to objective changes in our lives as a result of God's work in us. The history of Christianity cannot be explained without at least some spiritual objective beginning. But I find it difficult to understand why the God who loves us will withhold His presence from us, especially for prolonged periods of time.

Technorati Tags: Mother Teresa, spirituality, Christian, spiritual struggle

Brian LePort on Pentecostalism as a Middle Way

Brian LePort offers a nice summary of arguments against both cessationism and Word-Faith theology. His arguments are cogent and sound, although I would offer a bit of a different view of "that which is perfect," along the lines of those that Rich Tatum suggests in his comment on the post. I also think the question, "Why don't we see miracles like those that happened in Biblical times?" is a loaded question. The miracles that people experienced were written down precisely because they were unusual. Most people who lived at that time had never seen one. Hence the popular interest in Jesus. Check out Brian's article. Good stuff.



HT: my cup of coffee





Technorati Tags: Pentecostal, Pentecostalism, Charismatic, Word of Faith, Word-Faith, Brian LePort

Are Charismatics New Testament Believers?

Mark from Ephesians 4:14 kindly commented on a post of mine, and wrote a post himself questioning whether charismatics are New Testament believers. His essential thesis is that with their commitment to the gift of prophecy, charismatics revert back to the Old Testament hierarchy in which only some are allowed to be prophets. I responded to his post, but decided I may as well crib from myself and rework the response into a blog post here.

Mark has an interesting thesis, but the only passages he cites in support of it are from the Old Testament. The New Testament does not support his view of what a "New Testament Church" ought to be.

We are all familiar with Paul telling the Corinthians that there is indeed a gift of prophecy, one that some, but not all, exercise (1 Cor. 12:10, 29). There is also Agabus the prophet, who foretold a great famine, precipitating Barnabas and Saul's famine-relief visit to Jerusalem (Acts 11:27-28) and also foretold Paul's arrest (Acts 21:10-11). Philip the Evangelist also had four daughters, of whom it is written that they prophesied (Acts 21:9). And in the church at Antioch, named among the "prophets and teachers" were Barnabas and Saul. It seems clear to me that the New Testament itself bears witness to many instances of a practice that Mark writes, "deserves no place in a New Testament church."

The usual cessationist response is that until the Canon was complete, there was a need for continued prophecy. However, that argument undercuts Mark's position. It makes of the actual New Testament church--the one in the New Testament--a sub-New Testament church. A practice that Mark writes "reverses Pentecost" is being carried out and cited approvingly in Scripture.

Also, in my view, Mark seriously misunderstands how prophecy is viewed and used in pentecostal and charismatic circles, and it is worthwhile for all of us to recognize that this misunderstanding exists and why it does. It is simply not true, as Mark asserts, that "those who are not prophets must go to those who are to find out what God’s will is for them." What we do believe is that

1. God can speak personally to any believer who is open to hearing His Voice;
2. Anything we think we hear from God must be tested against Scripture--anything that is contrary to Scripture is automatically invalidated;
3. God may use some people more often than others in this gift of prophecy, but what they say never has the authority of Scripture, and God speaks through them what He wants to say: we don't get "prophecy on demand."

Admittedly, there are some fringe groups that may operate more like Mark describes, but these are the fringe, not the mainstream; nonetheless, when non-charismatics think of us, that is what they think.

Overall, it seems to me that the main criticism cessationists have against those of us who believe in the continuation of miraculous spiritual gifts is that miraculous spiritual gifts are messy. They doesn't fit neatly into a logical system. A God who can still speak to people and work miracles--why, He could do anything! We want so badly to have the loose ends tied up, to be able to say, "Thus says the Lord--and no more." But Aslan is not a tame lion, and our God is not a tame God. Those who most strongly assert His sovereignty should know better.

Technorati Tags: charismatic, cessationist, continuationist, cessationism, continuationism, New Testament, Old Testament, Christian

Hearing God's Voice John Piper and the role of present-day divine revelation

Update: Added a pull quote and a note at the bottom regarding Piper's affirmation of a present-day gift of prophecy.

John Piper wrote an interesting piece entitled "The Morning I Heard the Voice of God." He describes a majestic experience of hearing God's voice, intensely and personally. The "reveal," of course, is that the words he "heard" were from a Psalm.

This would be unobjectionable, except that Piper contrasts his experience with that of an anonymous professor contributing to Christianity Today in a piece called, "My Conversation with God." Piper appears not to dispute the validity of the experience shared by the professor, but writes that

What’s sad is that it really does give the impression that extra-biblical communication with God is surpassingly wonderful and faith-deepening. All the while, the supremely-glorious communication of the living God which personally and powerfully and transformingly explodes in the receptive heart through the Bible everyday is passed over in silence.

Which is a little unfair, since that was not the point of the professor's article at all. Piper appears to think that describing extrabiblical divine communication is somehow threatening to the truth that God communicates also, and primarily, through His written Word.

The very Scriptures that cessationists are so desperate to guard are the witness of God's communication to human beings through means other than ScriptureThe roots of this issue stem from the Reformation. Since the Reformers had concluded from their reading of Scripture that the medieval Church's position on important doctrines was incorrect, they had to reject the authority of the Church and substituted for it the absolute authority of the Bible. Sola Scriptura. All well and good. But then a further corollary of this position developed: that there can be no longer any direct communication between God and human beings, because that (in the eyes of those who hold this position) directly undercuts the supremacy of Scripture. This is the root of cessationism: the idea that any present-day communication (or, for some, even experience) of God will undermine the authority of Scripture in determining faith, practice, and doctrine.

As I argued in "The Logical Quandary of Cessationism," this is a self-refuting position, because the very Scriptures that cessationists are so desperate to guard are the witness of God's communication to human beings through means other than Scripture. To be plain: Scripture records numerous instances of God talking directly to people. Not capriciously, not on-demand, but He does speak to people. And apart from some pitiful instances of eisegesis (think 1 Corinthians 13:8-12), there is no biblical witness to the idea that this communication will ever stop. Why should it?

Well, because that would set up a rival authority, says the cessationist. Nonsense. That's like saying that Job sets up a rival authority to Moses, or like saying that Paul sets up a rival authority to Jesus. All we have to do is be clear on the fact that God doesn't speak with forked tongue. And in fact, those of us who do believe that God continues to speak--apart from Scripture--make clear that God's voice in Scripture is authoritative in a way that any direct divine communication today is not. I might be mistaken about hearing God's voice; I'm not mistaken about the truth of John 3:16.

But direct divine communication may be personal, in a way that Scripture cannot be. I don't mean that one can't personally experience the message, as Piper writes that he experienced Psalm 66:5-7. But Piper's experience was simply that: an experience, an emotional response to reading the words on the page. It didn't, to be blunt, tell him to do anything specific. The professor, by contrast, was given the idea and outline of a book to write, and told to give the royalties to a struggling student. This should not be threatening from a doctrinal standpoint--he's not saying that all writers should give their royalties to struggling students--but it applied scriptures about generosity and about all wealth ultimately belonging to the Lord specifically to the professor's situation.

That's what present-day divine revelation does: it applies the truths of Scripture to personal circumstances that don't apply to everyone else. Denying even the possibility that God can and does communicate directly and personally with people cuts off personal guidance from the Christian life, and that's a very sad thing indeed.

Update: Dr. Piper's blog has put up a post entitled, "Does God Speak Outside the Bible? in order to clarify that he is not a strict cessationist. While I am very glad to hear that, a quick perusal of the material that that page links to suggests that Piper acknowledges present-day revelation in only a very limited way. My issue was not so much discerning an implied cessatioinism in Piper's former post, as it was his apparent distaste for someone to describe a moving experience of extra-biblical revelation without finding a way to make sure everyone knew that revelation through Scripture was somehow superior.

Technorati Tags: John Piper, Cessationism, Cessationist, Bible, Hearing God's Voice, Doctrine

Have a Cup of Coffee with Christoph Fischer

I'd like to welcome my cup of coffee to the blogroll. Christoph Fischer is a pentecostal pastor and doctoral candidate (yes, I did say that in the same breath) in Germany. Here's a sample of his work, from his post Ramblings on teaching in the Pentecostal church:

Postmodernism despises truth. In fact, postmodernism simply abolishes the notion of truth as we knew it before. “The truth” (which, incidentally, Jesus claimed to be) does not exist any more as such, but, at best we have individual approaches to such a truth, tainted as they are by individual circumstances, presuppositions, characteristics, personality issues, whatever.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It is exactly at this point that the old Pentecostal hermeneutic principle comes in. I might not be able to access an objective truth which is blocked out (at least partially) and therefore tainted by my own subjectivity. But someone else can.

You'll have to read the rest to see how good this really is. It doesn't appear that Christoph posts all that often, which is a shame, but what he has is great stuff.

Emotion, Scheliermacher, Edwards, and the JollyBlogger

David Wayne has a curious post up comparing the role of emotion in the respective theologies of Friedrich Schleiermacher and Jonathan Edwards. David probably has as much or more of a grasp on the theologies of both men than I do, so all I can do regarding the specific point at hand is to echo his own sense that while Edwards thought the "affections" were important, for Schleiermacher they were all-encompassing (he wrote that music--by which he meant music itself, not lyrics--was a better expression of spiritual truth than any sort of rational discourse).

The more interesting point, to me, is the fact that David relates this to an ongoing discussion largely among Adrian Warnock, the Pyromaniacs, and David himself regarding the role of emotions and charismatic gifts in Christian experience. It seems to me that perhaps all parties are laboring under the misconception of regarding charismatic experience as inherently emotional (as opposed to other types of Christian experience, which presumably would be more rational, or at least more balanced between emotionalism and rationality). Even though Adrian (the charismatic in this discussion) himself made the appeal for a more "experiential" faith, and Pentecostal/charismatic services tend to be more overtly demonstrative of emotion, this identification of emotion and charismatic gifts lends itself to the idea that there is nothing to the gifts but emotion. It might even be thought that emotion itself is the only goal of charismatic Christian experience. That is emphatically not what Pentecostals and charismatics believe. Most of the churches and worship environments I've been a part of have been quite explicit about the difference between what we believe comes from God and what can come from one's own heightened emotions ("in the flesh" is generally how it's termed). Moreover, it seems to me that charismatics hardly have a corner on religious emotion. It seems to me that fear of too much emotional expression is just as much an emotion as anything else.

It seems to me that this view of charismatic experience is what suggested the Schleiermacher-Edwards comparison to David. To be sure, he didn't oppose them as Schleiermacher = emotion = bad and Edwards = rationality = good. In fact, he said they were actually very similar in their romanticism, and therefore it was something other than stressing emotional experience that made them either good or bad. He's getting away from the whole "emotion is the crux of the matter" mentality, which I view as positive. And yet, when they're compared and related to the charismatic-cessationist debate, it appears that Edwards falls into the camp of the balanced cessationist and therefore charismatics are left with the fount of theological liberalism as their representative of emotional, experiential Christianity. And isn't that actually the concern of many cessationists? that in emphasizing experience and emotion, we will deemphesize scriptural truth?

The comparison could be turned on its head, of course. We could compare, for example, John Wesley as the representative of emotional, vibrant faith (balanced with a firm commitment to scriptural truth), and Rudolph Bultmann as the representative of overrationalized exegesis. It would be just as wrong. The true gulf lies not between charismatics and cessationists, but between all of us who accept the authority of Scripture and all of those who do not. Our quibbles of interpretation are nothing compared to the foundational mistake of leaving behind the inspiration and authority of Scripture.

The Missionary Use of Tongues: Comparing Tongues and Prophecy

This is the conclusion of what I began in The Missionary Use of Tongues: A Snipe Hunt.

1 Corinthians 14 makes an explicit comparison between prophecy and tongues, with Paul clearly preferring prophecy. This much any cessationist will tell you. However, it is instructive to recognize in what context and for what reasons Paul prefers prophecy. Paul's argument throughout is that prophecy is preferable specifically because it is intelligible to others. In other words, Paul is discussing what is appropriate within the context of corporate worship. He really hasn't departed from his overall topic of what is appropriate in worship since chapter 11. What Paul says about prophecy in chapter 14 is that the person who prophesies "speaks to men for their strengthening, encouragement, and comfort" (v. 3), "edifies the church" (v. 4), that only "two or three prophets should speak" (v. 29), that those who prophesy should do so "in turn so that everyone may be instructed and encouraged" (v. 31), that "the spirits of prophets are subject to the control of prophets" (v. 32), that a genuine prophet would acknowledge that what Paul is writing "is the Lord's command" (v. 37), and that people should "be eager to prophesy" (v. 39). All of this is clearly within the context of corporate worship.

Tongues is here being denigrated by comparison, but it is being denigrated specifically because it is unintelligible. This is an odd thing for Paul to assert if tongues was given for the purpose of communicating the gospel to people in other languages. It is true that the Corinthians were evidently misusing the gift, but if their misuse consisted in using the gift in a context in which there are no foreign-language listeners, Paul never says so. He also never says that they are using a counterfeit gift. He never tries to stop them from using the gift. Paul's argument against tongues takes an entirely different line.

Tongues in Private and in Public

Paul's essential argument regarding the use of tongues is that it is personal and unintelligible to others; therefore it is unsuited to corporate worship unless it is accompanied by interpretation. Paul acknowledges that speaking in tongues builds up the speaker, and says that he would like all of them to speak in tongues (vv. 4-5). This is hardly a carte blanche put-down of tongues. However, in the church, it is better to prophesy, because corporate worship is about building up the body together, not individuals separately. What goes on in the service must be intelligible, so that others may receive benefit. Paul is grateful that he speaks in tongues more than all of them, but "in the church" he would rather "speak five intelligible words to instruct others" (vv. 18-19).

To say that it is unsuited for corporate worship is quite different than to say that it is unimportant in itself or false altogether. What we see here is the dichotomy between tongues being used for personal devotion (yes, a "private prayer language") and the far more restricted use of tongues in corporate worship, in which interpretation is insisted upon (vv. 13, 27-28).[1] It is quite interesting that despite Paul's preference for prophecy over tongues in corporate worship, he doesn't ban tongues altogether (v. 39) or even banish their use to the private prayer closet. He gives guidance on the use of both tongues and prophecy, based on the underlying principle that "all of these must be done for the strengthening of the church" (v. 26).

Incidentally, verse 14 contradicts another frequent allegation, that Paul's references to his own speaking in tongues (cf. v. 18) merely refer to his own naturally learned ability to speak in a number of different languages. Paul specifically says that if he prays in a tongue, his "mind is unfruitful." This is obviously not a reference to speaking in a naturally learned second language; moreover, the context involves prayer, and it doesn't make much sense to imagine that Paul would make a point to pray in a naturally known second language.

So in the end, the entire context of 1 Corinthians 14 contradicts the supposition that tongues was intended solely, or even primarily, for the purpose of facilitating missionary activity. This, in and of itself, has no bearing on the cessetion debate, but it does remove the objection that the purpose of tongues as described in the Bible is significantly different than the use of tongues in modern Pentecostal and charismatic circles. Responsible Pentecostals and charismatics have always insisted upon the strictures of 1 Corinthians 14 being followed, and the strictures that many cessationists have placed upon tongues do not bear scriptural scrutiny.

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[1] Although Paul's primarily focus is on what will be heard by others in corporate worship, he does allow a measure of quiet, personal tongues in a worship service in verse 28.

The Missionary Use of Tongues: A Snipe Hunt

One of the difficulties in dealing with the subject of tongues, especially from a cessationist's point of view, is explaining the existence of the gift in Apostolic times. Until the canon was complete, the existence of revelatory gifts made some sense; but why the gift of tongues? A common answer to this question is that tongues were used in a missionary context: at the inception of the church, it was expedient that people from many different language groups be exposed to the gospel in a timely fashion; therefore God gave tongues to those engaged in missions so they could communicate with people whose languages they had not learned.

This "missionary use of tongues" is a popularly held position; even early Pentecostals believed it, thinking that the gift they had been given would enable them to do missions work without learning foreign languages. The attempt actually to do so generally ended in failure, which is one reason why modern tongues were derided as being something different than the biblical precedent. In fact, the alleged missionary use of tongues has absolutely no biblical precedent at all, other than a doubtful interpretation of Acts chapter 2, in which people heard the believers in the Upper Room speaking in their own native languages (Acts 2:6-11). However, these were people who had traveled to Jerusalem to attend the "Feast of Weeks" (Lev. 23:15-16); it is unlikely that they would have been unable to understand either Aramaic or Greek. There is no suggestion in the passage that Peter addressed the crowd in a divinely-inspired language, or that anyone had any difficulty understanding him. It is more likely that God gave the believers the native dialects of the visitors in order to validate the gift, rather than to give the gospel to those who otherwise wouldn't understand it.

1 Corinthians 14

Paul's instructions regarding the gifts of tongues and prophecy in 1 Corinthians 14 make clear that tongues, even in the way he was instructing that the gift be used, were not generally used for the purpose of communicating the gospel to people of another language. This is not to say that God can't use tongues in that way, and there is anecdotal evidence that He has done so. It is simply to say that there is no biblical precedent for this use. It is not the primary reason why tongues was given in the first place.

Cessationists strongly emphasize that the overall point of 1 Corinthians 14 is to diminish its importance as compared with the gift of prophecy (often combined with the idea that "prophecy" is to be identified with preaching). That is, in fact, an important theme in the chapter, but it is not the only one. Paul also wants to give guidelines on the proper use of tongues in the context of the church. Paul's first statement directly contradicts that tongues was only used for the "missionary use." "Anyone who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God. Indeed, no one understands him; he utters mysteries with his spirit" (v. 2)

This single verse is so damaging to the "missionary" theory that John MacArthur tried to argue that since Θεω here is anarthrous, that the Corinthians have been speaking to "a god," which is to say, a false god--the tongues-speaking Corinthians are talking to demons! (I nearly drove off the road the first time I heard him actually say this on the radio.) Of course, this argument is virtually identical with the one Jehovah's Witnesses use on John 1:1; the lack of an article here is meaningless. Paul is quite clearly saying that speaking in tongues is not directed toward people nor is it understood by them; it is rather directed toward God. If tongues were for missionary purposes, they would be directed toward people, who would understand them--that would be their function. But Paul quite clearly states that their function is to speak "mysteries" to God. So much for those who claim that there is no biblical precedent for a "private prayer language."

Coming up: more on 1 Corinthians 14.

To Cease or Not to Cease

Many thanks to Peter Lumpkins for his link to the paper, "Modern Spiritual Gifts as Analogous to Apostolic Gifts," by Vern Sheridan Poythress. I am quite frankly excited about it. Dr. Poythress may call himself a cessationist, and I may call myself a... continuationist, I guess, but I think there's actually only a hairsbreadth of difference in our actual positions.

Poythress argues that while the apostolic gifts were inspired and therefore authoritative, there is room within cessationist theology for modern gifts that are not inspired or authoritative, but nonetheless may be genuine and used by the Holy Spirit. He makes a helpful distinction between discursive gifts (like teaching) that use rational thought processes and direct inferences from Scripture, and are generally accepted by cessationists, and nondiscursive gifts (like words of knowledge) that use non-rational thought processes and are generally not accepted by cessationists. The general concern among cessationists is that if we allow for nondiscursive gifts, we're setting up an authority parallel to (and thus infringing upon) that of the Bible. Poythress writes:

The crucial error is to confuse the involvement of God with lack of involvement of human creatureliness and human sin, and in addition to confuse involvement of God with full divine authority in the product.

What I understand Poythress to be saying here is simply what responsible pentecostals and charismatics have always said: that revelatory gifts such as words of knowledge and prophecy do not have the authority of Scripture, are to be evaluated against Scripture as a test of veracity, and are not to be thought of as infallable. My only quibble with Poythress would merely be over termonology: he appears to associate inspiration with authoritativeness, and thus calls modern gifts "noninspired." One could therefore read the early part of his paper to mean that nondiscursive gifts are simply psychological phenomena, but phenomena that may have a legitimate place in Christian life. However, by the end, he seems to make clear that actual divine revelation may form a part of the nondiscursive gifts, as long as it doesn't contain doctrinal information apart from what is already revealed in Scripture. So once again, regardless of terminology, Poythress comes to a position more or less equivalent to what responsible pentecostals and charismatics have always held.

It would be uncharitable and incorrect for me to argue that Poythress isn't "really" a cessationist, because he allows for modified use of the gifts for today, just as it wouldn't be right for him to argue that I'm not "really" a continuationist, because I believe that modern uses of the gifts are not authoritative in the same way that Scripture is. It's a matter of balance. Charismatics and pentecostals should be cautious not to invest modern prophecies and words of knowledge with the authority that belongs to Scripture alone; cessationists should be open to more of the workings of the Holy Spirit in the present day than they traditionally have done.

The Logical Quandary of Cessationism

There's been a recent skirmish between Adrian Warnock and Dan Phillips of Pyromaniacs on the issue of cessationism (whether or not miraculous spiritual gifts ceased after the Apostolic age), with a little friendly piling-on by David Wayne of Jollyblogger. (The links I've attached to each of the three names will lead the interested reader to all of the relevant posts.) As these things go, it's all been relatively cordial and goodhearted, for which we can all be thankful. I wish I had the time to get into the thick of the debate, but since I don't, I'll offer a little aside that will probably be more helpful in the long run anyway.

The basic premise of cessationism is that the miraculous gifts described in the New Testament were "temporary sign gifts" that ceased at the end of the Apostolic Age - i.e., either with the death of the last Apostle (probably John) or with the completion of the last book of the New Testament Canon (probably Revelation, and probably written near the end of John's life). They didn't continue on in the church because they were never meant to continue. Their purpose was to help establish the credibility of the early church and to assist with early evangelism (e.g., tongues used as a missionary tool to reach people when there hadn't been time to learn the languages). Once the church was established, these "temporary sign gifts" were no longer necessary; moreover, once the canon of Scripture (identified by many cessationists as "that which is perfect" in 1 Corinthians 13:10) was complete, any type of supernaturally given knowledge or communication by God (such as in prophecy, as well as words of knowledge and wisdom) became superfluous and therefore ended. We have, says the cessationist, the final and complete revelation of God through His written Word. We therefore have no need, and should not desire, any direct communication by God outside of the Scriptures.

Why was it that people back then could hear directly from God, but not now?The above is, of course, a very brief sketch of a theological position that has been developed in different ways by different people; I don't pretend that it is a complete and detailed picture, or that all cessationists view their position in precisely these terms, or agree with everything I've written above. However, I think it fairly represents the general position of those who hold to a cessationist viewpoint. If I understand their position correctly, then it seems to me that there is a logical contradiction at its core. Cessationists are forced to hold to a self-contradictory epistemology. The very Scriptures that cessationists appeal to as the foundation of their faith are both a product of, and witness to, exactly the type of "subjective" divine revelation that they have supposedly made obsolete.

The problem with God personally communicating with and through His people, says the cessationist, is that it is subjective: you may have had an experience that you believe came from God, but how can you really know? People from other religions claim to have had spiritual experiences with their deities; by what standard do Christians establish that their experiences are genuine but others are spurious? Even within the faith, many Christians claim to have had revelations from God, and many of these revelations are contradictory with one another; how can we know which revelations are correct? A lot of people have spouted a lot of wierd stuff, claiming it was from the Holy Spirit; how are we to know what, if any, of it is genuine? Doesn't the person claiming to prophesy set himself up as a rival authority to the Scriptures? Does the existence of present-day communication from God imply that the Canon isn't really closed? If so, then what are we supposed to add to it? And of course, this whole line of thinking undermines the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura, which is one reason why the Reformed branch of the church tends so heavily toward cessationism.

By contrast, says the cessationist, we have the Bible, the infallable authoritative complete and final written Word of God. Prophets? Prophets? We don't need no stinkin' prophets! (Sorry. I couldn't resist.) Our task now is not the reception of revelation, but rather the interpretation and application of the revelation we've already received. The confusion, the charismania, are gone. Doesn't this make more sense?

The problem with this scenario is that it (correctly) leaves the Bible itself as the authoritative document--but within the Bible itself, personal and, yes, subjective divine revelation happens all over the place. From God walking with Adam in the cool of the day to Jesus presenting Apocalyptic visions to John, God speaks personally to Abraham, to Moses, to Joshua, to Samuel, to Isaiah, Jeremiah, and the rest of the Old Testament prophets. Mary is met by an angel; both Josephs hear from God in dreams; the risen Christ appears to the apostles, blinds and speaks to Saul, directs Ananias to anoint Saul to receive his sight again and to tell him how much he is to suffer for His sake. Paul is directed away from Asia and Bythinia and given a vision of a man from Macedonia. Later, Agabus, in the house of Philip the Evangelist (whose daughters were prophetesses) graphically demonstrates how Paul will be taken prisoner by the Romans. And, as has already been said, John receives visions from Jesus that become the book of Revelation.

Cessationism does not deny any of this. But does it recognize what it has done? It has allowed for an epistemology that it denies in the post-Apostolic age. At one time, evidently, people could hear from the Lord and know it was from the Lord; now, such revelation would be regarded as "subjective" and unreliable. The scriptures themselves are a product of this now-defunct epistemology: people heard from God and put it into writing. It may be argued that this was not always conscious - Paul may well not have known that he was writing authoritative and infallable scripture when he penned Philemon - but in many cases it was undeniably conscious. "The word of the LORD came to" is the formula that often prefaces the Old Testament prophetic writings. We now regard Joseph's dreams and Daniel's interpretations and old Simeon's prophecy over the baby Jesus as genuinely inspired and authoritative; but at the time, they were just subjective perceptions and pronouncements. Why was it that people back then could hear directly from God, but not now?

But that's just the point, says the cessationist. God was doing something special with the Apostles and the writers of Scripture, something we can't emulate if we believe in a closed canon. Yes, the production of authoritative scripture is indeed unique. But I've purposely included people in this list that were neither Apostles nor writers of scripture: both Josephs, Mary, Simeon, Ananias, Agabus, Philip's daughters. No, everybody didn't hear from God all the time, not everybody did at all. But hearing from God was something that did happen. And this is part and parcel of scriptural narrative - and we need to take narratives seriously as a part of the "all scripture" that is "inspired by God" and "profitable for instruction" (2 Timothy 3:16). At the risk of sounding like a postmodernist, Scripture isn't just composed of propositions to be mined and used to form logical arguments and systematic theologies; it's meant to paint a picture of what life among the people of God should be like. I do understand that an event in a narrative does not establish a practice or an experience as normative; but neither should it be written off as irrelevant just because it isn't a part of the "didactic" portions. After all, Paul told Timothy that it was all didactic - didn't he?

So at bottom, the cessationist position amounts to a dispensational point of view. (Reformed readers may want to take a quick breather to lower their blood pressure at this point.) God used to deal with us one way, and now he deals with us another way. And this is asserted, I hate to say it, mainly because it's convenient. Because we don't want to have to deal with all the vagueries of discerning which experiences are true and which ones are false, of distinguishing between the authoritative prophetic word of Scripture and the subordinate prophetic words of other believers. But Scripture doesn't present us with the cut-and-dried world we'd like to be in; it presents us with the messy world in which we actually have to deal with true and false prophets, misuse and abuse - but also Godly and proper use - of spiritual gifts, and other sorts of vagueries. That is the final and authoritative revelation we have. If God were about to switch to a completely different means of dealing with His people, wouldn't this have been a major theme of the New Testament? I would have expected a lot of "metascripture" in Scripture. "A time is coming, and now is, when the true worshippers will learn of Me through the words of a book, and never by any other means."

I read something slightly different: "I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live" (John 5:25).

Emerging Pentecostalism?

Earl Creps weighs in on why Pentecostals haven't been much a part of the emerging "conversation," and whether they can be, in this interesting post.

At least as interesting, however, is the response he invited from sociologist Adam Long. Long appears to be somewhat skeptical of the EmChurch movement, or at least the claims of some of its leaders regarding its origins and purpose. His point #4 is particularly interesting--in this day and age, is pretending not to market the best marketing tool of all?