Conclusion
Naïve “Pentecostal” Readings vs. Biblically Sensitive Pentecostal Readings
In a sense, what I have offered above is an argument for disciplined devotional reading of Scripture. I have also suggested, however, that without a sound approach to the biblical text one may as well not be using the biblical text (and certainly not claiming the mantle of its authority). Sometimes Christians have sound doctrines simply because we inherited them from predecessors who studied the text in a faithful, disciplined way, but our own readings are designed merely to produce “inspiration” in the way a rousing patriotic speech or even cheerleading might do. That is never more than a faint shadow of the divine inspiration God vested in Scripture, and genuine people of the Spirit, of all people, ought to recognize that.
Too much popular charismatic teaching seems to reflect a stream-of-consciousness approach to interpretation, without careful work in the biblical text. 1 One thing reminding us of something else is not wrong—it reflects the way that our brains are wired. Through absolute trust in God’s sovereignty leading us by the Spirit we can often learn from these connections. This is not, however, a disciplined hermeneutical method, and it does not give us the universal meaning of the text from which various contextual meanings or applications flow. In principle it could even resemble bibliomancy and risk divination—like ancients who divined the future or will of deities by the flight of birds or anomalies in sacrificial animals’ innards. 2 Those genuinely immersing themselves in Scripture and trusting the Spirit’s guidance would not normally go so far, but we do need careful attention to the biblical text to keep us on the right path.
A major part of the genius of global pentecostalism is its populist character. It has been able to raise up indigenous ministers more quickly by trusting the Spirit to empower new groups as partners in ministry (as presumably happened also in Acts 8:15–17; 10:44–47). 3 Teaching, however, is also a spiritual gift (see pp. 114–15, 118). The problem is not with pentecostal emphasis on the Spirit or the pentecostal emphasis on living experientially as those who carry on the ministry portrayed in the biblical narrative. The problem is the reduced emphasis on teaching, based on a tradition that reflects US popular religion more generally.
Although, as we have seen, academic hermeneutics can be limited in hearing the Spirit in the text, popular hermeneutics often carry their own perils, especially the neglect of context. Populist interpretation, including in the Wesleyan Holiness matrix from which Pentecostalism was born, often included stringing together proof-texts. 4
The Reformation focused on recovering the message of Scripture, although not without concessions to tradition that the Reformers felt useful. It was partly a populist movement driven by nationalistic politics and information technology (the printing press), but often led by biblical scholars. The Second Great Awakening carried Protestantism’s populist tradition further, however, often in ways that I would consider positive but not without some limitations. “[T]his ‘democratic revolution’ [in Protestantism] fostered the emergence of a populist hermeneutic.” The Reformers valued biblical translations for everyday readers, but
they did not view laity as being adequately able to understand the scriptures apart from ministerial guidance. Revivalists of the Second Great Awakening, however, stressed a Bible devoid of authoritative interpretations. . . . The maxim “no creed but the Bible” reflected not only the Protestant principle of sola Scriptura, but the growing emphasis on private judgment as the final court of scriptural interpretation as well. Thus, after 1800, views of biblical interpretation and democratic values were moving in the same direction—mutually reinforcing such ideas as volitional allegiance, self-reliance, and private judgment. 5
This led to a popular emphasis on literal, “face value” interpretation. 6 In the early twentieth century, one might distinguish as the two ideal poles of evangelical diversity the highly educated, “elite east coast Old Princeton” and “the lower-class west coast Azusa Street with its roots in Methodism and the Holiness Movement.” 7 We have something to learn from each. 8
Like charismatic experience, popular religion has its positive side, but it also has its limitations. Some parts of the church seem to take for granted that “we already know” the Bible in a cavalier sort of way that we would never treat medical expertise or legal counsel. Most of us rightly look to credentialed psychologists and counselors for the most expert counseling, but anybody who can read gives advice on the Bible. I do not believe that one needs to be a scholar or go to seminary to understand Scripture; my complaint is simply that many parts of the church neglect careful, contextual study of Scripture.
Some well-known popular Bible interpreters actually do handle Scripture well; some do have an important message, and many live with integrity. Yet some may become famous Bible teachers quoting verses out of context because they devote their career to marketing their message, not devoting an equally careful amount of time to deeply engaging Scripture.
To some, “Pentecostal hermeneutics” may sound like an oxymoron, bringing together incompatible values. The apparent incompatibility simply recycles, however, a long-standing tension between popular and academic religion, a tension that does not stem from skilled biblical writers such as Luke or Paul. In Acts itself, one of our chief examples of the Spirit-empowered life is Paul, who taught daily in the school of Tyrannus, using the culturally intelligible role of a public intellectual, while also being used by God in signs and wonders (Acts 19:9–12). 9 Likewise, he made optimum use of the best rhetorical techniques of his day in his defense speech before Felix. 10 Although not all early Pentecostal preachers were academically trained, many teachers in early Assemblies of God Bible schools had training in CMA circles. 11
Pentecostals often employ biblical texts for “pragmatic purposes,” for transforming lives today; 12 but what happens when the point for which we apply texts is not only not found in those texts, but is not taught in Scripture anywhere? And do we truly gain a well-rounded understanding of all that Scripture has to teach us if we find there only what we plan to find anyway? As scholar Olga Zaprometova laments, “in the hands of at least some ministers (preachers, teachers, and theologians are among them) the Bible means whatever they want it to mean.” 13
Many popular Pentecostal and charismatic ideas lend themselves to ready outside stereotypes of Pentecostal and charismatic theology. Naïve readings from any group, however, will lead to stereotypes; they may be more common in Global Pentecostalism than in some mainline traditions simply because teaching cannot keep up with Pentecostal evangelism.
If the Spirit genuinely leads us to say something that is not related to the text, we do not have to force the text to fit; there are other spiritual gifts for communicating God’s message besides teaching the text (Rom 12:6, 8; 1 Cor 12:29; 14:3). If the Spirit leads us to simply use the language of the text to make our point in merely an evocative way, it may be that the book of Revelation sometimes does the same with Old Testament prophecies (e.g., simply communicating judgment), and that Old Testament prophets sometimes did the same with the language of earlier prophets. But that is not the same as explaining the meaning of the text, and even if someone only feels led to evoke texts their ministry does not replace the gift of teaching and the responsibility for church leaders to genuinely explain the biblical texts in edifying ways (cf. 1 Tim 4:13, 16; 2 Tim 3:15–4:4).
The Wrong Kind of Experiential Reading 14
Whereas some sectors of the church neglect personal spiritual experience, others highlight experience so much that they have to continually revise or harmonize their views as new claims of experiences come their way. Unfortunately, experiences are not always self-interpreting. For example, an experience may be genuinely cathartic without being a genuine exorcism; a hearer may learn a valuable lesson from a sermon without the sermon genuinely reflecting the point of the biblical text on which it claims to be based.
Moreover, God may genuinely bless sincere and zealous seekers without inviting us to conclude that everything that occurs in these circles is divine activity. Most revival movements in history include elements of human frailty along with the divine (note, for example, Jonathan Edwards’s appraisals of the First Great Awakening). 15 God works through fallible people; there are no other kind.
Striking the right balance between the subjective and the objective is easier said than done, and not all of us will draw the line in the same place. During intense outpourings of the Spirit (such as in 1 Sam 19:20–24; Acts 10:44–46; 19:6, 11–12), God may act in unusual ways that transcend our usual limitations. Some who criticized “holy laughter” in recent renewal meetings are probably unaware that it has occurred in some earlier outpourings of the Spirit; 16 the Spirit does not exclusively generate weeping (as in some better-known revivals in history). 17 One fruit of the Spirit is, after all, joy (Gal 5:22), and this was the chief recorded characteristic of one of the corporate experiences of the Spirit in Acts (Acts 13:52; cf. Rom 14:17; 15:13; 1 Thess 1:6).
Frequently, however, radical subjectivity breeds mistakes that hurt people—inaccurate prophecies, too much emotional intensity for weaker human spirits, misinterpretations about spiritual authority, and so forth. There is a way forward, however: our subjective relationship with God can become anchored in objective study of God’s Word. 18
Years ago Jim Bakker preached a prosperity message on The PTL Club. He later confessed that he was so busy with ministry that he did not have much time to read the Bible for himself; thus he promoted what his friends taught that it said, assuming that they had read it in context. During his subsequent time in prison, he had much more time to read the Bible than he had before. To his horror, he realized that he had been teaching the exact opposite of what Jesus taught about possessions. 19 (To his credit, he afterward changed his teaching, but his revised message draws less interest on the US spiritual consumer market.) Taking for granted interpretations of Scripture because other “spiritual” people hold these views renders us immune from Scripture correcting us. These too are “traditions,” even if sometimes very recent ones. 20
Some Examples of Misapplied, Popular Pentecostal Hermeneutics
Reading the Bible differently than we would read texts comparable in genre may be commendable if we mean hearing God’s voice in the Bible. But since God inspired many biblical texts in existing literary genres, we should also be reading the Bible as texts in these genres. That is, the literary principles through which we read the Bible are not different than the way we read analogous texts in the same literary genres. Those who treat the Bible differently often do so with a game of biblical Russian roulette: randomly seizing on verses isolated from context in a way that we would never do with other texts. 21 The genre of proverbs does provide short, succinct points, provided we hear them within the framework of the proverbial genre (i.e., as general statements of principle), but most genres do not work this way.
Some Charismatic Television Preaching
Unless those most enthusiastic today about Pentecostal hermeneutics are completely insulated from popular circles, they must be aware that on the ground, detached from scholars’ safeguards 22 and attention to context, some popular charismatic interpretation is undisciplined and badly in need of correction. (My complaint here might not sound very postmodern, but I have already mentioned some sorts of popular claims circulated in the name of the Spirit.) 23
For example, some popular interpreters link biblical identifications without regard for contexts, 24 producing such strange (and unbiblical) phrases as this: we are the will of God. 25 If unrestrained, this interpretive principle can produce nonsensical distortions: for instance, Jesus is God’s righteousness (1 Cor 1:30) and so are we (2 Cor 5:21), so we are Jesus. 26 This method can produce devastating consequences even in adjacent texts: for instance, God is love (1 John 4:8, 16), and as he is so are we in this world (4:17), so we are love and we are God. The “transitive property of equality” (a = b, b = c, therefore a = c), valuable for Euclidean geometry, leads to erroneous conclusions when applied to decontextualized literature. Indeed, even in geometric logic, one needs to take into account that (a) may include (b) without necessarily equaling (b) precisely; and (a) and (b) may overlap without being equal.
On average, one will get better Bible exposition from traditional evangelical media preachers than from many charismatic media preachers. This is not because the former do not read their theology into the Bible—some do so regarding their eschatology, cessation of the gifts or other doctrines—but because the former usually focus on Bible exposition, whereas the latter often focus on instant cures for felt needs.
Granted, the diet of popular charismatic media differs from standard fare in most Pentecostal and charismatic pulpits; pastors must feed their flock a more consistent diet than many television ministries allow. Still, these figures achieve success only because they are followed and supported by many people—often young believers or those biblically illiterate apart from relevant proof-texts. Further granted, I know and count as friends significant exceptions who do seek to provide sound teaching.
Moreover, appealing to felt needs is one way to gain a hearing for the gospel in a crowded secular market of appeals for attention. Certainly Jesus healed and delivered as signs that drew attention to the message of the kingdom as well as demonstrated its character. This directly addressed serious needs, and Jesus usually taught with stories and memorable sayings. Yet he also posed riddles to make his audiences think, and, as we have seen, he knew Scripture in context and his message was fully in keeping with the heart of Scripture.
Nevertheless, there are charismatic circles where the focus seems to be the newest spiritual fashion to blow through. Some ride the crest of these fashionable waves, stealing their prophetic “words from each other” (Jer 23:30). To achieve “breakthroughs” in financial prosperity, popular teachings have gone from sowing seeds in faith to casting out spirits of poverty to breaking generational curses. 27 In many of these cases, the preacher exercises power to bring supernatural deliverance to the followers through a prayer or formula.
Again granted, a concept such as “generational curses” may have some biblical precedent. Children often walk in their parents’ behavior (e.g., Gen 12:13; 20:2; 26:7), and walking in the ways of our ancestors can reap their blessings or judgments (e.g., Exod 20:5–6; Deut 5:9–10; 7:9). Nor do I deny that practitioners are often, probably usually, sincere, and that God often responds to a misinformed but sincere heart. But the biblically specified solution to ancestral disobedience is not a prominent preacher’s formulaic prayer of deliverance; it is turning from the ways of our ancestors to obey God’s word. This recognition invites teaching about how to recognize inherited familial and cultural sins and how to turn from them, not consumer-sanitized and -packaged crisis experiences. 28
Curses—especially in the sense of witchcraft in some cultures 29 —differ from ancestral judgments. Scripture is also aware of the reality of curses (e.g., Gen 27:12–13; Num 22:6, 11–12; 24:10; Prov 26:2), a reality more readily grasped in societies that practice them. Societies that practice such curses may practice them in ways different from biblical cultures, and biblical principles may still apply. Since standing against attacks from evil (Eph 6:11–13) requires faith (6:16), standing with authoritative prayer makes sense (cf. Mark 11:23). Obviously, a Christian’s first response should be to turn to God in prayer, or to confront attacks in Jesus’s name. 30
Nevertheless, a sometimes-missed focus of biblical teaching regarding curses is that we should avoid deserving them (Num 23:8; 31:16; Prov 26:2), and that God can ignore curses for those who have his favor (2 Sam 16:12). Indeed, though God will normally curse those who curse us (Gen 12:3; 27:29), Jesus invites us to bless them instead (Luke 6:28; cf. Rom 12:14; 1 Pet 3:9). Forgiveness demonstrates trust that we depend on God to defend us; he then hears our prayers of dependence on him (Matt 6:14–15; cf. 1 Pet 3:7, 12). Indeed, Scripture is explicit that failure to forgive someone who is sorry plays into the devil’s hands (2 Cor 2:10–11).
My interest is not this particular doctrine, but to use as an example what its unchecked spread seems to indicate. Too often we follow fads and fashions that, whether originally related to any biblical ideas or not, are developed according to popular practices and spiritual whims rather than careful biblical study. Biblically immature and not growing in the knowledge of Christ, we are blown about by every wind of teaching (Eph 4:14). True ministers of the word (apostles, prophets, evangelists, and pastor-teachers, 4:11) are supposed to protect us from that (4:11–13), and those who do the opposite are functioning as the opposite of true ministers of the word, whatever they call themselves (4:14).
Popular Word of Faith teachers are known for quoting Scripture out of context; adherents sometimes insist that the Spirit supports their reading nonetheless. Consider, for example, the use of “now faith” in Heb 11:1 with regard to believing for immediate blessing. 31 Unfortunately, the Greek term that these teachers’ Bible versions render as “now” (e.g., KJV, NASB, NIV, ESV, and even NRSV) is not the Greek adverb that means “now”; it is simply a conjunction with no temporal significance whatsoever. 32 Context indicates that the sort of faith articulated here is the faith that endures present suffering in hope of future reward (10:32–39; 11:8, 13–16, 26, 33–40; 12:1–3).
In context, the thief that comes to steal, kill, and destroy in John 10:10 is not specifically the devil 33 but rather anyone who exploits the sheep for one’s own interests (10:1, 8, 12), most specifically exemplified in the preceding context by the Pharisees who expelled a believer from the synagogue (9:34–41). Likewise, the “cattle on a thousand hills” (Ps 50:10) means that God does not depend on his people’s sacrifices (50:7–14), not that God is offering to sell some off in order to give us the cash. 34
Ministering angels in Heb 1:14 do not refer to angels placed at our disposal and subject to our command. 35 “Sent to render service for “does not mean “sent to render service at the command of, ” but rather, “sent to render service for the benefit of. ” Instead, the context indicates that Christ is greater than the angels that mediated the law (1:4–8; 2:2–3), and the text presumably evokes the idea of guardian angels already known to that author’s audience; 36 even our Lord Jesus did not claim to command angels, but noted that if he needed them he would ask the Father (Matt 26:53). 37
Confessing one’s faith with one’s mouth may reflect a biblical principle, 38 but a key text that faith teachers regularly use for this principle applies directly only to confessing Christ as Lord (Rom 10:9–10). 39 God, not Abraham, spoke things into being in Rom 4:17. 40 Imitating God in the context of Eph 5:1 has nothing to do with creating realities by our words, 41 but with loving and forgiving as he did (4:32–5:2). Mark 11:23 is probably prophetic speaking, and thus is conditioned on God’s backing. As Lamentations points out, “Who speaks and it comes to pass, unless the Lord commanded it?” (Lam 3:37).
Despite such criticisms, some of the seminal Word of Faith teachers themselves have recognized the importance of context, and that without attention to context one could make texts say virtually anything. 42 Some of them have further acknowledged that the revelation of Scripture itself takes priority over any other claims to revelation. 43 Others have been less careful. 44 Nevertheless, if even some key Word of Faith teachers acknowledge the importance of context at least in principle, how much more must we acknowledge it, insofar as we must appeal to context to challenge their approach.
Genuine Models of Faith in the Bible
To say that faith teachers have frequently taken Scripture out of context is not to pretend that the Bible does not teach about faith. 45 In fact it provides many biblical models of faith that are clear in context; faith teachers could approach their subject more helpfully and in more balanced ways if they gave greater attention to context.
An obvious example would be Abraham, a prototypical model of faith. Abram demonstrates obedient faith by obeying God’s call in light of God’s promise (Gen 12:1–4), as well as in the explicitly justifying faith of Gen 15:6 that Paul highlights. But it is especially exemplified when he offers up Isaac (22:1–18; Heb 11:17–19; Jas 2:21–23), which climaxes the larger Abraham narrative in Genesis. Tracing Abraham’s development as a person of faith as a textual character offers encouragement that we too can mature in faith by walking with the faithful God.
Thus we recognize that Abram already has commendable faith in Gen 15:6; he trusts God’s promise. Nevertheless, the context qualifies this faith; God had already promised Abram descendants and land (12:1–2). Yet in Genesis 15, Abram asks about the descendants (15:2–3). God then reiterates the promise more specifically (15:4–5), and Abram puts his trust in the one who is truly trustworthy (15:6). Immediately afterward, Abram asks how he can know that God will give him the land (15:8)—immediately after God has reiterated that promise (15:7). God then confirms that promise (15:9–21). The next scene that Genesis narrates, however, depicts Abram and Sarai using Hagar to bear Abram a son (16:1–2). This is not unbelief—God had not yet specified that Abram’s son would come through Sarah directly—but neither is it the sort of faith that Abraham expresses in Genesis 22.
By contrast, in Genesis 22, Abraham must act on faith in the God who spoke to him, sacrificing even the very promise for which he had waited so many years. Justifying faith that God counts to us as righteousness, as in Gen 15:6, is fundamental. But experiencing God’s faithfulness through years of testing initiates us into a deeper level of faith—a level of faith that trusts God no matter what, because we know that, whatever else might be the case, God is trustworthy. 46 We have come to know him, recognizing his character; and so we trust him. This is not a faith for which we can take credit as if we have worked it up by our efforts; it is a faith that flows from God’s trustworthiness.
We might also consider the woman with a flow of blood (Mark 5:34). Because of her condition, she should not risk touching people in the crowd, and certainly should not touch Jesus’s clothing; contact with her communicated impurity even secondhand (Lev 15:26–27). In her desperation, however, she violates purity regulations and touches Jesus’s cloak (Mark 5:27–28). This is scandalous faith, and Jesus responds by publicly acknowledging her touch (5:31–34). 47 Although this acknowledgment could make him appear unclean in the sight of others, Jesus is not ashamed to be identified with us in our uncleanness and brokenness. The woman goes away healed.
Hebrews 11 is a rhetorical masterpiece. 48 It lists various heroes of the faith, including Abraham, who by faith made sacrifices in the present because they trusted God’s future promise. The narration concludes in 12:2 with the ultimate hero of the faith—the founder and completer of our faith, Jesus, who endured the ultimate suffering in hope of the ultimate exaltation. As Heb 11:32 recognizes, biblical examples of faith could be multiplied.
These accounts depict faith of multiple kinds, not just the faith often celebrated by popular faith teachers. The woman with the flow of blood needed an immediate encounter with Jesus’s power; Abraham and other people of faith in Hebrews 11 endured because they believed God’s future promise. Scripture teaches about both kinds of faith.
Scripture’s many examples of faith in God invite us to go deeper in faith as well. Against some popular faith teachers, we cannot simply claim promises to others for ourselves when their circumstances were different; God works differently with all of us, just as he worked differently with different people in the Bible. Nevertheless, just as the Spirit addressed all the churches through the distinctive message given to each of the seven churches in Asia Minor (Rev 2:7, 11, 17, 29; 3:6, 13, 22), we can learn from the ways God worked with others. Promises to others help us realize the range of the ways that God does work.
A Positive Example: Rereading 1 Corinthians 14 Experientially
What would happen if we read 1 Corinthians 14 sympathetically, as not merely a corrective for first-century Corinthian Christians but also as Paul’s counterappeal that depicted an ideal way of doing church (14:5–6, 13–19, 24–33, 39–40) to which we can also aspire? I believe that such an approach would challenge the practical cessationism of most of our churches regarding public exercise of most spiritual gifts (except that of pastor-teacher).
For its first few centuries the church met largely in homes. Although no meeting place is mandated—and I have no regrets concerning my own many years as an associate minister in an African-American Baptist megachurch—the dynamic in our traditional “services” differs starkly from the interpersonal dynamic of the NT house churches. At least in principle, smaller groups allow the participation of all members, ideally inviting them to contribute their spiritual gifts. Even typical pentecostal churches that maximize participation in worship today cannot let all members prophesy one by one (14:31); they are too large. Indeed, imagine how long a worship service would take if a thousand members prophesied one by one! Or imagine, more realistically, if each one brought some gift to edify others, whether a new song, a prophecy, a teaching, and so forth (14:26).
The Jerusalem church had available a large public space where, during some periods of this community’s formation, they could meet together despite their growing numbers. We could thus speak of a sort of megachurch setting in Jerusalem; teaching large numbers simultaneously is not unbiblical, provided we have means to accommodate them. Nevertheless, even during this period in Jerusalem, believers also met from house to house, embracing a relational dynamic. 49 Larger meetings have distinct advantages, but if we miss the dynamic of face-to-face relationships in the church, such as what we today call small groups, 50 we are missing part of what it biblically means to be the body of Christ to each other. Churches larger than house churches need to find ways (whether cell groups or something else) to bring people into mutually edifying relationships, drawing on and cultivating the members’ distinctive gifts. 51
In 1 Corinthians 14, all members should bring their gifts to build up Christ’s body. Because this is an ideal, circumstances may mitigate its full implementation. One wonders, however, why the ideal is mitigated so widely and whether we are not missing something fundamental about what it means to be the church together. Of course, such an observation should not be limited to 1 Corinthians 14. The ideal life of the earliest church depicted in Acts 2 suggests that we should be so involved in one another’s lives that we sacrifice our possessions to make sure that everyone has enough. 52
Admittedly, anyone who has pastored or mentored in a way that is sensitive to individuals recognizes that the pastoral role of shepherd includes dealing with people in their actual situations. Prophetically summoning the church to the ideal must be balanced with pastoral sensitivity. We must, however, work for both, keeping them in tension.
The Spirit has used populist impulses to propel the Christian movement far and wide. Nevertheless, unnecessarily undisciplined and uninformed readings have produced teachings that, when left unchecked, have produced much disillusionment and often even apostasy among many followers of Christ. Teachings on generational curses, prosperity, and, in various ways, controlling our own destinies have often proved more appealing in our consumer culture than training for personal evangelism, trusting God during hardship, or reading Scripture in context.
Experiential reading is important, but it must be genuinely consistent with the message of the text that is canonical for Christ’s body. Basic principles such as literary context and sensitivity to biblical books’ ancient cultural settings would go a long way toward restraining undisciplined “charismatic” interpretation. Genuine Spirit hermeneutics for the community must recognize and submit to the parameters established by the shape of the biblical text itself.