Australian Pentecostal Series

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Australian Pentecostal Studies 15 (2012)

Issue 15 (2012)

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Australian Pentecostal Studies 15 (2012)

Australasian Pentecostal Studies Editor: Shane Clifton, Alphacrucis College Editorial Advisory Board John Capper, Dean, United Faculty of Theology, Melbourne College of Divinity, Jacqueline Grey, Academic Dean, Alphacrucis College, Mark Hutchinson, University historian, University of Western Sydney, Matthew del Nevo, Senior Lecturer in Philosophy, Catholic Institute of Sydney Individual articles, Š2012, APS and the contributors.

All copyright entitlements are retained for the electronic and other ver-sions of the contents of this journal.

Note: The opinions expressed in articles published in Australasian Pentecostal Studies do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editor and edi-torial advisory board.

Australasian Pentecostal Studies is a peer refereed scholarly journal, type-set on Adobe InDesign CS4. Material for publication should be submitted to: The Editor, Australasian Pentecostal Studies, PO Box 125, Chester Hill 2162, Australia, Fax: +61-2-88939099; Email: shane.clifton@ac.edu.au.

Australasian Pentecostal Studies appears annually and in special additions as may occasionally occur. The costs of the journal are underwritten by the generous sponsorship of Alphacrucis College, as well as subscriptions as follows: Aust & NZ Rest of World Institution: AUS$40.00 US$40.00 Individual: AUS$30.00 US$30.00 Student: AUS$20.00 US$20.00 The Journal may be accessed by over the net, at http://aps.webjournals.org.

ISSN 1440-1991

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Artciles.

4. Editorial

7.

A Review Symposium on: Amos Yong The Spirit of Creation:

Modern Science and Divine Action in thePentecostal-Charismatic Imagination 63.

William K Kay, ‘The dynamics of the growth of Pentecostal churches: evidence from key Asian centres’

93.

Connie Au , ‘Now Ye Are Clean’: Sanctification as a Formative Doctrine of Early Pentecostalism in Hong Kong

109.

Joseph Quayesi-Amakye, ‘Ghana’s New Prophetism: Antecedents and Some Characteristic Features’

126.

Paul S. Baker, ‘Palestinian Contextual Theology: A Pentecostal Prospect?’

151.

Review of A Short History of Global Evangelicalism by Mark Hutchinson and John Wolffe Cambridge, CUP 2012.

152.

Book review, Matthew Del Nevo, The Work of Enchantment by (Transaction Publishers: New Jersey, 2011)

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Editorial

Shane Clifton

shane.clifton@ac.edu.au The lead article in this edition of APS brings together the responses that formed a symposia discussion of Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation at the 2012 Society of Pentecostal Studies meeting. The book explores the relationship between faith and science, proposing a specifically Pentecostal approach that understands the Spirit, not as breaking the laws of nature but, rather, as interacting with the cosmos in and through natural processes. This is not a concession to reductionistic materialism, since it locates the Spirit as both the ground of nature and as supervening in and through natural processes. In particular, Yong utilises the philosophical and scientific theory of emergence, which recognises that complex systems emerge as more than just the sum of their parts (human consciousness being the principal example – our thought patterns cannot be described by physics and chemistry alone, but nor can they be separated from them), so that the infinitely complex systems that make up the cosmos can be said to emerge within the boundless presence and energy of the Spirit.

Now, even assuming that I understand Yong’s proposal, I cannot hope to do justice to it in a couple of sentences - for that purpose you will need to read the book and the symposium essays published here-in. What I can do is highlight what I find to be the central challenge that his work poses a Pentecostal and Charismatic (PC) community, which “all too often spiritualizes ... [its] world in ways that are counter-productive to engaging it” responsibly. What Yong is asking is that we face up to the challenge of the pursuit of truth that (ideally) frames the sciences and which should underpin spirituality and the hunger for God. In practical terms, he is inviting PC scholars to explore the sciences (in all their diversity) and to reflect upon the implications of scientific findings for faith and vice versa – to build upon his own work and, where necessary, identify its inadequacies and propose alternatives.

I would take this challenge further. Behind the tendency to set faith and science in opposition, is a conception of faith that establishes cultures of

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spiritual credulity that, at their worst, sustain silliness (and sometimes dishonesty). This is readily apparent in the ways in which some PC leaders approach “supernatural” healing and financial provision, and the faith that is supposedly needed to produce them. At rallies, conferences, and on TV, faith preachers insist upon supernatural faith for supernatural results, but almost never put the theology, practices, and consequences of all of this up to scrutiny. So potent is this culture that to question it is to invite exclusion, since questions, doubts, testing hypotheses, evidenced based practices and the like (all of which underlie scientific method) are deemed anti-faith and self-fulfilling - to question the miracle worker is to lack faith and so ensure there is no miracle, in an ingenious piece of circular reasoning.

Of course it is easy to dismiss the extremes, but all of this poses vital questions for so-called “mainstream” Pentecostalism. PC communities have long considered healing to be a central element of their understanding of the good news of Jesus outworked by the Spirit. While it is normally appreciated that healing is a work of God, one that is experienced alongside suffering, very little attention is given to the veracity of claims to the supernatural. Indeed, what do we mean when we use the term? Do we imagine a myriad of instances of the Spirit of God breaking the laws of nature and, if so, what are the theological and scientific implications of such a view? We might ask more practical questions. How often are our prayers for miracles effective (and how might we investigate this) and, if the percentage turns out to be low (or high), what does that mean? In fact, these questions are rarely asked. Even Pentecostal scholars tend to take the supernatural as a given, describing its centrality to Pentecostal culture, but rarely attending to the philosophical, theological, scientific and practical issues that pertain to these beliefs and practices.

With these vital questions in the background, Yong and his interlocutors ask us to think about how we might develop and encourage faith and hope in a God whose creative (and healing) power transcends scientific explanation (but does not contradict it) while, at the same time, not turning that faith into the sort of unthinking nonsense that should be its antithesis. The symposium takes on a dialogue that has been widely addressed by theologians and Christian scientists elsewhere but, precisely because of the claims it makes about

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healing and the miraculous, needs to be taken up by the PC community. As is apparent in the papers that constitute the symposium, there will be people who will agree with Yong and those that will disagree (as he notes, he will be challenged on both the left and the right). What is certain is that the process of thinking through “modern science and divine action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic imagination” is necessary if we hope to contribute constructively to a globalising culture that is informed, both consciously and unconsciously, by scientific disciplines. To name but one example (in addition to our theology of sickness/healing), the PC influence on issues of the environment and climate change is largely determined by our attitude to science.

As will be apparent in a review of the cover, this issue of APS has two key flavours. The first is the theology/science dialogue that I have discussed above and the second is a series of vignettes into Pentecostal communities throughout Asia and beyond. It is now widely recognised that Pentecostalism is a global and globalising movement. On the one hand PC communities share a “spirituality”, one that is not limited by doctrine or liturgy but that, nevertheless, constitutes a movement that is reshaping Christianity worldwide. On the other hand, Pentecostalism is made up of a radically diverse array of ideas, institutions and practices, much of which is informed by the process of indigenisation (sometimes described as glocalisation).

In this edition of the journal, we are given an insight into the spread and growth of Pentecostal churches in Asia. William K. Kay applies the sort of critical scientific approach we have advocated above to the study of the various factors that have facilitated Pentecostal growth. For those interested in Pentecostal studies, his article is essential reading, even if all one wants is an insight into the various approaches that have been used in scholarly attempts to describe and understand the movement - historical, sociological, psychological, theological and the like. More specifically, Kay draws on all this literature to develop 12 hypotheses that have been used to explain Pentecostal growth, such as; promoting integration, stabilisation and actualisation of personality?, providing free-flowing charismatic experience/worship to replace religious formalism, empowering women, associating with the forces of globalisation and promising personal health and prosperity et cetera. What he goes on to do is to put these hypotheses to the test in Hong Kong, Singapore

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and Kuala Lumpur, centres that are indicative of the sorts of trends that can be seen throughout Asia. Far be it for me to steal his thunder - I shall leave you to review his method and conclusions. In my judgement, his work in this study provides a unique insight, one that will come to inform other studies of Pentecostalism in the region.

After these broader global analyses, indigenised Pentecostalism is represented by the three articles that conclude the journal; a historical study of early Pentecostalism in Hong Kong (Connie Au), an analysis of prophetic movements in Ghana (Joseph Quayesi-Amakye), and our latest next-generation essay, an exploration of the social implications of Pentecostal theology as applied to the ongoing crises in Palestine (Paul Baker). These articles speak for themselves, and stand as evidence of the development of Pentecostal scholarship within Asia and Australasia, emerging as a compliment to the Academy in North America and Europe.

A Review Symposium on: Amos Yong The Spirit of Creation: Modern Science and Divine Action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic Imagination Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation: Modern Science and Divine Action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic Imagination. Pentecostal Manifestos 4 (Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011) Chair: L. William Oliverio, Jr., Lecturer in Theology, Marquette University Department of Theology, Milwaukee, Wisconsin (louis.oliverio@marquette. edu).

Panellists: Christopher Vena, Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology and Chair, Department of Bible and Theology, Toccoa Falls College, Toccoa Falls, Georgia (cvena@tfc.edu)

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Jack Wisemore, Professor of Philosophy, Northwest University, Kirkland, Washington (jack.wisemore@northwestu.edu) Frederick L. Ware, Associate Professor of Theology, Howard University School of Divinity, Washington, District of Columbia (flware@howard.edu) Douglas Olena, Adjunct Professor of Philosophy, Evangel University, Springfield, Missouri (doug@olena.com)

Respondent: Amos Yong, J. Rodman Williams Professor of Theology, Regent University School of Divinity, Virginia Beach, Virginia (ayong@regent.edu)

L. William Oliverio, Jr. - Introduction At least since the late-1990s pentecostal theology has shown signs of a breakout from the important but fairly limited tasks of articulating pentecostal doctrine and spirituality. Amos Yong has emerged as perhaps the leading figure of this breakout in scholarly pentecostal theologies, providing a number of recent forays into new frontiers for pentecostal theology. The potential for this breakout was latent in Yong’s thought from the publication of his first book, Discerning the Spirit(s) (2000), in which he linked Pentecostalism to his conception of a “pneumatological imagination.” Such an imagination allowed him to envision a pentecostal theology which “starts with the Spirit” and accounts for the multiplicity of spirits yet operates in relation to the many concrete realities of human existence. As an account of the pluralities of being, his pneumatological imagination has also provided a positive impetus for interdisciplinary complementarity between theology and other disciplines because it opens up space for understanding reality at a comprehensive and ultimate level, and thus legitimizes multiple modes of knowing. Yong’s pneumatological imagination does not consider “spirit” in either dualistic or vapid manners, but in terms of the realities which constitute the essence of what is being considered, providing concreteness and a bridge for discussions at the intersection of science and theology.

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In The Spirit of Creation: Modern Science and Divine Action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic Imagination, Yong forges ahead with an account of divine action which attempts to link together scientific and theological accounts. This comes not only through his pneumatological imagination but also through an eschatologically oriented attempt at retrieving a teleological understanding of the universe. In doing so, he is addressing broad and difficult questions.

Yong’s first objective, though, is simpler: to recount and move beyond the largely missing interaction between the Pentecostal-Charismatic traditions and scientific inquiry. He wants to claim space between reductionistic materialisms, on the one hand, and fantastic accounts of the spiritual, on the other.

In going forward, he then draws on an axiom, which he has established as central to his theology: the many tongues of Pentecost represent the multiplicity through which truth is spoken.

After covering his methodological bases and recounting historical and current work at the intersection of Pentecostalism and scientific inquiry, Yong’s project gets into full swing as he draws on an emergentist anthropology where higher levels of reality, resulting in human consciousness and mind, emerge from but are not reducible to lower systems. He eschews both mindbody dualism and reductionist physicalism. This emergentist anthropology leads, in turn, to an emergentist interdisciplinarity as the emergent levels of complexity of human existence produce multiple modes of inquiry for the many aspects of human existence. On these grounds, especially, he justifies the complementarity of science and theology.

That scientific and theological accounts of reality can be said to complement is one thing. Identifying the work of the Spirit and how divine action occurs is another. Yong turns to the work of the Divine Action Project, co-sponsored by the Vatican Observatory and the Center for Theology and the Natural Sciences (1988-2003), and draws from it, affirming one view that emerged from the project called noninterventionist objective (special) divine action (NIOSDA) in which the laws of nature are not suspended or intervened upon yet God’s special actions in the world, as the biblical narratives witness, actually do things in the world which are not just matters of

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subjective interpretation but are objective actions. This has led some to query if the causal joint is at the quantum level. Seeking to avoid a “God of the gaps,” Yong offers a seemingly tentative affirmation of Robert John Russell’s position that God acted in all quantum events prior to human consciousness and only some since, taking on a passivity to allow for creaturely autonomy and safeguarding divine transcendence. Drawing on Russell, Wolfhart Pannenberg and Ted Peters, Yong theologically reorients this discussion of divine action pneumatologically and eschatologically. The resurrection of Christ is the proleptic anticipation, a work of the Spirit through which God works from the future rather than efficient causes in the past. While it may not be possible to find a causal joint or understand the how of the Spirit’s actions in the world, we can say, in faith, he says, that divine action has occurred. The objectivity of divine action is found in the eschatological inbreaking of the kingdom of God towards God’s final purposes in the world.

This account might not be coherent if Yong was to subscribe to a necessitarian view regarding natural laws in which natural laws are never violated. Instead, he finds justification for a regularist view of the laws of nature, understanding them as having emerged with the becoming of the universe and as not static but evolutionary and dynamic. In making this move, he once again turns to the American pragmatist philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce as a resource for his thought. Yong, properly understood on his own terms, is a Peircean.

This regularist view is also further developed theologically as he finds divine empowerment and enablement to break into the world through those free agents who are amenable to cooperating with God’s purposes towards the coming kingdom. Thus charismatic gifts and miracles are “proleptic signs of the world to come” (128). Even as human will causes top-down action upon matter in regular human events, so also the divine will cause top-down action in the transformation of matter and the laws which regulate it.

For Yong, the cosmic history of the world is one which can be well accounted for by an emergentist perspective in which the new levels of reality which develop in cosmic and biological history are not reducible to their constituent parts but supervene upon them, even as they continue in dependence on their parts for their continued existence. This, he claims, correlates with a canonical-pneumatological reading of the creation accounts in Genesis 1-2

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where the ruach Elohim, understood in light of the wider revelation of Scripture, breathes life into an emerging creation. Such an account, Yong believes, not only can bring philosophical, scientific and biblical accounts together, but it also accounts for both the immanent and transcendent aspects of divine presence and activity. At the end of the book, Yong takes a turn that might be considered surprising. He investigates parapsychological research and finds some of it to actually be helpful in understanding reality over and against reigning materialist notions. He then concludes with ten speculative theses for his understanding of the pluralistic cosmos. The Spirit of Creation contains many intriguing theologoumena which, even if speculative, provide fodder for both insight and criticism, engendering response.

At the 2012 Annual Meeting of the Society for Pentecostal Studies, the Society’s Philosophy Interest Group provided an outlet for such. Four philosophically oriented scholars provided critical reviews of The Spirit of Creation, engaging Yong’s overall project along with many of his particular proposals.

In this well attended session, a variety of scholars of Pentecostalism also had philosophical and theological as well as scientific questions concerning Yong’s book and the reviews of it. In this issue of Australasian Pentecostal Studies we are presenting slightly modified versions of these four philosophical reviews, along with Yong’s response to them.

Chris Vena, of Toccoa Falls College (Stephens, Georgia), raises paradigmatic and methodological critiques before offering a significant philosophical-theological critique of Yong’s use of NIOSDA where he contends that Yong is effectively utilizing a “theological-hermeneutical” approach in which “Believing is Seeing” and a participatory ontology where “Believing is Being.”

Then Jack Wisemore of Northwest University (Kirkland, Washington) offers a sustained evaluation of Yong’s project coming from the basis of John MacMurray’s personalist philosophy, suggesting that a personalist approach would avoid some pitfalls for theology in its dialogue with science. Next Fred Ware of Howard University School of Divinity (Washington, DC) offers an assessment of the book from African American Pentecostalism, raises questions regarding a number of Yong’s speculative theses, and provides observations regarding the relations of science and theology to one another.

The last review comes from Doug Olena of Evangel University (Springfield,

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Missouri), who offers a sustained philosophical reflection on emergence theory and related scientific, philosophical and theological issues in response to Yong’s. Finally, Yong himself responds with an appreciative and clarifying rejoinder, furthering the discussion in line with the critiques and suggestions from the respondents, providing interested readers with continued discussion from Yong on several themes from The Spirit of Creation.

Christopher Vena - “Science, the Spirit, and Interdisciplinarity: A Review of Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation” Recently, a very devout and very conservative former colleague of mine was shocked to learn that two of his three young adult children had walked away from Christianity and publicly embraced atheism. The tipping point for both of them had been an inability to merge the narrative of Young Earth Creationism (YEC)—which they believed to be foundational for Christian faith— with what they believed to be a more compelling scientific account of human and cosmological origins. In particular, the evidences for a cosmos several billion years old and an evolutionary structure to biological origins were too strong to ignore. In their situation, they felt they had to choose between science and faith, with truth and factuality residing on the side of science.

These and many similar cases underscore the need for theology to be conversant with contemporary science in a way that does not simply polarize the disciplines. If one must choose, more and more are siding with science. This should not be surprising since our culturally conditioned view of the world is deeply influenced and shaped by scientific disciplines. We have a scientific view of the world about most things; why not also in the realm of origins or the age of the cosmos? Is there a place for faith and theology in the discussion?

Amos Yong’s book The Spirit of Creation seeks to articulate not only the importance of Pentecostals engaging in and learning from dialogue with the scientific community, but also offers a way of thinking about how Pentecostals can contribute to it. There is much to commend in this work, not least Yong’s re-imagining the possibility of Divine Action (DA) in a scientifically informed reality that has often resisted the idea of God’s meddling in the cos-

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mos. Furthermore, I think he is on the right track in mining the Christian theological tradition—and Pentecostal-Charismatic spirituality in particular—as a conceptual tool for explaining both scientific and pietistic experiences.

In this essay, I will be responding to Yong’s claims as an Evangelical with Pentecostal-Charismatic (PC) connections and sympathies. I am denominationally affiliated with the Christian and Missionary Alliance and its roots in the Holiness movement. In addition I have a long family history in both the Assemblies of God and the Church of God (Cleveland, TN), so I am not a complete stranger to PC circles. However, while I can speak the language in this context, I do so with an “accent.” In many ways I am reminded of a summer I spent in England during college: I could understand most of the words, but they sounded and felt very strange.

After beginning with a brief overview of the book’s argument, I want to point out three areas of critique and conclude with a small list of minor concerns.

The three points of critique are paradigmatic, methodological, and philosophical-theological. In most of these cases, I am looking primarily for clarification and/or justification of the ideas presented.

Overview

Yong deftly moves the argument from the generalities of pentecostal perspectives on science to a specific Pentecostal-Charismatic construct of a Spirit-filled creation. Along the way he takes time to build important conceptual markers that pave the way for Pentecostals to not just have a voice in the dialogue, but also to be in position to offer constructive explanatory proposals that move the dialogue forward. The first three chapters deal specifically with pentecostal concerns beginning with a history of engagement with science (chapter 1), then shifting to a scientific appraisal of pentecostal phenomena (chapter 2), before culminating in a pentecostal perspective on Divine Action (chapter 3). Perhaps the most significant moments of Yong’s argument are in chapter 4, where he suggests a reconsideration of the essence of Natural Laws using C. S. Pierce’s triadic metaphysics. Yong suggests that these “laws” are better understood as “regularities” or “habits,” which can explain both the normal repetitiveness of their occurrences and the possibil-

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ity of deviations that do not violate the structures of reality. This leads to a reimagining of the possibility of Divine Action in and through the regularities of natural processes. This is followed in chapter 5 with a proposal for an eschatological, teleological, and emergent account of Divine Action through the Spirit that borrows heavily from Philip Clayton’s theory of emergence.

Finally, these discussions pave the way for Yong’s admittedly speculative construal in chapter 6 of a pneumatological cosmology that arises out of and is shaped by dialogue with parapsychology.

Three critiques Again, I like a good deal of what Yong does in this book. In fact, I see resources here for my own work in eco-theology, particularly in the conceptuality of Divine Action teleologically oriented and “charismatically accomplished” in and through the regularities of creation. However, I would like to address three areas for greater clarity.

A Paradigmatic Critique The subtitle of the book speaks about engaging the science and theology discussion within a PC Imagination. I am assuming Yong’s idea of PC Imagination could be roughly paralleled to Charles Taylor’s idea of “social imaginaries” which constitute the way of and possibilities for understanding and interacting within the world that are shared by a community.

In this way the PC Imagination is constructed and reinforced by PC spirituality and practice (charismatic experiences of the Spirit). For Yong this takes on the form of a robust pneumatology, which is then appropriated into the science-theology discussion.

I wonder though if there is not a gap—perhaps only epistemological on my part—between PC spirituality and practice on the one hand, and Yong’s pneumatology on the other. This is not to question whether his pneumatology is an adequate theological model to account for PC experiences of the Spirit (I think it is), but whether it necessarily flows from these experiences. To put it less strongly, should we think of Yong’s pneumatology more as useful to PC spirituality than as distinctively derived from it? Could not this pneumatol-

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ogy just as easily have been constructed from the resources of Christian theologians, traditions, and experiences external to Yong’s own? In many ways I think we probably share a similarly shaped theology of the Spirit—one that illuminates my own, decidedly non-charismatic, experiences of the Spirit.

This may have to do more with similar philosophical and theological influences in our graduate educations, rather than a shared form of spirituality and practice. This leads me to my next point.

I offer here an Outsider’s Perception—perhaps I am not quite catching the “accent” of the theological dialect. When I compare my experiences of Evangelicalism and Pentecostalism, it seems to me that the distinctiveness of the latter is seen most clearly at the ground level, in the lived faith practices of the worshipping local church, and not so clearly at the level of the academic practice of theology. In fact, very often there are no significant theological differences apart from those beliefs that touch directly upon issues of charismata. This leads me to wonder: Is there a unique theological paradigm, conceptuality, or methodology that can rightly be labeled “Pentecostal” that is not already employed by theologians of other traditions?

I am not, of course, denying doctrinal distinctives. Rather, I am asking whether there is a unique character or quality of PC theology that is rooted in PC spirituality. Not surprisingly, PC scholarship has emphasized the person and work of the Spirit, which makes sense in light of the strong emphasis on the Spirit’s ongoing activity in PC spirituality. Thus pentecostal theologians tend to have a strong pneumatology that reflects and illuminates their worship practices. But they do not own pneumatology and not every well-developed pneumatology wants to self-identify with that tradition.

This leads me to again wonder what exactly is distinctive and unique about PC theology.

In particular, what makes Yong’s pneumatology PC? This is a genuine question of clarity. In so far as it has been shaped by engagements with philosophy (Peirce, emergence theory) and science (evolutionary biology, quantum physics), it has the feel of other, non-pentecostal pneumatologies. Perhaps it carries the label of PC because it is formulated by a Pentecostal for Pentecostals. If this is so, then its character as PC is in its usage and usefulness within that context, and not intrinsically a part of the

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logic of pneumatology itself. Many Relational and Trinitarian approaches embrace and articulate a robust pneumatology outside of a PC identity.

Could this have not also been called a Trinitarian contribution to the science and theology dialogue? Could we also be talking about a Trinitarian-Christian Imagination?

If I may make a challenge to Yong in this area, it would be to continue to bring in connections with concrete examples of PC practices. I know this topic has been treated elsewhere, but I would like it to be more explicit here.

I think this only makes his argument stronger.

A Methodological Critique The second critique is methodological in nature and concerns heuristic imagery employed by Yong connecting tongues at Pentecost with the idea of Interdisciplinarity. Yong makes the claim that the Tongues imagery of Acts 2 constitutes a theological justification for interdisciplinarity [162]. Here I question whether justification is too strong of a term to describe the connection that exists in the illustration, and whether Yong’s own model reflect the same kind of relation between theology and other disciplines.

Yong makes the claim that pneumatology, and the particular image of the multiplicity of tongues at Pentecost, “provides theological legitimacy for the plurality of disciplines in the sciences” [169-170]. What I wonder is whether this “legitimacy” should be understood in a strong or weak sense? A strong sense would entail justification so that an imperative naturally flows from it; we must engage reality in this multidisciplinary way because theology demands it. A weaker sense of legitimacy would indicate that the plurality of tongues is simply a way of illustrating, from a theological perspective, an imperative grounded in the nature of reality itself. In other words, we must engage reality in this way because reality presents itself to us in this way.

In general, I agree with the multi-disciplinary approach, which could be referred to as a “mosaic approach” to understanding the world. Each scientific discipline renders a description of that dimension of reality that falls within its scope of inquiry. These descriptions overlap with other disciplinary ac-

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counts to give a richer “picture” of reality than possible through a singular lens. Theology, in theory, lends its voice—its piece—to the mosaic.

The challenge of this methodology, at least epistemically, is finding a way to link the descriptions into a coherent narrative, how to get them to speak with one another and not just as a cacophony of discordant, unrelated noises. The stated goal of the methodology is to preserve the distinctiveness of each discipline while not privileging one over any other [169-170]. However, it seems that Yong cannot help but to privilege theology (scientifically-constrained as it is) for its ability to provide a narrative cohesiveness to all other explanatory accounts.

Science is purposefully limited to descriptive claims about replicable inquiries presuming a causal sequence that can be observed in some sense…Theology can go further, in faith, to assert divine activity at each of these emergent levels (and more) and in providentially sustaining the world and its creatures even within these levels [170].

Yong’s is a scientifically shaped theology, one that gives cohesion and purpose to the plurality of voices. Theology serves as the narrative thread that weaves the diverse inquiries into a common story. It is both a focal point of inquiry, but also the glue that binds and connects disparate strands of inquiry.

This does not reduce all accounts into theology, but it does seem to integrate them all into a theological framework.

While this move is largely acceptable to theologians, scientists without faith commitments may resist it. It also illustrates the tenuous nature of the dialogue between theology and science, especially as it regards the ways the disciplines influence one another. The tendency is for one to impose limitations upon the other, to assume a position of primacy. I again appreciate Yong’s navigating of these relationships and attempts to uphold a multi-disciplinary approach. What I am still unclear on is how the illustration of Tongues pushes the discussion forward.

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A Philosophical-Theological Critique My third and final critique will deal with philosophical and theological issues. In this section I will focus on two areas: the nature of the God-world relation and the possibility of an objectively knowable Divine Agency (DA).

God’s relation to the world I find much of Yong’s theological argument compelling, particularly the re-imagining of the nature of DA in light of a contemporary understanding of the nature of natural laws. Seeing the regularities of natural “laws” as habits or tendencies opens up the conceptual space for conceiving DA in the world. This is done in part to satisfy the criteria of a scientifically acceptable account of DA [79].

Lying in the background of this discussion is an assumption of how God’s being and agency relates to the physical world of our experience. This is often framed in the language of transcendence and immanence: how is God both wholly other and yet intimately related to the world?

My question for Yong here is: how does God relate to the world so that the Spirit can manifest noninterventionist/objective agency? In other words, how does Yong metaphysically preserve the immanent/transcendent dimensions of God so that a non-interventionist DA can be at work?

Perhaps Yong has addressed this elsewhere in his work, but I did not see it strongly presented here. He speaks of the need to understand immanence/ transcendence in a pneumatological framework, but I would like to see how that claim is buttressed metaphysically. When Yong argues that a “pneumatologically informed metaphysic…requires is to hold the immanent and transcendent aspects of divine presence and activity together” [163], I think he is correct. But it is not enough to state this as true; I would like to see it fleshed out philosophically. From what I have read here, I would guess that Yong holds to some form of panenetheism, perhaps a version with a specific emphasis upon God’s being and presence as Spirit. I would also suggest that he make sure the construct is sufficiently Trinitarian.

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Yong’s “charismatically accomplished” DA does fit nicely into an explicitly Trinitarian metaphysical framework [128]. In this I see much consonance with the work of LeRon Shults, perhaps not surprisingly since Yong acknowledges Shults’s influence regarding the matter of absolute futurity [94, n. 59].

The latter’s conceptuality of true infinity provides a compelling argument for holding immanence and transcendence together in a way that does not collapse into either metaphysical dualism on the one hand, or a pantheism on the other.

Shults’s robust Trinitarianism does not merely incorporate a strong pneumatology, but is itself pneumatically constituted in a way that should be amenable to a PC imagination.

Objectivity of Divine Action The second part of the philosophical-theological critique has to do with the second criteria for NIOSDA: objectivity of DA. In particular, I wonder if Yong is able to secure the objectivity of DA through his pneumatico-teleological framing. Throughout much of his earlier discussion on DA as “hidden except to the eyes of faith,” Yong seems to be advocating a strongly subjectivist position [95]. Does the teleological aspect of future purpose rescue it from subjectivity? I like the hermeneutical-theological interpretation approach to DA, but I wonder if teleology is strong enough to secure its objectivity. What eventually becomes clear is that Yong is not altogether trying to avoid subjectivity by escaping into objectivity, but arguing for a subjectivity endowed with objective reality, albeit it teleologically located. His approach is clearly subjective; it is just not merely subjective (or epistemic).

Yong believes the objectivity of DA is secured in three ways [100].

First, he argues against a strong bifurcation of objectivity-subjectivity or epistemology-ontology based upon the assumption of a relational, participatory universe. Thus one’s perspective is never “merely” subjective, but a means by which we engage and live in the world.

Second, he suggests Christian witness is not merely descriptive, but a “perlocutionary modality” in which the testimony is a part of the way DA is accomplished. Finally, Yong notes that objectivity ought to be located not in terms of efficient or material causality, but in the coming Kingdom and

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ultimate purposes of Creation. In this sense, DA understood as “generating value” rather than being understood in terms of “efficient or material causation” [168, n. 80].

It could be argued that Yong is pulling a philosophical-theological “fast one” on the NIOSDA criteria. By collapsing the bifurcation of objectivity/subjectivity he is in effect denying the validity of the same criteria that he is trying to meet. While there may be good reasons to follow this route philosophically, does it not call into question the need to use objectivity as a criterion?

Yong wants to avoid a merely subjective or epistemic approach to identifying DA, and seems to be affirming that this can be done through a teleological reframing of perception. What also seems to be going on, at the very least in conjunction with this reframing, is the advocacy of a participatory ontology.

If this is so, then the second part of this critique is connected to the first. What is a sufficient metaphysical account that can carry this claim? Without this relational ontology, a non-interventionist view of DA can only be subjective.

In contrast to a scientific-empirical methodology toward detecting DA (Seeing is Believing) stands a theological-hermeneutic approach (Believing is Seeing). The two are dependent on one another for a more comprehensive view of reality. The former cannot, in principle, provide anything other than a descriptive account of the physical world; the latter endows that description with meaning and purpose. A participatory ontology goes even farther, building on or supporting the theological-hermeneutical account. The subjective (Believing is Seeing) forms the participatory dimension of our being-in-theworld (Believing is Being). Again, I would suggest an explicit and robust Trinitarianism does all the necessary heavy conceptual lifting to make this plausible.

While I find this kind of a move compelling, I wonder if it will it be acceptable to those operating within the frame of criteria that constitutes NIOSDA, particularly those outside the disciplines of philosophy and theology? I do not see any reason that it cannot in principle satisfy those criteria, but it may require challenging and revising them. Perhaps this is one area where theologyphilosophy can contribute to the interdisciplinary dialogue.

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Minor concerns In addition to the three areas of critique above, I offer three minor concerns.

First, I suggest that Yong’s ultimate conclusions may be too dependent upon emergence and supervenience theories. This is the classic concern about hitching one’s theological wagon to particular scientific or philosophical horses. It seems to me that Yong’s arguments and conclusions will be severely hampered if these fall out of favor. I understand that all constructive proposals are dependent upon conceptual structures, but is the success or failure (or explanatory power) of his approach contingent on the success of these philosophical theories?

A second concern is more practical and concerns relatability to the non-academic. Would Yong’s thesis be recognizable to the average Pentecostal (or Evangelical)? Even (and maybe especially) for those inside a faith paradigm, many will find this account of DA hard to swallow. For a culture that has been conditioned to understand “causality” in terms of efficient or material force, it is a challenge to think in teleological terms. I am not suggesting that this negates the validity of his arguments, but it may present a caution that there is still heavy lifting to do at the ground level. Powerful academic ideas, like the ones Yong presents, must find their way into the communities of faith if they are going to help facilitate the kind of dialogue and change Yong seems to desire. The PC imagination can only be fueled by these ideas if they can be understood by the majority of those living out of that imagination.

Third and finally, an analogical reading of Genesis 1 and 2 is not generally well accepted in conservative Churches. There is an a priori rejection of this hermeneutic approach among evangelicals (and in my experience, Pentecostals). Many in my educational and ecclesial context would be very uncomfortable with Yong’s reading, and likely to denounce it as a capitulation to “godless Evolution.” Again, this is more a challenge to communication and implementation rather than a direct challenge to the ideas themselves.

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Conclusion Yong’s arguments are complex, layered, and nuanced. While this adds richness to his work, it may also prove a stumbling block to undergraduate students, who may struggle to follow the current of thought without a sufficient background in the theology and science dialogue, or a similar grounding in philosophy.

That being said, I think Yong’s book can be an excellent resource for seminarians, graduate students, and studied laity. It makes a nice contribution to the ongoing science and theology dialogue, especially, but not limited to, Pentecostals interesting in exploring this intersection in their specific faith context. Perhaps this work, and others like it, can aid inquisitive and questioning minds seeking to make sense of their faith in a scientifically informed world. It is my hope that they no longer feel the pressure to choose between faith and science, but can come to see how the two may dialogue and enrich one another.

Jack Wisemore - The Better Angels of Our (Emergent) Nature: A Pentecostal-Personalist Appraisal of Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation Introduction Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation is an intentional and self-consciously pentecostal encounter with science. Rather than engaging in defensive polemics or doing obeisance to science, he utilizes a complementarian approach bringing both sides to the table in an attempt to gain a better understanding of each. As a result, Yong proposes a teleological model of divine action and a pneumatologically informed emergentist cosmology. No one should minimize the scale, scope, and difficulty of the project he has undertaken.

The scale is immense—the very cosmos itself. The scope entails bringing into one conceptual space both Pentecostals and scientists, whose methods are often perceived as being diametrically opposed to each other. The difficulties include, but are not limited to, the following: (1) the problems of expressing new ideas within the conceptual framework implicitly enshrined

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in the standard languages of theology, philosophy and science; (2) including Pentecostals in the dialog—a tradition which is only recently finding its own theological voice; and (3) avoiding land mines and pitfalls all while taking fire from both sides of the discussion. Yong is to be congratulated for both the attempt and the result of this endeavor. This is an important work worthy of the title manifesto.

I will be focusing my comments primarily upon the ontological, and to a lesser extent the theological, aspects of the manuscript, what Yong calls the minor theses of the book (31), while only touching upon the scientific issues as they arise. This is as much an acquiescence to my lack of expertise in the philosophy of science as it is to the limitations of space and time. In doing this I am mindful that it places Yong at a slight disadvantage, with science hedging him in on one side while I have considerable room to maneuver.

One further disclaimer: I approach Yong’s work with a set of presuppositions that arise in part from my reading of John Macmurray—a Scottish personalist whose works I have been attracted to, in part, because of similar issues that I believe attract Yong to Peirce and Clayton.

Central to Macmurray’s thought was the notion of persons-in-relation and a categorization of metaphysics based upon the root metaphors of atomistic, organic, and personal. Again, I am cognizant of the potential hazards this may cause in my interaction with the text; I do not want to fall into the trap I sometimes see where analytic philosophers criticize continental philosophers simply for not being analytic and vice versa. I will attempt to be self-conscious in identifying the peculiarly personalistic criticisms of Yong’s work and recognize that these may not be as convincing to those who do not share some of these personalistic assumptions.

Yong’s Ontological Proposal in Brief Yong draws from a number of sources to create his ontological proposal, combining strong emergentism and weak supervenience, process philosophy, habituation, and teleology into one coherent package.

Yong utilizes the notions of emergentism and supervenience in his initial interactions with science (58–61). The simplest way to understand emergent-

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ism is to picture reality as a layered affair, where each layer has its own ways and means peculiar to it but which also interacts in some way with adjacent layers. The layer below is simpler than the layer above and when the lower level reaches a sufficient level of complexity, the upper level emerges from the lower level. The newly formed upper level operates according to its own novel and peculiar modes and processes which cannot be completely understood, explained, or anticipated from the qualities and processes of the lower level. The fact that higher levels emerge from lower levels implies that there is an upward causation which occurs between layers so that the lower level provides boundary conditions and influences events at the higher level. What distinguishes emergentism from materialistic naturalism (such as epiphenomenalism) is that in addition to this upward causation, emergentism holds to downward causation, where the more complex level is able to influence and effect change at the lower level. Yong sees the biological, psychological, and the sociological as the key emergent levels for ontological analysis (65).

In order to describe the manner in which the higher level interacts with the lower level, Yong adopts a form of supervenience advocated by Murphy. He approvingly quotes Murphy: “higher-level properties supervene on lower-level properties if they are partially constituted by the lower-level properties but are not directly reducible to them” (61).

Murphy’s form of supervenience, which Yong designates weak supervenience, is not universally accepted as true supervenience, as Yong duly notes (61). An example of this contrary position is found in the following: The emergentist is obviously being guided by the metaphor of layers, and interprets supervenience in that light. However, while one sometimes uses the metaphor of layers to describe the world as portrayed by supervenience physicalism, it would be more apt to say—as Lewis says in the example of the dot-matrix picture that we considered above—that that [sic] doctrine presents the psychological, the biological and so on as patterns in the physical, rather than layers on top of the physical. So the picture implicit in emergentism is that of a layered world, whereas the picture implicit in supervenience physicalism is that of a patterned world.

Yong refers to this epiphenomena-like approach as strong supervenience/

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weak emergence where the direction of influence is always bottom-up. The form of emergentism that Yong is advocating, weak supervenience/strong emergence, however, allows for more novelty and unpredictability at the more complex level and for the existence of top-down causation.

Using the weak form of supervenience as a means of explaining emergentism, Yong then integrates this into the more comprehensive processemergentism of Clayton (64, 144–51). It is this larger perspective which allows Yong to re-introduce the notion of final causes, or teleology, to account for the direction of development in emergent reality, an emergent reality where there is weak supervenience between levels or layers of reality. Yong understands this teleology to be particularly eschatological and proleptic (87–88) and therefore theological—not scientific (141–44).

In the course of discussing the nature of natural laws in conjunction with this re-introduction of final causes, Yong employs Peirce’s idea of habituation in a way which is not theologically dependent (as in the classical treatment of final causes) yet not antithetical to a theistic interpretation. Explaining Peircean habituation, Yong quotes Hulswit: “Like human habits, habits of nature (laws of nature) are final causes because they display tendencies toward an end state” (121).

To the personalist it makes perfect sense to combine the notions of emergence, process, habituation, and teleology because all of these concepts are seen as being guided by the same organic metaphor and therefore make natural bedfellows. These concepts are conducive to evolutionary theory (a particular advantage for Yong in his dialog with science), making them strongly developmental without becoming merely mechanistic.

Advantages for Pentecostals (and Others) There are many reasons in general for Pentecostals to embrace Yong’s proposal. Regarding ontology there are four aspects that are particularly attractive. First, Yong’s process-emergentism provides a way to navigate between the false dilemma of physicalism and dualism. Physicalism has never been a strong option for Pentecostals because of the recognition that there is more to this world than the merely physical. Dualism, how-

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ever, is more of a temptation, but it leads to numerous problems for Pentecostals in a number of core theological areas, such as healing and eschatology, which are often variations of the classic mind–body problem.

Second, and related to the first, is the relativizing of deterministic cause-andeffect. Even for those who do not hold to physicalism, the cultural pressure to understand change in terms of mechanistic causation is substantial. Whether it is expressed in terms of magical forms of prayer where God is treated like a vending machine or when human choices are rendered impotent by mechanistic views of God’s sovereignty, cause and effect is powerfully present.

Teleology, with its flexibility regarding actual outcomes, is much more in keeping with pentecostal sensibilities about how human beings participate in the world—impinged upon and limited but not forced or controlled.

Third, Yong’s proposal allows for the inclusion of angels and spiritual reality, an inclusion which is neither ad hoc nor bordering on special pleading.

While one may be an emergentist and not incorporate or address angelic being Yong’s discussion arises organically (no pun intended) from his overarching framework.

A fourth advantage is the way emergentism allows one to embrace science while at the same time relativizing it by restricting it to its appropriate sphere and concerns. At the very least emergentism helps to account for the variety/ plurality of sciences and for the faithful it can also justify the belief that not all realities are open to exhaustive scientific explanation—leaving the world open to mystery and the Divine.

While this is not an exhaustive catalog of the benefits of Yong’s ontology there are clearly advantages commending it for pentecostal adoption. As with any complex proposal such as this, however, many questions arise regarding both the proposal itself and its implications.

Clarifying Emergentism The first question raised by Yong’s emergentism is the utility of supervenience to describe the relation between emergent levels. Yong recognizes that supervenience is a contentious term and that Murphy ultimately is using it

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in a Lakatosian sense as a research program (62). He ultimately defends it pragmatically: However, I see it [supervenience] linked closely to emergence theory, and at present do not know of a better overall metaphysical hypothesis that can adjudicate between the methodological naturalism of scientific inquiry and the metaphysical pluralism of theological reflection (61).

But does it actually have this capacity to act as a bridge? My sense (and, admittedly, this is not my area) is that those who hold the more traditional strong supervenient position do not accept the weak form and all it does is raise the specter of vitalism for them. Admittedly, I enjoyed the discussion describing how the layers interact, but fundamentally the problem of describing any causation is problematic and so I do not see how this really contributes to justifying emergentism; it only seems to raise additional red flags for those he is trying to convince.

Furthermore, I am not sure that I want to sacrifice this much in order to accommodate naturalism, of course this is a luxury that I can afford since I am not in direct dialog with science.

A second question regarding emergentism is its temporal nature.

According to emergentism, there is an ontological hierarchy which is temporally determined—chronologically what comes later is more complex and therefore exists at a higher level of reality. This stresses temporal priority.

Yet I wonder how this developmentalism squares with notions of The Fall.

Along with temporal priority, emergentism also stresses temporal continuity: you cannot get from A to Z without passing through B, C, D, etc. How does this work with the resurrection of the body, if some kind of temporal (or material) continuity is required?

It seems that human consciousness functions supra-temporally as it is able to move forward (imaginatively), backward (memory), and is able to survive temporal gaps in its continuity (while sleeping).

One of the greatest attractions of emergentism is its superiority over various Cartesian solutions to the mind–body problem. Within this emergentist framework there are various types of emergentism, including property emergentism, substance emergentism, and Murphy’s non-reductive physi-

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calism. While it is clear from Yong’s writings that he is advocating emergentism, it is not clear which particular type of emergentism he holds.

Substance emergentism holds that what emerges from lower levels may be sufficiently different so as to constitute a new ontological reality able to exist independently of the lower level. Hasker, for example, holds that there are two levels of substance, the physical and the spiritual, where the physical exists prior to the spiritual but that once the spiritual emerges from the physical it is capable of existing separately from the physical.

Hasker’s form of dualism is not Cartesian, however, for while there are two substances, it is in the nature of emergence for there to be both upward and downward causation. In this way emergent dualism is more akin to Aquinas’ form of “dualism.”

Therefore, one of the great difficulties of Cartesian dualism is overcome in emergent dualism; the mind–body problem is dissolved because there is a natural causal connection between the two substances.

What is more problematic for emergent dualists is how exactly it is possible for these causally-intertwined, yet fully independent, substances to exist separately.

Property emergentism holds that while many levels of reality may emerge, what emerges is never sufficiently different so as to be capable of independent existence apart from the lower levels.

Therefore, only one substance exists, but new properties emerge for the one substance. Typically this one substance is physical with chemical, biological, and the rest accruing to it. My impression is that what Murphy calls non-reductive physicalism is a variant of this approach but I have always found that terminology frustrating because it has always struck me as too paradoxical for actual use.

In the case of Yong, what is interesting is sometimes he talks as if he holds to the property emergent form of emergentism, for example when he explicitly states that he sees his emergentism as a defense against dualism, while at other times he seems to hold to a form of substance emergentism. The latter is particularly pronounced when he is speaking about the possibility of disembodied human spirits surviving the destruction of their physical bodies (175–77, 202–3).

I think it is easier for substance emergentism to incorporate property emer-

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gentism within it by simply saying that the unexpected and unpredictable leap that occurs when spirit comes into existence is sufficient to constitute referring to it as a new substance, while the properties which emerge below this threshold are insufficiently distinct to constitute a new substance. I think that Yong would be helped by being explicit in this respect because many conversant with the discussion may be caught off guard by his advocacy of disembodied spirits which is almost always interpreted in terms of Cartesian dualism.

The final issue I will raise is completely driven by personalistic presuppositions and intuitions: emergentism has always struck me as atomism-plus. Its foundation functions like atomism at lower levels of reality and then tacks on the bare minimum necessary to account for reality at the higher biological levels. From within emergentism this can be seen as an advantage because it is consistent with emergentism’s own methodology and is parsimonious. Yet these very aspects, for a personalist, appear minimalistic and are seen as part of the reason that it needs to be augmented with a more full-blown system like Clayton’s process philosophy. Yet even Clayton’s process-emergentism seems reductionistic to the personalist, for while it calls for a personal God (151), the descriptions ultimately seem more organic than fully personal.

Differentiating Teleology and Eschatology Yong accurately identifies the importance of eschatology in pentecostal thought and he is right to introduce it into his ontological discussion. He does a great service by emphasizing that an eschatological approach does not simply substitute a form of post-determinism for the prevailing pre-determinism (94). In personalist terms this mistake is simply reversing the mechanicalcausal flow and is therefore sub-personal.

However, the teleological descriptions of eschatology still sound, to a personalist’s ear, as too organic, too developmental, too evolutionary. In fact, Macmurray used the term teleological (in an Aristotelian sense) as a hallmark of organic thought. I have tried to not simply read this term through Macmurrian lenses, but Yong’s eschatology seems consistent with other emerging realities—so that one could understand the emergence of life (or self-con-

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sciousness) as an eschatological event, as what occurs when the underlying reality becomes sufficiently complex. I think the eschatological action of God is more than an unpredictable eruption from the complexity of the present world. The coming of the kingdom is not caused by the increasing complexity of the world, the kingdom is not a natural process born out of the present world. It is an act of a personal God, where God’s future transforms the world.

In Yong’s statements regarding the kingdom one might hear the echoes of process theologians’ notorious discomfort with God acting within creation in concrete ways.

If I am correctly understanding Yong he wants to safeguard the very real and very free actions of humanity so that God’s future is not overly postdetermined (96). I would agree with that. I would agree that what God is doing is more than a mere re-interpretation (97); I am glad Yong makes this statement because I thought he might be headed in that direction (e.g., 8889, 97–98, 116). I would agree with Yong that God’s future is qualitatively different (94, n. 59). But that doesn’t mean that God’s activities are merely qualitative. I was troubled by the statement that the Spirit’s actions are constituted by human actions (95) yet I was relieved when he nuanced the statement to state that this constitution was not exhaustive, as well as his statement that the kingdom is not simply a matter of human progress (101).

I agree the Spirit typically works through creation (particularly, but not exclusively, in human action) and I believe this is what Yong is getting at. Yet I am concerned that his ontology may be hindering him as much as it is helping him in expressing these particular ideas.

Perhaps this a good place to remember that when discussing the eschaton we are thrown back on metaphor and analogy. Yet, when we choose our metaphors and analogies, it is wise to choose rich metaphors and in my judgment those with strong inter-subjectivity and active agency are strongest.

It’s not that personal language of action and choice are missing from Yong’s treatment of teleology or emergentism—it is rather that they are used within a larger organic framework which pushes their meaning in a sub-personal direction.

This is seen very clearly in the discussion of Peirce’s habituation which speaks of tendencies but does not seem able to fully capture the idea of personal choices.

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Both the personal and the organic may use the same terms but they are understood differently. Purpose, for the organic, is about function or the end-state.

In a more personal perspective purpose is about intention, motivation, and creation.

When speaking about the relation of the present age and the age to come I differentiate between apocalyptic dualism (an atomistic approach where the old is annihilated and completely replaced by the new creation progress), progress (an organic understanding where the new develops or evolves out of the old), and the eschatological (a personalist understanding where the new radically transforms the old).

Apocalyptic Dualism (Atomistic):

Perhaps it is unfair but I picture emergence and process thought as being developmental in this evolutionary, progressive sense. I am sure that my preferred imagery is inadequate and open to criticism as well but I think that it does get to a point of real differentiation between an emergent (natural) universe and a personal universe.

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Emerging Angelic Beings Some may see Yong’s engagement with the topic of angelic beings1 as unfortunate. At best he is engaging in unverifiable speculation (how very unscientific) and at worst he is being counterproductive by undermining his credibility by even raising the topic. I strongly disagree. Angels are an important element within the pentecostal cosmos and to not address them in a pentecostal ontology is simply not an option. Furthermore, I am coming to believe angels function something like a Rorschach test for metaphysics, revealing fundamental assumptions about reality that often are only implicit in ordinary ontological discussions.2 For Yong’s proposal, this means that angels have to be accounted for in a way which is consistent with the emergent-process ontology without suddenly changing the rules of the game.3 I think for the most part Yong succeeds in this and he is to be commended for it.

Following his emergent-process approach, Yong sees angels as post-human corporate beings emerging from the complexity of human interactions in a way which is unpredictable and governed by differing norms and processes.4 1 Here I am using the term angelic beings as short-hand for all existents such as angels, demons, principalities and powers that Yong addresses.

2 “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin” is typically invoked as a cliché to emphasize the irrelevance of metaphysical speculation, but when you start asking questions about whether angels are capable of occupying space (i.e., do angels have bodies?) you start to unveil deeper assumptions about the fundamental nature of creation. If angels do in fact have bodies (of some type) then all creatures are at least spatial which implies some type of physical or corporeal minimum to actual existence. If they do not then we know of at least one creature in the universe that does not have a body of some kind, opening up more diverse possibilities for actual existence.

3 This is different than addressing the issue of the existence of God because God is not a creature and therefore stands outside these systems. This is why Yong is not out of line to see the possibility of accepting process metaphysics while rejecting its conception of God (203–4n87).

However, as I mentioned above I am not convinced some of the theological presuppositions have not seeped in.

4 “In sum, then, angelic spirits are emergent from their material substrates, constituted by but also thereafter irreducible to their outward physical forms. On the one hand, as agents of God who assist in the salvation of personal beings, they also are personal realities; on the other hand, as emergent from the complex matrices that constitute human relationships and their multiple environments, what we call angels are higher-level transpersonal or suprapersonal realities, constituted by and supervening upon the human relations from which they derive” (216).

Although Yong provides this definition he does not deny the possibility that at least some angels could also have a different evolutionary path and so not be directly emergent from the human ontological level, at least this seems to be the implication of his discussion of Wink and the powers (204).

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For example, Yong interprets the biblical phrase “the angel of the church” as meaning the ontological reality that has emerged from the social construct that is that particular congregation (221).This places angels in a position of ontological superiority to humans while still allowing for some form of causal interaction between human and angelic realities—something necessary for any theory which would treat the biblical data in any realistic sense.

One added feature of Yong’s account allows for angelic beings to appear to humanity in something akin to human form (while clearly more than merely human), just as I imagine humans must appear to dogs and cats as animals with amazing and mysterious qualities and powers. Moreover, I must admit to being intrigued with the possibility of angels as corporate persons.

Coming from a personalistic perspective, however, I see human beings as essentially communal, as persons-in-relation, and so I place that ontological reality clearly in the realm of the personal and this would militate against Yong’s understanding of the angelic—which is essentially the emergent social reality. Furthermore, there is a feature of human existence which the biblical texts do not (at least to my mind and/or recollection) include in the accounts of angelic existence; this is the capacity for friendship with God. We see angels portrayed as servants of God, as worshiping God, and as rebelling.5 We see angels in some kind of relationship to institutions and governments. We do not, however, see them as exhibiting friendship with God, which seems to break the composite or additive trajectory of emergent ontology. Of course it is possible, since emergent levels are unpredictable in terms of the lower level, that angelic ontology is not composite in the way that the biological retains the physical and the personal retains the biological and the physical (as our current experience demonstrates), but it is suspicious.

Another question is the manner of the relations between persons and institutions. For Yong, institutions of sufficient complexity generate emergent spiritual beings. This position helps emphasize the role of institutions in effecting human life, as opposed to certain individualistic positions, and it underscores that institutions almost take on a life of their own (205). However, the ques5 Here I am assuming some type of volition, although this may not be the case if the demonic is in fact simply an emergence of distorted human relations (217). On a related note: why does Yong question the downward efficacy of the demonic (220)? I assume there is some issue of consistency here with his understanding of negation, but I don’t entirely follow his point.

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tion to my mind is as follows: are the very real influences of institutions upon human beings more like fully personal intentional actions or are they more like ingrained habits or organic teleologies? Are they like decisive interventions in the normal course of events or are they more like nature gone to seed?

I think that they are more like habits which can be challenged and changed by overt, thoughtful action on the part of human beings, but I also realize that I may be overly influenced by Macmurray to render an unbiased opinion.

Finally, I am intrigued by how this emergent, eschatalogically-oriented ontology handles the particulars of human eschatology, particularly the resurrection of the human body.6 If the resurrection is an emergent event, then humanity takes on a new ontological level. Fair enough. However, hasn’t humanity already birthed an emergent level, the angelic? Is the resurrection then an alternative emergence from the same ontological base or is it an emergent level above and beyond the angelic? How does the eschatological judgment of angels fit into this? Does the exaltation of the resurrected Christ imply a coming ontological superiority of resurrection humanity to the angelic? The biblical data we have is thin at best, and our conclusions here must be held lightly, yet I believe these issues should be raised nonetheless.

Conclusion I hope my very real appreciation for The Spirit of Creation has shone through this review. It is a work of creative synthesis in which I recognize authentic pentecostal theological commitments as well as genuine engagement with areas of ontological investigation which arise when attempting to conceptualize the nature of reality in light of those commitments. The consistency with which he has formulated his proposal and the consistency with which he has teased out the implications of his position are to be admired. And even though Yong does not share my personalist orientation, I recognize he is wrestling with similar questions and concerns. For me The Spirit of Creation has generated both heat and light. I highly recommend it.

6 Here I am primarily concerned with the implications of the resurrection vis-Ă -vis angelic existence; Yong himself recognizes some eschatological difficulties with the resurrection when he mentions the problem of understanding the resurrection of the damned (224,n130).

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Frederick L. Ware, Ph.D. - The Prophetic Voice and Silence of Pentecostalism in the Theology-Science Dialogue: A Response to

Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation

Amos Yong’s The Spirit of Creation: Modern Science and Divine Action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic Imagination is best described as a pneumatological theology of nature (26). Theology of nature, as he defines it, is a reading of the world or nature through the lens of faith (17). According to Yong, a distinctly pentecostal faith perspective on nature is “pneumatological (related to the Holy Spirit) and eschatological (anticipating the future [culmination of God’s creation])” (73, 90). He treats creation not as an event in primordial space-time but rather as a dimension of theism (belief in God) crucial for explaining the existence and contingency of the universe and for proposing that the universe is characterized by purpose and value. Written from a pentecostal perspective, his book interprets divine action (God’s activity) in terms of pentecostal understandings of the Holy Spirit’s action in the world. His thesis is that modern science, and emergentist cosmology in particular, illuminates many important features of and processes in nature and affirms the spiritual realities experienced by Pentecostals (31).

The Story of Pentecostalism and Modern Science Yong provides a truthful account of Pentecostals’ encounters with modern science (2-9). Indeed, the story of pentecostal encounters with modern science has been filled with hostility, indifference, and evasion. However, the story, if it does not change, certainly becomes more intricate with acknowledgment of the complexity of pentecostal identity and varied experiences of Pentecostals when gender, class, race, and ethnicity are factored into their perceptions of science. Pentecostals have “complex identities.” Any one pentecostal believer may live and function in multiple social settings and therefore does not have a singular identity. Still most Pentecostals, and Yong is correct to point this out, compartmentalize their life and thought so as to avoid the tensions and conflicts of engagement and interaction of theology and science (14). The Spirit of Creation demonstrates a positive and constructive way forward for Pentecostals desiring to dialogue with non-Pentecostals about developments in and insights of modern science.

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Unfortunately, Yong’s narrative does not take into consideration those Pentecostals who have pursued most or all of their education in non-pentecostal schools. For example, many African American Pentecostals have had no curriculum for alternative study of science, as have those Pentecostals attending predominately white pentecostal schools (4). African Americans without their own schools but seeking to advance educationally and economically have adopted a variety of postures toward science. African American Pentecostals have long since aligned with the Black Church theologically, socially, and politically. Since the late 19th Century, Black church opinion about modern science has been divided, ranging from uncritical acceptance to vehement rejection.7 In addition to concerns about the methods and philosophy of science, African Americans’ aversion to science has been fueled by the denial and restriction of opportunity for Black people to study and pursue careers in the sciences, the involuntary participation of Black people in scientific experiments, and the distortions and abuses of science against Black people with the spread of pseudo-scientific theories of black inferiority. Having therefore a complex identity, the story of African American pentecostals’ encounters with modern science must be told not only from the vantage point of their location within the pentecostal movement but also from their location within America’s racial caste. And this revision of African American pentecostal history becomes even more complicated when gender and class are considered.

The Prophetic Voice of Pentecostalism Yong’s pneumatological theology of nature has a prophetic quality. He depicts Pentecostalism as counter-modernist, not anti-science, discourse (11, 29). Pentecostalism, as a theology, is a critique of idolatry and false absolutes in science. As expressed within Yong’s pneumatological theology of nature, Pentecostalism is a counter to scientific and positivistic reductionisms and naturalism and materialism (29). He argues that science is limited with respect to its capacity to illuminate pentecostal phenomena (32-33). Pentecostal experiences represent alternative frames of reference for rethinking 7 For an example of varied opinion about modern science in the history of the Black Church, see Jeffrey P. Moran, “Reading Race into the Scopes Trial: African American Elites, Science, and Fundamentalism,” Journal of American History 90, no. 3 (December 2003): 891–911, and idem, “The Scopes Trial and Southern Fundamentalism in Black and White: Race, Region, and Religion,” The Journal of Southern History 70, no. 1 (February 2004): 95–120.

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special divine action (92). Pentecostalism is an alternative perspective of the future containing meanings that cannot be translated into other languages (93, 129, 131). According to Yong, though Pentecostals cannot explain the HOW of the Spirit’s work in the world, they can, in faith, that is, eschatologically and teleologically, say THAT the Spirit’s action makes a difference (98-99).

Pentecostal perspective of divine action (the Spirit’s activity) is teleologically discerned (73, 93, 98-99). As a Christian theologian, his aim is to maintain the autonomy of theology in discussions on teleology (144).

The Idea of a Pentecostal Worldview Yong proposes ten theses for elaboration of the pentecostal worldview, what he calls a “pluralistic cosmology” (208-225). While not necessarily his own position, he claims that if Pentecostals enter the theology-science dialogue, these are the basic premises that define their sensibility. Several of these theses as well as his claim to be doing theology from the depth of pentecostal experience raise questions as to whether there is truly a depth or essence of Pentecostalism (29, 32). It would seem that given the diversity of the pentecostal movement, there is no essence or shared worldview. Even if Pentecostals supposedly share a common language, they hold different opinions about the ontological status of the “objects” commonly referenced in their speech.

Yong argues that the pentecostal worldview, outlined in ten theses, is defensible within the contemporary scientific context (x). However, the theses which may raise the most concern are numbers five, six, eight, nine, and ten (213, 217, 222-24).

Theses five and six raise the question: Do angels and demons exist? Thesis five states that angels are realities that emerge from and supervene upon material and personal relationships through God’s works. Thesis six states that demons are realities that emerge from and supervene upon human alienation, mounting malevolent opposition to the salvific grace of God in human lives.

The question raised by these theses is a bit more challenging than asking whether angels and demons are supervenient. The question deals with determinations about which things empirically are in the inventory of what is.

In George Lakoff and Mark Johnson’s study of metaphor, they demonstrate clearly that not all “objects” in speech are strictly physical.8 Through the use 8 George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (University of Chicago Press, 2003),

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of metaphor, we liken aspects of our experience to objects and substances in order to raise awareness of these aspects of experience and to quantify, group or categorize, and causally relate them. The fact that pentecostal language is figurative and metaphorical and that there is frequent use of ontological metaphors in all languages invites speculation about the ontological status of angels and demons. Is pentecostal talk about angels and demons primarily semantic (assertions about meaning and value) or ontic (assertions about actual entities existing in the world)?

Thesis eight states that the work of the church is to name, resist, and exorcize the demonic. Some persons might want to give more specificity to the work of the church, claiming that the principal work of the church is evangelism or social reform. Too often talk about spirits, mostly demonology, distracts attention and effort from constructive action towards addressing the needs of persons and communities. Seldom, almost never, does demonology lead to social analysis and strategic planning for remedy of societal and personal problems.9 Thesis nine states that resurrection is of persons and communities. In philosophical debate, the question is raised: Is bodily resurrection logically and physically possible?

Thesis ten states that certain persons will be eternally lost. Some Christians would raise concerns about the implied cruelty of a God who punishes forever or totally annihilates persons. Would not the idea of conditionalism or conditional immortality, as proposed by Philip Hughes, be more moral and theologically correct with respect to defense of belief that God is maximally great and morally perfect?10

26-27.

9 For more on my critique of the capacity of demonology for social reform or liberation, see Frederick L. Ware, “On the Compatibility/Incompatibility of Pentecostal Premillennialism with Black Liberation Theology,� in Afropentecostalism: Black Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity in History and Culture, ed. Amos Yong and Estrelda Alexander (New York University Press, 2011), 198-201.

10 The concept of conditionalism or, as it is sometimes called, conditional immortality is articulated in Philip E. Hughes’ The True Image: The Origin and Destiny of Man in Christ (William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989), 404-07.

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The postulation of a pluralistic cosmology further raises the question: Is cosmology essential or necessary for Christian faith? Yong’s aim is to remythologize, that is, preserve New Testament cosmology and ground Pentecostalism in the same. His pluralistic cosmology obscures the fundamental meaning of the Christian gospel. Following the work of Rudolf Bultmann, it would seem that Christian theologians should be working to not only demythologize the biblical text but also distinguish Christian faith from cosmology. It is not in our beliefs about physical reality (cosmology) that we encounter Jesus Christ; it is in the kerygma that we encounter Jesus Christ and attain insight into and experience of the authentic existence that Jesus Christ offers.

Theological Dualism, Natural Law, and Methodological Naturalism Theological Dualism As argued by Philip Clayton, theological dualism is necessary for maintenance of the distinction between theology and science and for each’s autonomy. Theological dualism establishes a radical difference between God and the world, underscoring teleology as a discourse that cannot be constructed using the methods of science, and defending teleology as an area for engagement between theology and science. In Clayton’s conception of theological dualism, cosmology is not the domain of theology but rather the domain of science.

Yong modifies Clayton’s theory of emergence in order to create space for human minds in his “pluralistic cosmology” (208-25). Yong favors Clayton’s philosophy of emergence but chooses to support emergentist anthropology with minimal assertions drawn from analogies instead of the supposition of Clayton’s theological dualism (63, 64, 145-51, 162-63, 169-72). Yong’s move raises questions about the meaning and place of the soul in this emergentist framework. In Christian tradition, the soul is not synonymous with the mind. It would seem that the concept of soul is intelligible theologically as God’s act of grace rather than by some postulation of divine intervention (involvement) in the natural process. With supposition of theological dualism, there is no pressure to equate soul with mind and to locate it as a reality in the processes of nature.

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Science and Law-Governed Universe Yong favors a philosophical and theological assessment instead of a scientific explanation that makes room for the interjection of teleology (128). Yong favors Charles Peirce’s conception of natural law as rhythm (habits or tendencies) arising from chance, irregularity, and indeterminacy (120, 121, 122, 124). It is true that reliance on science may lead to a “God of the gaps” theology. Still we must not overlook the opportunities where they do appear in order to take advantage of recent scientific theory that does make “room” for God to act in a law-governed (a thorough naturalistic explanation of the) world.

In the theology-science dialogue, it is crucial to maintain (even insist) that science functions as science providing, through its methods and as much as possible, naturalistic explanation of the world. Important advancements in science provide insight into the physical world. Cosmic and biological evolution adequately explains nature. For example, Daryl Domning and Robert Ulanowicz demonstrate that life is an emergent property of distinct processes of matter and energy.11 Doming and Ulanowicz demonstrate through the methods of science that the belief that contingencies are either chance or necessity is a false absolute of science. They point out that mutualism (which involves autocatalysis and centripetality) is the fundamental process of nature; it guides and constrains nature but does not determine its outcomes.

Mutualism leaves open the possibility of divine action. This insight of science enables theologians to provide interpretations of a teleological nature in cosmology and the philosophy of science.

Methodological Naturalism While some thinkers have resorted to naturalism for support of materialism and atheism, naturalism may be adopted methodologically as a way of challenging and correcting religious truth-claims in the broader context of human existence and experience in the world. Naturalism is not anti-religion or antiGod (atheism), but an intellectual discipline needed for curtailing multipli11 Robert E. Ulanowicz, “Mutualism in the Darwinian Scenario,” and Daryl P. Domning, “Chance, Darwin Natural Selection, and Why Theology Can’t Do Without Them,” public lectures on The Origin of Life and Its Development, Washington Theological Union, Washington, DC. For a detailed elaboration of Ulanowicz’s theory, see his A Third Window: Natural Life beyond Newton and Darwin (West Conshohocken, Penn.: Templeton Press, 2009).

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cation of entities and the excesses of Pentecostals’ biblical literalism. Yong conceives a pentecostal worldview which is a Spirit-filled cosmos inclusive of human minds and angels and demons (173-83). While he acknowledges that Pentecostals’ language is metaphorical, he does not address the distinctions that Pentecostals themselves make between the literal and figurative in their language. Not only from science but also from historical-critical biblical study and pentecostal self-critique (denunciation of snake handlers), there is much doubt about the ontological status of angels and demons. Even Pentecostals would object and consider offensive the association of their spiritual experience with the paranormal (184-98). I wonder: Could Yong’s pneumatological theology of nature be amenable to (and possibly even be improved by) the adoption of theological dualism and methodological naturalism?

The Silence of Pentecostalism In The Spirit of Creation, Yong not only emphasizes tongue-speaking as a unique phenomenon in Pentecostal-Charismatic religious experiences but also as metaphor for multiple languages that glorify God and illuminate human understanding (29). According to Yong, theology and science are complementary tongues/languages (27). Yong admits, however, that there are meanings in some languages that cannot be translated into other languages (27, 29, 93, 129, 131). To repeat, Yong says that Pentecostals cannot explain the HOW of the Spirit’s work in the world but they can, in faith, that is, eschatologically and teleologically, say THAT the Spirit’s action makes a difference (98-99). This inability to explain the HOW implies a silence on the part of Pentecostalism.

Though Pentecostalism makes a difference through its prophetic voice, it is, at times, marked by silence. At some point, tongues and prophecy will cease.

“Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end” (1 Cor. 13: 8). All that will remain is love— love for God and our world and what God had placed in it. This love is the greatest virtue among our other virtues of faith and hope. Yong correctly points out that, in the dialogue, the stakes are the same for both Pentecostals and non-Pentecostals (227-28). The great challenged faced by humanity is the task of developing a moral sensibility

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that responds adequately to the advancements and hazards of our science and technology.

Douglas Olena - Some Remarks on Amos Yong’s Spirit of Creation It does seem odd . . . that just when physics is . . . moving away from mechanism, biology and psychology are moving closer to it. If the trend continues . . . scientists will be regarding living and intelligent beings as mechanical, while they suppose that inanimate matter is too complex and too subtle to fit into the limited categories of mechanism.12 I will focus on emergence theory for this review. Schematically, emergence theory seeks an explanation for two major problems: the emergence of life from non-living matter, and the emergence of mind from living matter. Despite the difficulties of unambiguously defining life and mind, I will treat their existence as self-evident. The puzzle set before us is how to explain their appearance in the universe. The puzzle for naturalism is to define the mechanisms of their appearance. The puzzle Amos Yong attempts to solve, or at least set up a context to discuss, is how God the Holy Spirit interacts with the universe, specifically people, emergent beings who are the product of the Holy Spirit’s interaction with the physical universe. The reason I suggest Yong’s puzzle refers to context is that he begins the discussion with people in the universe, a long way down the timeline of beings. His reference to geologic history and emergence is a way of drawing out the conversation from what exists to the cause of what exists.

Yong, as a theologian, takes his empirical evidence from the naturalist, without imputing miraculous instantiation of life and mind, and seeks to find the locus of interaction between God and the created universe. This is not a trivial problem, first of all, because the grinding wheels of science still press on to better explanations. Second, understanding the mechanism of emergence may be one of the deepest problems facing human science. Its resolution may require the advancement of every associated discipline and the complicity of metaphysical rules of thumb, transitionary theses that hold the threads of this problem under appropriate tension waiting for empirical resolution fine 12 David Bohm “Some Remarks on the Notion of Order and Further remarks on Order,” in Towards a Theoretical Biology, 2nd ed., ed. C, H. Waddington, 18-40 (Chicago: Aldine, 1970), 34.

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enough to resolve the difficulties. The difficulties lie at the lower levels of organization. One locus of interaction with higher levels of emergent reality exists at the level of mind, and embodiment. Conscious sensibility of the presence of the Holy Spirit, for the theologian, is a compelling clue to the work of the Holy Spirit at lower levels. As well the Bible attests to the activity of the Spirit at the level of physical organization as Yong notes.

It is not my intention to draw lines between life and non-life, or mind and non-mind. Without life and mind neither reasoning nor these comments would exist. I am also uninterested in the squabbles between eliminativists and vitalists. In the form of knowledge suggested by G. E. Moore, I can declare with some confidence that I know there is life and mind because they are present in front of me. The additional puzzle surfaces when the standard account of cosmic history is taken into account. It can be stated in this conditional form: If the universe started at some time in the past, then everything in the universe had its beginning at that point,13 even though the emergence of patterns, life, and mind follow later. The key point is that we have good evidence that the present universe was formed around 13.2 billion years in the past. Patterns like galaxies and galaxy clusters emerge from the primordial quantum soup some time after that, then, matter is generated in the process of stellar evolution until two, three, or more cycles later there is enough matter and variety of matter along with stellar stability to permit the formation of planetary systems, and eventually life, then mind.

On one hand, the difficulty lies in the realm of physical causation. Some expect that every pattern in the universe can be explained in terms of causes that can be traced to axiomatic physical rules lower down the chain of causality while others like the defenders of Intelligent Design suggest that complex systems like life cannot be reduced to elemental causes: an argument for theistic intervention. Emergence theory agrees that there are irreducibly complex systems, but that they arise at the borders of the thermodynamic limit creating asymmetrical constraints that perpetuate self-replicating and self-sustaining patterned elements. The laws of nature are statistical regularities that can only be roughly defined at the limits of our perception. Terrence Deacon demonstrates this when he discusses the second law of thermodynamics.14 It is high13 That is the account both of the Bible, and modern cosmic history.

14 Terrence Deacon, Incomplete Nature: How Mind Emerged From Matter (New York: W. W.

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ly likely that the largest percentage of all physical interactions tend toward entropy. However, a small fraction of a percent of interactions in the universe tend toward order. That is the space where Maxwell’s demon resides, where some structures are able to move up the thermodynamic incline creating an asymmetrical distribution of energy.15 This is where life itself resides against thermodynamic entropy, and where deterministic causality fails. Life holds back entropy for a while and restructures its own components and environment in a downward causality. Life and mind transform their own internal and external landscape.

Yong wishes to argue in this fashion, while defining the interaction between God and the universe, specifically the operation of the Holy Spirit in the formation of the constituent parts of the universe including energy, matter, life, mind, spiritualities, and powers.

The ground of Yong’s suggestion is that God’s activity at the highest known emergent levels is cognizable in those levels. In other words, God interacts with people through bodies and minds. The eliminativist has problems with this, because of constraints of bottom up descriptions of causality. Life to the eliminativist is purely mechanical, and mind only an epiphenomena of physical brain activity. Adopting an eliminative stance comes at the cost of human experience. My suspicion is that we haven’t figured out the relationship between mind and body (neither themselves discreet dualistic elements in human being), and that we have a long way to go before we do.

One problem that a theory of emergence tries to address is the causality problem. Without relegating God to the form deism suggests as a mere origin, and without expanding his interaction with the universe to the miraculous creation of every being, emergence theory from the scientific side wishes to retain the breadth of human experience, the intentional reality of biology and mind, while emergence theory from the theistic side wishes to discover the active engagement of God with the universe without also suggesting an engagement with the universe outside the laws of nature. As to the status of causal laws, it is generally considered at the moment that the laws of nature are not fixed Norton & Company, 2012), passim.

15 This is also where those who insist that God intervenes in every non-thermodynamic event go wrong, assuming that the second law of thermodynamics is absolute.

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deterministically, but again are statistical regularities that can be only roughly defined. Therefore the eliminativist is left without an axiomatic foundation for causal interactions. It is no wonder that every bottom up attempt to explain life and mind fails. Its rules are insufficiently subtle.

Yong’s thesis with respect to emergence is that the Spirit of God is present and active at all stages of creation and organization, including participation in the emergence of life and mind. I think this position comes out of the Scripture itself. However, Yong does not reject material mechanism. He allows that the scientific approach will yield fruitful answers given enough time. In other words, he sees no apparent conflict between the material causes of emergence and the design and interaction of the Spirit of God. There is an apparent conflict between the two only if God’s interaction with the universe is miraculous, that is, if the interaction between God and the universe is contrary to the discoverable probablistically describable regularities of the physical universe. Yong’s position can be described as rejecting Stephen Jay Gould’s non-overlapping magisteria16 when it comes to the Spirit interacting with the material world. As to the mechanism, I believe Yong will wait for science to do its due diligence in discovering the emergent properties of matter, life, and mind. So, his position is a theological article of faith. That is not to say he is incorrect, because it is a plausible structure for an argument with a non-reductive material, God created and formed universe.

History and Difficulties: The history of emergence theory has ancient roots, and even when an author proposes a form of emergence without consulting their predecessors, there are similarities between narratives. The narratives take four forms: spontaneous generation, divine causality, vitalism, and material mechanism. It may be of some use to explain why these narratives seem necessary. What drives a tension into the discussion about causes is that biological and rational beings have goals toward which they move. This teleological component in living matter brings up the problem about how those goals are set, where they come from, and where, ultimately, they are leading. This is not a trivial problem, but one of the keys to understanding the difficulties in the science/theology 16 Stephen Jay Gould, Rock of Ages: Science and Religion in the Fullness of Life (New York: Ballantine Books, 1999).

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discussion.

As Terrence Deacon describes in Incomplete Nature, the scientific enterprise since the eighteenth century has been attempting to banish any teleological concept from the practice of science. Any trace of teleology in a scientific explanation immediately makes it suspect. Deacon, wishing to ferret out every possible trace of homunculi guiding material systems, is successful in taking material science to task for smuggling in many back-door versions of teleological theory implicit in their explanations. This purification ritual has two purposes. The first purpose is to note the persistence of teleological language in material science, illegitimate only if there are claims about avoiding teleology as a causal mechanism. The second is an effort to clear the ground in order to discover the material causes for self-directing and goal-directed biological and mental characteristics.

Deacon gives us good guidance to discover clues to the first question above, that is, what drives the tension into the discussion about causes. The tension resides in the implicit requirement that a discussion about causes should not adopt a teleological explanation. However, biological life and mental events have characteristics that seem, on careful examination, teleological in nature.

So, the scientist is caught in a bind.17 But though Deacon wishes to exorcise the homunculi, he wishes to make room for what he calls absential features,18 those qualities whose absence in non-teleological explanations describe, for example, intuition, foresight, and expectation in human reasoning19 that are distinctly teleological in nature. Does Deacon smuggle in another ghost in the machine? No, his aim is to provide a material explanation for the emergence 17 Richard Dawkins, Ancestor’s Tale (New York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 2004). Dawkins offers good reasons for the use of language like “evolution does this, or that,” by saying that it is only a common way of speaking that the scientist knows well enough translates into a fairly complex non-teleological explanation, an inefficient use of words. Teleological language is in that case only a shortcut.

18 Deacon, 1-17, passim. The concept of absential features is easily explained by appeal to common forms of justifications for beliefs about human action. When someone fails to return a phone call, an absence of response, that tells us that this person either didn’t get the message, can’t get to the phone, is too busy, or is avoiding us. Our previous relation with that individual will further refine our expectation of a response of some sort. But it is the absence of a response that carries information.

19 C. E. M. Joad, “The Mind as Distinct From the Body” (1947). I don’t use this illustration to bolster the dualism Joad professes, but rather, these features are inexplicable in materialist terms because they do not appear connected to some bottom up version of materialist causality.

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of self-organizing structures, then life, then mind. He calls them absential because though they are realities, they cannot be causally linked with any success to lower-order material causes. They are emergent, complex elements irreducible to prior causes.

Deacon admits that his illustrations are halting and incomplete. That’s fine.

He successfully sustains his argument with fair examples, without also appealing to ghosts. He also carefully retains the absential features that provide a thicker explanation of human being. How does this relate to The Spirit of Creation?

Yong examines emergence theory from a theological perspective. In chapter five, titled “Ruach Over the Primordial Waters: A Pneumatological Theology of Emergence,” his explicit intention is to see how one could take “a pentecostally informed eschatological and teleological framework” (133-34) to offer an account of the natural history of the universe without also engaging in the debate centering around a conservative reading of the Genesis account. In other words, Yong is not engaging any of the numerous literalist accounts of universal history. He assumes, rather, a generalized version of the history of the universe adopted by the scientific community. His entire account in The Spirit of Creation would have no bearing if he countenanced the possibility of a Narnia-like creation story (see Table 1, 136). Rather, Yong bypasses that debate entirely because of the fruitlessness and anachronism of its assumptions. If the answer to how the universe, the earth, life, and mind came to be is that God did it, then there is nothing to discuss or discover. In addition, if a literalist account is correct, then there are specific logical problems that are unresolvable within the text of the Bible without the addition of ad hoc theological insertions.

With respect to fellow believers who hold to one of the variety of catastrophist views, the plausibility of their assumptions about a young earth (or at least younger than that posited by the scientific community) are not data driven, or scientific from even a generous non-eliminative perspective. The primary target of their investigations is often the fringes of normal science where there is no consensus and the data is problematic; for example, the narrative of the Piltdown Man scandal becomes a “refutation” of paleoanthropology.20 20 Charles Blinderman, The Piltdown Inquest (Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books, 1986).

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Let’s take an example of literalist interpretation and show why it is problematic. I am not here discussing sophisticated and scientifically driven attempts to understand scripture like those of the astronomer Hugh Ross,21 and theologian Amos Yong, but rather the Creation Science community that is not really doing science at all. The literal interpretation of scripture is actually a modern project arising out of an Enlightenment commitment to reason with the adjunct that the Bible is infallible. If the Bible is infallible then the logic arising out of it is also infallible. The Bible becomes more than just the word of God concerning redemption, but a reliable science textbook. With these presuppositions in place, a certain logic appears. The antithesis of these presuppositions, that the infallibility of the Bible has little to contribute to empirical science, was a challenge that led many believers in the nineteenth century to adopt, though not uncritically, views of the emerging scientific community.

The story of an ancient earth arising out of fossil and geologic evidence in the eighteenth and nineteenth century West took the Christian community past an uncritical belief in a young earth, a belief supported by a literalist reading of the first few chapters of Genesis and some passages in Psalms. But still, some, citing Bishop Ussher’s 1650 treatise Annals of the World,22 retained a conviction that the earth was very young. Ussher’s treatise attempted to discover the date of creation by counting the generations and dates within the text of the Bible as if the Bible were recounting a strictly modern history of events, clearly an anachronistic method. But today, any serious theory of biblical dating asserts a modest uncertainty about dates, because the writers themselves did not treat dating like the moderns do. In addition, the burgeoning geological data produced by honest people in the last 200 years make it highly improbable that a dating scheme forcefully extracted from an ancient text is a legitimate pathway to knowledge.23 When cracks appear within the biblical chronology, attempts are made to shore up the text by inserting explanations. Most of the educated public thinks the earth and the universe are extremely old, so the literalists have variously added a time gap between the first and second verses of Genesis 21 Hugh Ross, A Matter of Days: Resolving a Creation Controversy (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2004).

22 James Ussher, Annals of the World (Green Forest, AR: Master Books, 2007).

23 Modern versions of this are found in the attempts to find the date of Christ’s return by appeal to biblical dating schemes, even when Christ himself said that no man knew, and suggested that the time of his return could not be known by any but the Father.

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1, or suggested that the days of creation are extremely long ages. But this doesn’t solve the logical problems in the differences between Genesis 1:1 to ~2:4 and ~2:4-25. Those problems are often reductively harmonized in order to tell a coherent story.

But, there is no way to make the Biblical account of creation literally coherent. That project is an anachronism. The problems emerging from that account as a technical and logical exercise lead to a theoretical cul de sac. The matrix of biblical interpretation is far deeper than the literalist can plumb.

If, however, the answer is to be found in the clues of history and traces of life, then a scientific examination should prove fruitful. It is not only for this discussion that science should be left to run its course, but rather, the fruitfulness of science often means the abandonment of false ideas, and the possibility of the emergence, in time, of probably true ones. To wish for more than merely probably true beliefs is to require a problematic reductionism.

Yong has set himself a difficult task, partly because scientific emergence theory and pentecostal theology are as yet in their infant stages. The youth of a scientific emergence theory has had to wait for contemporary discoveries in science, a recognition that evolution is a purely negative proposition. It is a culling and not a productive mechanism. Theology has had to wait for a serious engagement with the scientific enterprise, a return from the arrogance of certainty to an inquisitive childlike attitude that is also a preliminary attitude for kingdom entrance.

Emergence and Supervenience At the level of biology and mind, with all their attendant complexity, there is evidence of downward causation. In other words, biology has an effect on structures lower down the chain of organization, and mind has an effect on biology and material structures.

With Philip Clayton, Yong adopts a view capable of acknowledging upward causality of a law-like sort while at the same time acknowledging the fact of downward causality from emergent entities (144-51). “Strong supervenience finally allows only for ‘upward causation’ wherein brain states affect mind states, whereas weak supervenience accounts for ‘downward causation’ as

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well� (148). The problem for strong supervenience is that it fails to account for the effects of biological or human action on the world, supposing that they can be explained ultimately by the rules of physics. For example, since the beginning of civilization we have abundant evidence that humans have been adjusting their own evolutionary trajectory. If physical rules can explain human action in terms of causality from the bottom up, then we are no closer to that explanation than we have ever been in the past. My suspicion is that this explanation will be unfruitful both for explanation and prediction. Strong supervenience will bring us no closer to an explanation of emergent behavior.

How have humans been adjusting their evolutionary trajectory? Simply by making choices about what we value places a formal structure on future emergence. The Spartans, by leaving defective children in the wilderness ensured, in brutal fashion, the robustness of the species. The modern West, by maintaining the lives of those afflicted with deadly childhood diseases increases the proliferation of genetic disorders when the defective genome gets passed down. But because the West values the mind, spirituality, and life over quality of life, it perpetuates defective genomes. The robustness of the race is being set aside as a value hoping that the brilliance and value preserved in the race will grant an appropriate technological or spiritual fix. If it does not, then the race risks setting itself up for an early demise when in a moment of weakness an evolutionary mechanism culls the defectives.

It is easy to see why an eschatology of a certain kind would play a part in a teleology that typifies the extension of foresight and expectation. It provides the justification for choices of behavior that would not be obvious without it.

It sets up an expectation of progress even with the experience of failure. It gives courage to live when ordinary life is chaotic and problematic. It enforces a conservative stricture on behavior, and a reason for reaching out to save fellow humans. An eschatology provides hope when things seem otherwise hopeless. It gives reasons to live and reasons to die, even in the case where the eschatology is populated by Nietzsche’s Ăœbermensch, the replacement of humanity with something beyond itself. As humans we become a mere bridge to the future, an evolutionary road instead of an endpoint, part of a process instead of the end of all things. Living eschatologically, the self, its interests, and civilization become defocussed.

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In Christianity, the world awaits the emergence of the sons of God as an answer to the pain creation now experiences. This is a culmination of God’s plan, and a driving force in the expectation of the end of times. The imagination of a scientific worldview awaits the phase shift of a singularity of knowledge apprehension, and the emergence of humans from their nursery in a pre-technological era, toward an intelligent universe. Both worldviews hope for the emergence of homo-transcendicus, the next phase in human being.

The visions differ in many aspects, but the apocalyptic and eschatological expectation is active as a context for worldviews of many sympathetic sorts.

Emergence theory then is not merely an explanatory algorithm, but a context for life and research and the promotion of human and humane values. In Yong’s work it is the means whereby the Holy Spirit in cooperation with the universe brings forth life and mind, but not without purpose and an endgame.

The dark side to emergence, the possible cancers of human being remain possible, and have been vigorously explored in art, literature, and media, and have been played out in politics. Utopian, political, economic, and spiritual ideals fail in light of the singularity of the eschaton. We all hope, however, that our choices do not leave us below the threshold of survival. The Christian and spiritual hope is that by cooperating with the Spirit that keeps humanity on God’s way, the darker possibilities may be avoided. The secular enterprise hopes that by searching for truth in a moral context, the worst depredations of the darker possibilities will be forestalled. But as recorded history tells us, humanity’s journey has often found itself traveling down numerous blind alleys and cul de sacs. The chance for failure remains.

Conclusion The Spirit of Creation as part of the Pentecostal Manifestos collection starts a conversation with the breadth of scope hardly imaginable in a previous age.

Amos Yong manages to keep up with many streams of thought, is conscious of the turns of historical narrative, the sociology, philosophy, and practice of science, and contemporary movements in the theological landscape. The ambition of Yong’s project is partnered with a deep humility and humanity that manages to gather the clues and signals of the modern voice into a manageable volume. This book starts a conversation whose echoes will be heard in many fields of endeavor. Yong make allies out of seeming enemies in the

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search for truth, for life, and for a more generous humanity.

Amos Yong - Response: Science and the (Super) Natural: Can Pentecostals Mediate any Conversation?

Chris Vena, Jack Wisemore, Fred Ware and Doug Olena have responded with critical questions but set these within what any constructive theologian would aspire to receive from his or her readers and peers: proposals to think with and beyond what is being attempted in the volume under discussion.24 I am all the more grateful that they have done so in this case because as a book published in the Pentecostal Manifestos series (of which I am co-editor), it is really designed and intended to engage non-pentecostal conversation partners, in particular, in this case, those working at the theology-and-science interface. I am thus all the more appreciative that they have recognized this wider context and responded to my invitation, indirectly registered in the book, to other pentecostal and charismatic scholars to engage with the issues at this frontier. I will organize my response triadically to take up the methodological, material, and pragmatic questions and concerns that have been registered.

Methodologically, the most pointed questions come from Chris and Fred. The former wonders –and here I am collapsing what he distinguishes as paradigmatic versus methodological critiques of my book – to what extent the proposal sketched in The Spirit of Creation is distinctively Pentecostal or Charismatic (PC), whether it may be presented more adequately as a trinitarian rather than specifically pneumatological contribution, and to what degree there is a privileging of theology over other academic disciplines, among other questions. The latter is more attuned to the cultural and racial dynamics of the history, not to mention contemporary context, of the global renewal movement, and how pentecostal engagements with the theology-and-science conversation may, or perhaps ought to, be impacted by these matters. I am especially sensitive to these concerns of Fred and have sought, in previous work, to encourage other PC scholars to engage these matters without being 24 The Spirit of Creation: Modern Science and Divine Action in the Pentecostal-Charismatic Imagination, Pentecostal Manifestos 4 (Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011).

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fully constrained by the western and Eurocentric frame of reference.25 Yet I admit that in this book, I have not foregrounded the multiracial and multiethnic character of the global renewal movement as I have in other of my books on pentecostal theology, in part because there is, to my knowledge, relatively little work that has been done specifically at this interface. To be sure, this is in part Fred’s point: that non-white PCs have been marginalized from opportunities to engage in such endeavors. We need to find ways to correct this, and I will return at the end of this rejoinder to pick up on this matter.

Chris’s queries actually map well onto the trajectory of my work which has from the beginning sought to blur boundaries but yet do so precisely through accentuating possible pentecostal perspectives on and responses to wider theological discussions. What I mean is that as a non- or post-foundationalist, I have never provided any more than a phenomenological definition of PC Christianity and so have never relied on an essentialist view of what it means.

Hence, my concerns have never been to be distinctively PC, although I have always acknowledged that my work – whether on political theology, theology of religions, disability theology, and now on theology-and-science – is certainly informed by such experiences and perspectives. This applies also to my work in pneumatological theology. Those familiar with it will recall that I have never presented the “pneumatological imagination” as “owned” by PC Christianity and always suggested that this was merely one PC contribution to what was and remains at the root of the Christian tradition but which has been, as widely recognized, neglected, ignored, or even dismissed variously throughout its history.26 More to the point, my “many tongues” thesis – which I have applied in my work across theological loci – actually would 25 E.g., J. Kwabena Asamoah-Gyadu, “‘God’s Laws of Productivity’: Creation in African Pentecostal Hermeneutics,” in Amos Yong, ed., The Spirit Renews the Face of the Earth: Pentecostal Forays in Science and Theology of Creation (Eugene, Ore.: Pickwick Publications, 2009), 175-90, and the work of Ware himself, “Can Religious Experience Be Reduced to Brain Activity? The Place and Significance of Pentecostal Narrative,” in James K. A. Smith and Amos Yong, eds., Science and the Spirit: A Pentecostal Engagement with the Sciences (Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 2010), 117-32.

26 Thus methodologically programmatic for all my work is my second book, Spirit-WordCommunity: Theological Hermeneutics in Trinitarian Perspective, New Critical Thinking in Religion, Theology and Biblical Studies Series (Burlington, Vt., and Aldershot, UK: Ashgate Publishing Ltd., 2002; reprint: Eugene, Ore.: Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2006), which is not even presented as a work on pentecostal hermeneutics. See also the insightful discussion of this book by L. William Oliverio, Jr., “An Interpretive Review Essay on Amos Yong’s Spirit-WordCommunity: Theological Hermeneutics in Trinitarian Perspective,” Journal of Pentecostal Theology 18:2 (October 2009): 301-11.

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insist that there is no one pneumatological imagination. Thus while I would admit that theology is privileged over other disciplines in The Spirit of Creation, this privileging provides an overarching framework that both enables the voices of the many disciplines to be heard on their terms (something that PCs have long clamored for) and also, in that process, requires that theology itself be instructed, perhaps corrected, by the “testimonies” of these other tongues. There is a sense, then, in which the privileging of theology results in its subordination – which ought not to be surprising if it is the work of the Spirit to testify to that of the Son, and if the creative work of the Son, the Logos through whom all things have been made and through whom all things remained sustained, is discovered in part through the many scientific disciplines.27

One last methodological point, here in response to what I feel are the pressures I fell from Doug and Fred to my “left” and from Jack and Chris to my “right.” What I mean is that those on my “left” seem to be quite comfortable with what might be called the methodological naturalism of the sciences, with Doug seeming to want me to explore even further the emergentist trajectories opened up in my book and Fred advocating a more robust programme of demythologization. On the other side, Jack’s personalism and Chris’s evangelical commitments press me to clarify if and how my proposals are consistent with more classical and traditionalist categories of thinking about these matters. I am un-enthused about demythologization, although I am just as concerned as Fred is, if I understand his worries, that Pentecostals and Charismatics all too often spiritualize their world in ways that are counter-productive to engaging it in responsible ways.28 On the other hand, when engaging with the sciences, I see little good reason to contest its methodo27 As I argued long ago in my “Academic Glossolalia? Pentecostal Scholarship, Multidisciplinarity, and the Science-Religion Conversation,” Journal of Pentecostal Theology 14:1 (2005): 61-80. As to Chris’ question about whether my use of the tongues image to legitimate the many scientific disciplines should be taken in a strong or weak sense, my response is that this is a theological argument that hence relies in part on the analogy of being: the Spirit’s inspiring the many tongues on the Day of Pentecost in that sense anticipates the many disciplines of the sciences.

28 See, e.g., my article with Samuel Zalanga, “What Empire? Which Multitude? Pentecostalism and Social Liberation in North America and Sub-Saharan Africa,” in Bruce Ellis Benson and Peter Goodwin Heltzel, eds., Evangelicals and Empire: Christian Alternatives to the Political Status Quo (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2008), 237-51, where we confront what might be called an overly mythological cosmology that debilitates against, rather than empowers, Spirit-filled engagements with the world.

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logical naturalism, even as simultaneously, of course, I inhabit and attempt to make sense of the entirety of this world, including the world of science, in robust theological terms.29 In short, I am seeking to find a way that embraces modern science on the one hand but yet is also resolutely pentecostal and charismatic in spirituality and orientation to that scientific world on the other hand. I hope my Pentecostal and Charismatic colleagues also see that this is the way forward for the global renewal movement moving into the middle of the twenty-first century.

Materially, I want to address four domains of questions concerning the content of my proposals at this theology-and-science interface: that pertaining to my metaphysical hypotheses, that relating to my theological anthropology, that concerning my constructive theology of divine action, and that attending my speculative cosmology (of angels and demons).

One of the perennial concerns about doing theology in dialogue with or in light of the sciences is the changing nature of science. True, that is a challenge, but it is not more or less a challenge when we consider that theology itself, as second order discourse, is also dynamic rather than static. So yes, emergence and supervenience, as metaphysical constructs, may not be in vogue tomorrow. One response would be to be silent about such matters, but this is irresponsible, actually, since it does not provide the community of faith any confidence that it has anything to say in the public square, much less that people of faith belong in that domain (in scientific work, for instance). This is also a practical matter since we otherwise would be sending our children off to study science in our universities without having made any serious efforts to think through the theological ramifications of what they (and we) are learning from other fields of knowledge. So certainly to take science seriously in theological work is risky. It is surely not for the faint of heart. My only advice is this: constructive theologians need to do their homework, and then venture a provisional articulation of how to understand things given the current state of knowledge. It is dogmatic claims in the face of uncertainty that exacerbate 29 For more on how this methodological naturalism is not inimical to theological commitments, see my “Observation, Participation, Explanation: Methodological Options in the Study of Religion,” lecture, University of California, San Diego, California, 1 May 2012, now under review with Religious Studies and Theology; cf. my “Conclusion,” in Matthew T. Lee and Amos Yong, eds., The Science and Theology of Godly Love (DeKalb, Ill.: Northern Illinois University Press, 2012), 217-32.

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our anxieties. Fallibilist proposals, however, are appropriate, especially in the dialogue with science, for which all hypotheses, rigorously constructed, are testable (to be discerned by the relevant communities of expertise, to put it in other terms) – those having greater explanatory power persisting and others falling by the wayside.30 The Spirit of Creation represents such an endeavor.

I hope others will build on, even correct, it. It is an initial effort, not any last word.

But what about my adoption of emergence as a metaphysical hypothesis? Is this warranted by the evidence? Of course, any large scale hypothesis – and emergence would certainly fit – will have its critics. Doug Olena seems to think this appropriate at least at this stage of the dialogue between theology and science. Others like Chris are more hesitant.31 I would say that although our postmodern critics might also insist that we inhabit a post-metaphysical world, human beings as thinking and speculating creatures will always presume some sort of metaphysics – even if a positivistic, reductionistic, materialistic, and naturalistic one prevalent within scientistic circles. The question is not whether metaphysics, but what kind.32 The same applies to thinking about the nature of the world (what we call cosmology) and the ways things are (what we also call ontology) – and I say this despite what seems to me to be Fred Ware’s reservations about whether such belong in the pentecostal theological task.

Yet I would claim that even to take a narrative or literary approach to theology, for instance – which is not to say that this is what Fred is advocating – is to presume some kind of constructivist approach to these matters of perennial philosophical concern. Thus even Fred, for all the intimations in his response about going in the direction of a metaphorical theology, cannot refrain at the 30 I have always adopted a fallibilist stance toward theological reflection considered as second order discourse derived from lived realities; see my Spirit-Word-Community, chs. 5-6.

31 Chris, however, realizes that we need some kind of philosophical-theological account or other, although he also thinks what I have provided remains still too thin. He also wonders about whether or not mine would qualify as a kind of panentheism (it would, with additional qualification) or the degree to which I presume a participatory ontology or am open to a more trinitarian formulation (yes to both). Chris’s questions bring home to me how much the argument in this volume is intertwined with other books I have written, so I apologize to those who are encountering my work for the first time in The Spirit of Creation.

32 I learned this from my doctorvater, Robert Cummings Neville, a systematic philosopher par excellence, and to whom I dedicated Spirit-Word-Community.

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end from asking about the ontological status of my pluralistic cosmology (especially of angels and demons). While I will return to engage with this question momentarily, his return to this issue confirms my point: that no systematic theological articulation can avoid taking some kind of stance about how its core assertions hold up against our knowledge gained from other fields of inquiry (in this case, science), especially if it presumes to make any claims about the nature of God and of God’s relationship to the world we inhabit. To be sure, not being able to avoid taking a position does not mean that it is easy to delineate just what the nature of that position is, particularly with regard to the metaphysical, ontological, and cosmological aspects of our theological ideas. None of these are for the faint of heart. My intuition, however, is that any efforts to take on the big questions of life will require bold metaphysical hypotheses, matched by equally ambitious speculative endeavors regarding cosmological and ontological matters. There is no reason why pentecostal and charismatic scholars should not be primed to take steps toward making contributions to these matters. The Spirit of Creation represents one such leap. May my mistakes chart for others the way not to go as they construct better hypotheses at this interdisciplinary juncture.

But note simultaneously that my appropriation of emergence operates at a high level of generality. More than one of my interlocutors wants me to specify what kind of emergence I have in mind, particularly with regard to my theological anthropology. As a metaphysical construct, however, I think that if there are no good reasons to opt for more specificity in our theological and theoretical work, then don’t get committed. To insist on either emergent dualism (William Hasker) versus nonreductive physicalism (Nancey Murphy) or even a third alternative – like an emergent-constitutional materialism (Kevin Corcoran), for instance – opens one up to further levels of empirical falsification over time.33 As a theologian, then, I need to walk a fine line between making responsible and defensible generalizations on the one hand, but yet being concrete and particular enough in order that such second order claims nevertheless have some traction within the various fields of discourse within which they are operative on the other hand.34 33 Hasker and Murphy are the ones mentioned by Jack Wisemore; on Corcoran, a philosopher at Calvin College, see Kevin J. Corcoran, Rethinking Human Nature: A Christian Materialist Alternative to the Soul (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2006).

34 So also my emergence metaphysical hypothesis is committed to some kind of relational ontology (as delineated in my Spirit-Word-Community, part I), which fits with a process

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To be sure, walking such a fine line might mean that I might have little to say, at least at present, on some or other aspects of the theological task. This plays out in both my theological anthropology and my scientific theology of divine action. With regard to the former, being noncommittal on the more specific kind of emergentist theological anthropology I am working with may put me at a disadvantage in answering questions related to what happens to the human person after death. At one level, my reply – tongue fully in cheek – is that if I answered all the questions related to the pentecostal theological research program, that would leave little work for others to do (and working in a PhD program, that would not be very nice for doctoral students). At another level, one always has to decide to what degree one reiterates some work done elsewhere and to what degree one simply points readers to those other places.35 At a third level, of course, it may be simply that matters pertaining to life after death involve tough questions that I have not yet had the time to think through systematically.36 I am sure I will continue to wrestle with these matters going forward.

Operating at the level of generality that I do also raises suspicions that I am not playing completely by the rules of the games at hand with regard to my scientific theology of divine action. Thus Chris suggests that I might be pulling a “fast one” on the NIOSDA criteria with my teleological model, which is another way of putting Jack’s point that the trajectories I chart expose me to critiques from both (or more) sides. However, except for the one moment in which Chris frames my project as seemingly “advocating a strongly subjectivist position,” I think he actually gets me right and answers his own questions. So although he worries on the one hand that my sketch does not preserve the immanent/transcendent dimensions of God, he then also realizes cosmology (without embracing process theology) but just as well maps onto a personalist philosophy as well. In short, again, my foundational pneumatological ontology is general enough to accommodate more than one metaphysical scheme.

35 On this issue of life after death, I have explored facets of a relational and emergence anthropology with regard to the issue of personal identity vis-à-vis those with severe and profound cognitive disabilities – e.g., The Bible, Disability, and the Church: A New Vision of the People of God (Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011), ch. 5, and Theology and Down Syndrome: Reimagining Disability in Late Modernity (Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2007), ch. 9.

36 I have attempted to further elaborate on the notion of disembodied spirits in the afterlife in another rejoinder to another set of responses to my book, “Speaking in Scientific Tongues: Which Spirit/s, What Interpretations?” Canadian Journal of Pentecostal-Charismatic Christianity (2012): forthcoming [https://journal.twu.ca/index.php/CJPC/issue/archive].

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on the other hand that I am defining transcendence, in this dialogue with science, teleologically rather than spatially. Further, he also recognizes that my teleological model has the effect of “collapsing the bifurcation of objectivity/ subjectivity,” which I am suggesting makes possible another way of conceptualizing divine action in a scientifically understood world.37 The question is whether or not such a teleological highroad around these modernist construals of objectivity/subjectivity has sufficient explanatory power or if it in fact, at the end, will be seen as simply avoiding the problem. My bet is that while my proposal may not solve all the problems, it points the way forward simply because science has tried to exorcise the “ghost” of teleology for a long time and it keeps coming back around. We need to find new models for thinking teleologically, and I am suggesting that theologians might be able to help formulate some ways forward for this. Thus also does my proposal remain at a high level of generality so that perhaps it can fund a variety of teleologically oriented research questions that can keep push the theologyscience conversation along in the next generation.

Of the major theological proposals in The Spirit of Creation, I had anticipated that my speculative cosmology of many spirits might be the most controversial. My respondents have not let me down, although, since I really don’t know much about angels and demons, I wish they would have! Here are the constraints, of which Jack Wisemore was certainly the most sensitive to, at least in print. On the one side, science is limited to what is empirically observable. Its scope is the natural world. Yet the Christian doctrine of creation insists that all things apart from God are creatures of some sort or other, and if angels and demons are creatures of any kind, then why might they not be studied or researched in some way? Or, put alternatively, might not their effects, at least, be observed, if we could find ways to sort out the many variables that might need to be isolated in order to conduct anything close to what would be called scientific experimentation on such realities? I have recently been involved in projects with social scientists, for instance, who are developing research methods to study the perceived effects of divine love, without 37 So even if we could determine the objective contours of an event, how to understand the meaning of such would be contested, as Chris’s example of extraordinary phenomena in the gospel accounts already acknowledges (footnote 7 of his paper); there is no way around subjectivity of interpretation, even if such is objectively grounded in real world events – see my article “The Demise of Foundationalism and the Retention of Truth: What Evangelicals Can Learn from C. S. Peirce,” Christian Scholar’s Review 29:3 (Spring 2000): 563-88.

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being committed one way or the other to the existence of God.38 These approaches are suggestive, I would argue, of at least one way forward for theological research on a pluralistic cosmology in dialogue with the sciences. My point is that once we give up on a positivistic, reductionistic, and materialistic scientism, then might such a posture also reopen the question of a science of many spirits? The Spirit of Creation initiates exploration of precisely this set of questions.

Jack Wisemore, however, very gently but no less pointedly invites consideration of these matters within a personalist metaphysical framework. I am actually not adverse to personalism and its philosophical and theological benefits, having at one point studied in depth at least one strand of the personalist tradition.39 At a sufficiently high level of metaphysical abstraction, there is much, I sense, that Jack and I can agree on, although as a trinitarian and pneumatological theologian engaging the sciences, I have found Peircean pragmatism much more conducive.40 But so long as Jack keeps talking about “angels,” he’s on safer ground (although I’m still thinking that angels are a kind of supra-personal reality, even if fully integral personhood only belongs to human beings, who alone are called friends of God, as Jack insightfully notes). But within a Macmurrayean frame of reference, would Jack be comfortable conceiving of “demons” in this personal sense if they are realities that are destructive of human personhood, authentic personality, and of personal flourishing? Further, does not Macmurray’s personalism already take us beyond either the Aristotelian substance-accident metaphysics or the Neoplatonic ideal-phenomenal ontology toward a kind of relational cosmology?

A naïve Aristotelian approach to these matters (and this would not be Jack’s version, I am sure) might insist at the end that angels (and demons) either exist as personal beings or they don’t, while a Neoplatonic rendition would as38 I have recently been involved in projects with social scientists, for instance, who are developing research methods to study the perceived effects of divine love, without being committed one way or the other to the existence of God – e.g., Matthew T. Lee and Amos Yong, eds., The Science and Theology of Godly Love (DeKalb, Ill., Northern Illinois University Press, 2012), and Matthew T. Lee and Amos Yong, eds., Godly Love: Impediments and Possibilities (Lanham, Md.: Lexington Books, 2012). These approaches are suggestive, I would argue, of at least one way forward for theological research on a pluralistic cosmology in dialogue with the sciences.

39 See my “From Pietism to Pluralism: Boston Personalism and the Liberal Era in American Methodist Theology, 1875-1953” (MA thesis, Portland State University, Portland, Oregon, 1995).

40 As I explained in ch. 7 of my The Spirit Poured Out on All Flesh: Pentecostalism and the Possibility of Global Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005).

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sert that these are spiritual realities as opposed to concrete material ones. My claim would be that a scientifically informed relational cosmology which also takes seriously pentecostal insights into the spirit-world would not be saddled with such binary alternatives but could find other non-demythologizing but no less ontologically relevant ways to talk about these very real aspects of a pluralistic and spirit-filled cosmos. If so, as The Spirit of Creation proposes and as I sense in the spirit of Jack’s response, there is much more to talk about in reconceiving a relational theology of many spirits that could bring personalist, Peircean, and emergentist insights together.41 Pragmatically or practically, however, I agree with what I take to be the gist of Fred’s point that we should emphasize the power of the kerygma of Jesus Christ rather than focus on the powers. Hence we ought not to get bogged down on these speculative points, especially if they do not help us to engage the very real life issues of injustice, poverty, oppression, and other urgent matters. It is in part for this reason that I would also advocate for a kind of ontological apophaticism about such things.42 Theologically, what is important about the powers are their eschatological submission under the lordship of Christ. So this means that we may not on this side of the eschaton come to agree about the ontological constitution of the spiritual realities in a pluralistic cosmos, we can and ought to take the principalities and powers seriously in our ministry of healing, reconciliation, and justice. Here Fred’s caution is one we all ought to heed: that our approach to our theological reflections should ultimately enable our carrying out the shalomic work of the incoming reign of God. Part of the response to this touches on Chris’s question about whether what is being proposed in this book would be recognizable by or representative of PC laity. Church theologians walk a fine line between their apologetic and constructive tasks. The former involves reinforcing the plausibility structure of what the ecclesial masses believe, while the latter involves helping the 41 I am coediting, with Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen and Kirsteen Kim, Interdisciplinary and Religio-Cultural Discourses on a Spirit-Filled World: Loosing the Spirits (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, forthcoming), which we hope will shed more light on this very question.

42 Apophatic safeguards about angelology and demonology are articulated more explicitly in my In the Days of Caesar: Pentecostalism and Political Theology – The Cadbury Lectures 2009, Sacra Doctrina: Christian Theology for a Postmodern Age series (Grand Rapids and Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2010), ch. 4.3.3.

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masses reconsider new aspects of what they have always taken for granted.

For me as a pentecostal scholar, this translates into a tension of remaining in continuity with my tradition in some respects but yet forging ahead in discontinuous trajectories in other respects. Yet even our engaging the latter tasks should always bring with it this question: “does it preach?!”43 The material details in The Spirit of Creation might not preach easily, but whatever we preach, understood here in terms of making available for mass consumption, should lead the people of God away from any vestiges of anti-intellectualism, should nurture a critical but yet real appreciation for the scientific enterprise, and should reflect philosophical (and theological) sophistication rather than naïveté. These would be, minimally, characteristics that accompany the kind of faithful preaching and teaching that build up the people of God in our late modern context.

Yet as academics, we realize we remain always in via. The task here involves mobilizing and empowering others to take up important aspects of tasks that are otherwise overwhelming. Our faithful interface with the churches thus should model a PC life of the mind so that there will be another generation of scholars, academic, scientists, and theologians who will take up these matters, hopefully informed by a broader diversity of cultural-linguistic perspectives and experiences than the present one. It is no less than such a Spiritfilled pluralism of voices engaging the theology-and-science dialogue that is needed to advance the conversation as we anticipate the middle of the twenty-first century.44

43 I discuss these matters in my article, “The Spirit, Vocation, and the Life of the Mind: A Pentecostal Testimony,” in Steven M. Fettke and Robby C. Waddell, eds., The Stories of Pentecostal Scholars (Cleveland, Tenn.: CPT Press, 2012), forthcoming.

44 Thanks to Bill Oliverio, Philosophy interest group leader at the Society for Pentecostal Studies, for organizing the panel devoted to assessment of my book, chairing the session (I also appreciate the dialogue with those present at the session), shepherding the presentations into their present written format, and writing the introduction to the set of resposnes plus my rejoinder. I am grateful also to the editors of Australasian Pentecostal Studies for their enthusiastic reception of the idea of publishing these set. May this conversation continue.

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The dynamics of the growth of Pentecostal churches: evidence from key Asian centres William K Kay45 Introduction Pentecostal churches have been growing since their inception at the beginning of the 20th century. This growth was at first unnoticed by the academic community or not thought to be a topic worthy of investigation. Although there were, as we shall see, psychological or psychiatric studies on Pentecostalism before about 1925, the appearance of new Pentecostal denominations was not subject to scrutiny. Only after the 1950s did Pentecostalism attract the wider interest of academics but, even when this was so, growth factors were largely unexplored. Such research as was done tended to be based in the USA and, to a lesser extent, the UK.

Before 1945 Early psychiatric accounts of Pentecostalism focus on speaking with tongues rather than the functioning of Pentecostal churches.46 Individuals who spoke in tongues were studied in isolation and their behaviour treated as if it were a form of psychopathology. Glossolalia were classified along with automatic writing or sleepwalking as symptoms of the turmoil of a subconscious mind within a disintegrating or maladjusted personality. Healing was treated with scarcely less hostility. In a paper published in 1923 Freud examined a case of healing by exorcism and, rejecting any miraculous or spiritual element, explained what happened by reference to his own essentially materialistic model of the psyche.47 Understandably enough, historical accounts of Pentecostalism do not appear until the 1920s. Frank Bartleman’s book on Azusa Street first came out in 192548 while Stanley Frodsham published a wider narrative of Pentecos45 Professor of Pentecostal Studies, University of Chester 46 Mosiman, 1911; Flournoy, 1900; see also Williams, 1981.

47 Freud, 2001.

48 Bartleman, 1925.

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talism, seeing it as a restored form of Christianity in 1926.49 In addition to these accounts, individual biographies and autobiographies of Pentecostal or proto-Pentecostal preachers began to appear. In 1916 Maria WoodworthEtter described forty years of signs and wonders.50 Shortly afterwards Aimee Semple McPherson attracted huge attention both among journalists and in the Christian press, especially once the impressive Angelus temple had been completed in 1923.51 Pentecostal magazines carried short surveys of church history which picked out Pentecostal phenomena during the previous 20 centuries to show that the overt work of the Holy Spirit had never entirely disappeared from the worldwide church.52 There were also numerous articles, pamphlets, circulars and other ephemeral forms of publication associated with the rise, dissemination and organisation of Pentecostalism in its earliest days, and these documents eventually became the raw materials for late 20th century historians. As Pentecostalism established itself into a series of denominations, formal minutes of meetings began to be taken and these were added to the available sources. Contemporary academic writings are, however, scant. There is an academic master’s thesis on the gift of tongues written in 1914 by Charles Shumway (as well as his doctoral dissertation of 1919), but neither of these could be said to be fully worked out historical narratives despite their reference to his interview with WJ Seymour, the leader of the Azusa Street Mission.53 Only at a much later date did scholars begin to enquire into the reasons for Pentecostal expansion.

Journalistic or diary-based publications telling the story of dramatic Pentecostal crusades were published for a growing Pentecostal readership both in the United States and in Britain.54 Aimee Semple McPherson who preached to thousands was the kind of person who could be guaranteed to sell newspapers either because of her glamour or her religious and political views (which were socially inclusive but anti-Darwinian) or because of the scandal she 49 Frodsham, 1926 50 Woodworth-Etter, 1916.

51 Blumhofer, 1993.

52 The first issue of the British AoG magazine, Redemption Tidings published in 1924 contains an unsigned article probably written by the editor and entitled ‘Speaking with tongues and other gifts: Pentecost to 1924’.

53 Charles Shumway’s A B Thesis was completed at the University of Southern California and his doctorate at Boston University.

54 Landau, 1935. Barratt, 1927.

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attracted.55 These accounts, and those given by veteran Pentecostals, focused on the activities of Pentecostal evangelists or divine healing. While it is true that Menzies charted the institutional development of American Assemblies of God, most writers ignored the contribution of culture, worldview or congregational dynamics.56 There was no attempt to provide an inter-disciplinary account of Pentecostal growth across the world.

After 1945 In 1979 RM Anderson published Vision of the Disinherited in which he told the now familiar story of Pentecostal beginnings from the holiness background through to the Azusa Street revival and its associated Apostolic Faith movement and, from there, to the first burst of missionary activity and denominational formation. Where Anderson is different from earlier writers is in his acceptance that a double understanding is desirable. He speaks of trying to understand Pentecostals ‘from the inside’ and, by invoking intellectual and cultural sources, ‘from the outside’.57 He sees ‘religion [as] a cultural tool by which man adapts to his material, social and psychic environment’58 and ‘ecstatic religion as one way substantial numbers of people in varying circumstances have interacted with their material and social environment’.59 In an analysis of key people within the first phase of Pentecostalism he notes how they were almost invariably seekers from a rural-agrarian background driven by ‘the fervent quest… for absolute religious certainty’ that was ‘a measure of the intensity of their anxiety and insecurity’.60 This is to impute psychological states and motives to the early Pentecostals on the basis of speculation - informed speculation - but nonetheless speculation that is not derived from personal interviews or contact. Having said this, the analysis is coherent and persuasive in the sense that it constructs a replacement theory: early Pentecostals, having lost the comfort and security of their rural-agrarian childhoods, embraced the religious substitute supplied by their new beliefs.

55 Sutton, 2007.

56 Menzies, 1971.

57 Anderson, 1979, p 8.

58 Anderson, 1979, p 9.

59 Anderson, 1979, p 8.

60 Anderson, 1979, p 108.

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Psychology and anthropology After the flurry of early 20th century activity, psychological explorations of glossolalia and healing changed their methodologies in the 1960s.61 Greater use was made of control groups and of quantitative studies and psychometric tests.62 There was little or no evidence of pathology among glossolalic practitioners63 and, in 1968, Morton Kelsey using Jungian and rather than Freudian psychology, suggested that speaking with tongues helped integrate the personality by bringing the conscious and unconscious mind together.64 The most original investigations of speaking with tongues came when William Samarin subjected glossolalic utterance to phonetic analysis. When he broke up the sounds into their constituent parts to identify vowels and consonants and checked sound patterns against known languages, he came to the conclusion that tongues-speech was a form of non-semantic vocalisation since the pattern of sounds did not appear to be distributed in the way that would have been the case had they been driven by an underlying meaning.65 His conclusions, though interesting, are less secure than they seem because of the enormous variety of human languages; there are around 4,500 in existence.

Other research examined speaking in tongues from other angles which, as the decade of the 1970s progressed, became increasingly less hostile so that, by the 1990s, research on large numbers of Pentecostals was able to show their levels of neuroticism fell below the norms of the general population. In other words the evidence provided by large-scale studies indicated that, according to their personality profiles, glossolalics were more stable than average.66 In 2004 Robins reviewed well over 100 anthropological publications to go ‘beyond deprivation and disorganisation’ to explain Pentecostal growth.67 He pointed out that other scholars had questioned the deprivation (or replacement) thesis on the grounds that it was impossible to argue that general deprivation could be compensated for by a few hours a week of worship or that, in every case, every kind of deprivation could be met by what the church had 61 Kay, 2006.

62 Malony & Lovekin; Spandos & Hewitt, 1979; Tappeniner, 1974; Lapsley & Simpson, 1964.

63 Kildahl, 1972, appears flawed. See Kay, 2006.

64 Kelsey, 1968.

65 Samarin, 1972.

66 Kay & Francis, 1995.

67 Robbins, 2004.

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to offer. Anthropologists had remarked on the capacity of Pentecostalism to grow and adapt, and they noted particularly its ability to retain core or canonical elements while absorbing cultural differences. This chameleon-like quality created problems of definition that are still unresolved. In another aspect Pentecostalism showed itself capable of functioning trans-culturally as well as with great attention to localism and to do this while shaping gender roles, economic behaviour and political activity. None of this accounted for Pentecostal growth but it did isolate features within Pentecostalism that would have to be addressed in any fully-fledged explanation.

The anthropological method of ‘participant observation’ implicitly accepted Pentecostal practices. Anthropologists who lived closely with Pentecostals and attended their numerous church services could hardly, at the same time, regard these people as dangerous or mentally deranged. By regarding Pentecostalism as, among other things, a cultural phenomenon it was also regarded non-judgementally as simply one of a great range of interesting human activities. In this respect anthropology gave Pentecostalism the respect that had originally been denied it by Freudian methods or the Marxist fringes of the social sciences.

After 1989 testable theories appear The first of these theories are sociological rather than anthropological. They draw on the capacity of sociology to harness historical data for the purpose of generating testable propositions in the contemporary world.

Sociology In 1989 Margaret Poloma brought together an appropriate and sophisticated sociological theory and several original data sets.68 Her sociological theory drew upon the work of Max Weber who had charted the course of many religious trajectories from their early charismatic or prophetic beginnings to their later priestly and bureaucratic expressions. Weber’s understanding of charisma was quoted by Poloma. It is the ‘capacity to achieve ecstatic states which are viewed… as the preconditions for producing certain effects in… healing… We shall henceforth employ the term “charisma” for such extraordinary powers’ (page 88). Weber drew upon a vast array of historical data to 68 Poloma, 1989.

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argue that charismatic authority associated with gifted individuals is then, in the second generation, supported by legal-rational authority buttressed by bureaucratic procedures and means. It is true he also understood charismatic authority could stand alongside religious rituals that might be expressed by priestly figures carrying their own authority. Yet the general direction of religious movements was almost always from an early non-legal stage of dramatic beginnings associated with a charismatic founder to the emergence of a much less innovative and more legalistic generation that found its raison d’être perpetuating the founder’s insights and beliefs. This second generation might contain both bureaucratic systems to operate the financial or administrative functions of the new religious grouping and priestly individuals whose concentration was on the correct enactment of rituals.

All this can be seen in 20th century historical phenomena when a burst of charismatic activity carried by a series of gifted individuals stemming from the Azusa Street revival moved into the second or third generation. The administrative and bureaucratic structures which were built up to secure congregations and enable the continuance of charismatic activity eventually became burdensome. By the end of the century denominations were in danger of being smothered by regulatory by-laws so that, without a fresh spate of charismatic activity, the whole enterprise might become a husk or shell that was Pentecostal in name only.

Poloma hypothesised that the growth of a major Pentecostal denomination in the USA, the Assemblies of God, would be associated with the charismatic experiences and activities of members. She collected the data by participant observation in 16 congregations and by surveys from 1275 congregational members. In addition she surveyed 246 pastors and interviewed more than 50 of them. In this way she brought together congregational data, qualitative pastoral data and quantitative pastoral data. In the tables that she published it is clear that, within the congregational sample, there is a strong and positive correlation between evangelism and charismatic experience and that, among the pastors, there was a strong correlation between charismatic experiences and prophecy and between charismatic experiences and congregational charismatic practices. In this way she established the impact of the senior pastor on the charismatic temperature of his or her congregation and provided

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evidence that, where congregational charismatic activity was high, there was likely to be accompanying personal evangelism as well.

Theology While sociological theory was built and tested, it has to be acknowledged, even with reference to Weber, that there is theological content implicit within sociological conceptualisation. The very term ‘charisma’ comes from the pages of the New Testament. It is not surprising, then, that theology itself may offer an explanation of the growth of Pentecostal churches. After all, theology is theoretically what fills the heads of many Pentecostal pastors.

Pentecostalism had, from the very beginning, defined itself by reference to the outpouring in the second chapter of the book of Acts. In that chapter Peter quotes the prophet Joel, In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy (Ac 2. 17, 18) From this key text Pentecostals understood the Holy Spirit to be poured out universally and especially on the servants of God. What is striking about the passage is that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit belongs to no elite group but is inclusive in its scope. It is for ‘sons’ and ‘daughters’ and ‘young men’ and ‘old man’ i.e. neither age nor gender categories are relevant. If there is a message in this text spiritual empowerment is available to all.

This outpouring of the Holy Spirit is expressed in the doctrine of the Church which picks up Reformation themes about the priesthood of all believers. In 1 Corinthians 12-14, chapters beloved of Pentecostals because they speak of spiritual gifts, there is an exposition of the diverse activity of the Spirit and the benevolent distribution of gifts to members of congregations. A Pentecostal congregation is envisaged as being both diverse and unified by participating in the activity of the same Spirit. These theological ideas have been re-expressed many times but they imply a much more active Christian population than is implied by any high sacramental view of priesthood stemming from Catholicism.

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These theological ideas found their way into Pentecostal congregations from the 1920s onwards but, from the 1980s onwards, teaching about cell groups also occurred.69 This appears to have started in Latin America where cell groups were viewed as an instrument for discipleship. The cell functioned as a gathering of about a dozen people who were formed into disciples. Other understandings of cell groups became possible, some more stringent and controlling and some less stringent and emphasizing informality and friendship.

Thereafter cell groups became the building blocks of big congregations and it was sometimes argued that just as every living entity on the planet is made up of cells so also the church should be. Indeed it is probable that genuine megachurches of several thousand coordinated people could not have been constructed without the ‘invention’ of cell groups.

Sociology and psychology The sociological insights that Poloma tested on Assemblies of God in the United States became the basis of a more extended series of tests I carried out in 2000 in the UK. The UK incorporated variables measuring ministerial and congregational charismatic activity and a variety of personality variables as well. Moreover, while Poloma dealt with only one denomination, the study in the UK dealt with four.70 There were technical differences in the surveys since the information in the UK was derived entirely from ministers and not from congregations. Ministers were asked about their congregations but the congregations themselves were not approached. However, one of the things that ministers usually keep track of is the size of their congregations, and this is especially so in Pentecostal situations since the well-being and income of the minister are almost always directly related to the size of his or her congregation. Big congregations can afford to be generous to their ministers whereas, in small congregations, everyone sacrifices and the minister struggles financially. For these reasons, there is a built-in incentive within Pentecostal congregations to grow. Ministers become entrepreneurial not only because they wish to communicate the gospel but also because they benefit if the gospel is successfully communicated.

69 Ortiz, 1975.

70 Kay, 2000b.

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So the UK study collected data on ministerial charismatic activity and ministerial evangelistic activity. Here the same items were used as had been used

by Poloma and ministers were asked to indicate how often they had exercised certain charismatic gifts and how often they had carried out simple evangelistic activities (like offering to drive people to church). These items were arranged into scales by adding responses together. The scale scores are more robust than scores on individual items and therefore preferable. Individual items may vary widely but, when items are added together into scales, there is a smoothing out effect and scores usually fluctuate less.

Ministers were also asked about their congregations. They were asked to judge what percentage of their congregations exercised charismatic gifts and the extent to which their congregations had grown during the previous 12 months. It then became possible to correlate ministerial charismatic activity with ministerial evangelistic activity and, indeed, there was a clear and significant correlation between these variables: ministers who were charismatically active were evangelistically active. There was a significant correlation between ministerial charismatic activity and the percentage of people in their congregation who exercised spiritual gifts. This is not unexpected. One would expect ministers to serve as an example to their congregations and to be a role model in spiritual matters. So, charismatic ministers engender charismatic congregations.

When personality variables are brought into the picture, it becomes evident that extrovert ministers thrive in Pentecostal milieux. Extrovert ministers take pleasure in the social activities of church life, enjoy the stimulus of risktaking, find contact with other people energising and are not worn out by constant meetings. By contrast, introvert ministers find themselves in danger of burnout. They are placed under stress by the non-liturgical nature of Pentecostal meetings and they may well find it difficult to perform socially risky actions like publicly praying for the sick or prophesying which, despite their prevalence within Pentecostal churches, are unpredictable and carry the possibility of professional embarrassment. We can conclude that extrovert and charismatically active Pentecostal ministers are most likely to be found in charge of growing churches.

This incorporation of sociological and psychological variables within a sin-

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gle setting was only possible because empirical methods in both disciplines are identical. Sociological variables can be quantified in the same way as psychological variables and both kinds of variables can be fed into similar mathematical models for analysis by the same software. Additionally, by bringing together the perspectives of two disciplines, a larger range of hypotheses can be tested and a greater breadth of theoretical possibilities can be entertained.

Indeed, by bringing in theological perspectives as well, it is possible to see show how all these disciplines complement each other. Theology – though this is not why it was written – provides testable hypotheses that can be assimilated to sociological and psychological frameworks; alternatively, it can be said that sociological and psychological theory illuminates theological thought.

Widening the range of disciplines As Pentecostalism broadened and raised its profile globally, it appeared on the radar of more academic disciplines. Not all these disciplines were accustomed to anchor their theories in empirical reality but, even so, it was usually possible to translate theoretical constructs into hypotheses for testing by social science methods.

From anthropological theories come the notion of cultural flow and the harnessing by Pentecostals of the forces of globalisation that could lead to the hypothesis that Pentecostal churches are geared to upward social mobility and prosperity. From some pulpits, particularly in Africa, Pentecostalism almost turned itself into an economic theory by suggesting that the giving away of wealth was the mechanism by which wealth was created.71 This might be expressed in terms of giving to the church or giving to God in order that God might miraculously provide the giver with even greater wealth from another source. Stemming from this kind of cultural analysis, it was also suggested that Pentecostal churches grow because the worldview they support (a worldview of spirits and miracles) is compatible with the worldview inherent in the default culture of many nations. Where spirits, luck, ancestor worship and a background belief in a supreme deity are to be found, the Pentecostal worldview fits well. This is not because Pentecostalism believes in luck and 71 Gifford, 2004.

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ancestor worship but because it provides strong reasons for disbelieving these things. A different kind of analysis is found where post-modernity is fostering cultural relativism. Here, amid the bewildering range of lifestyle choices on offer, authoritative preaching provides answers to conflicted individuals.

The preacher is able to make sense of intellectual foment by pronouncing what is the will of God, what is right and wrong. The hypothesis here is that churches grow because they offer simple answers to complex questions. 72 Feminist accounts of Pentecostalism have not always been positive and this is especially so where historical tracing of diminishing egalitarianism has been carried out.73 In the early days, women were given great freedom within the Pentecostal settings but, as denominational structures and rules came to be enforced, opportunities for the female ministry were restricted. Yet, Pentecostalism was favoured by women in macho cultures since, in circumstances where masculinity was expressed by feckless drunkenness and financial irresponsibility, Pentecostalism won hearts by domesticating males: conversion was the transformation of the irresponsible father into the man who provided for his children and remained faithful to his wife. And later, as megachurches emerged, they were able to offer many opportunities for women to serve in authoritative positions as group or sectional leaders and, once in these positions, they were able to ensure that childcare facilities became part and parcel of the church’s provision. The woman who was looking for a way to rear children within a safe and moral environment could find it within the megachurch.

Theological accounts were expanded to take John Wimber’s idea of a ‘power encounters’ involving miraculous events that expressed the clash between the kingdoms of light and darkness.74 Pentecostals would often speak or ‘testify’ about a miracle that God had performed for them, and this miracle would carry far more weight in their minds than a logical argument. There were times when the uneducated Pentecostal gloried in the fact that he or she ‘had never been to college’ but could dumbfound those who had with a detailed story about, for instance, personal healing or guidance.

Sociological accounts were able to absorb a variety of Pentecostal phenom72 Kelley, 1972.

73 Bosco, 2009.

74 Wimber, 1997.

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ena and, in a variant of the displacement theory, to suggest that Pentecostals might find within a church community a community similar to the one that they had enjoyed in childhood or in their pre-conversion days. The Pentecostal community was analogous to a village with its elders and its pattern of life and its celebrations. The church offered friendship and social interest to those who cared about the lives of other people. Such ideas were testable both by reference to the opinions of ministers and by collecting life history data from congregational members.

Psychological accounts might also involve, in addition to reference to the normality of Pentecostals, the notion of actualisation through the manifestation of spiritual gifts or the integration of the personality through conversion.

Mystical experiences, particularly those that enabled the individual to feel at one with the universe or with the rest of humanity, were testable through appropriate inventories.75 Pentecostal and charismatic churches, after a century of growth, are now found in almost every country and culture of the world.76 It would be impossible to carry out a single global research project focused on the estimated 740 denominations and 18,810 networks which might be included in the Pentecostal and charismatic movement.77 A sophisticated procedure has to be adopted. Countries have to be selected where Pentecostal-style churches are growing (so as to test factors underlying growth) and where there is a rich mix of Pentecostal and charismatic activity. So as to avoid any bias created by one country or culture, several have to be chosen. So as to point towards the future, the countries chosen have to be representative of the urbanizing world, the world to which rural and low per capita income countries aspire.

In the selected countries hypotheses that are believed to have universal application can be tested. Any findings can then be credibly projected forward in time to the likely state of Christianity a decade or two from today. The three countries selected, for reasons given more fully below, are Hong Kong, Singapore and Malaysia (Kuala Lumpur).

Taking the foregoing survey of academic thinking about Pentecostals, at least 75 Kay, 2000b. See also Neisz and Kronenberger, 1978 76 Jacobsen, 2011. Freston, 2008 77 Barrett and Johnson, 2001, p.284. See also Kay, 2007.

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twelve hypotheses put in the form of questions can be deduced. Do Pentecostal and charismatic churches grow by: 1. Promoting the integration, stabilisation and actualisation of personality?

2. Enabling displaced largely urban populations to rediscover communitarian and civic roots?

3. Providing free-flowing charismatic experience/worship to replace religious formalism?

4. Providing charismatic empowerment for individuals encourages them to place their (new) gifts at the service of others, especially in congregations above a minimum size?

5. Matching a Pentecostal worldview of spiritual beings with similar worldviews, especially when these worldviews are largely untouched by the Enlightenment?

6. Offering authoritarian preaching so as to bring certainty in a postmodern world?

7.Empowering women, especially in macho cultures?

8. Building megachurches that can provide so many activities that they can appeal to a range of people?

9. Utilising cell church structures in the cause discipleship and evangelism?

10. Associating with the forces of globalisation and promising personal health and prosperity?

11. Conducting charismatic ‘power evangelism’ or engaging in spiritual warfare to manifest the kingdom of God? 12. Engaging in activities that lead to civic and social transformation?

The locations Hong Kong, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur indicate Asia’s rising aspirations.

Yet, there is in these locations more than a vestige of the old way of life concealed beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and amidst the street markets at the edges of their efficient transport systems. In this respect these cities are a mixture of old and new, rich and poor. Hong Kong has always been a port and entrepôt offering a gateway into China and a door out of which cheaply made Chinese goods can be exported. Since 1998, Hong Kong has been equipped with a state-of-the-art airport that can handle a huge volume

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of freight and passenger traffic. Since 1997, when the British returned sovereignty to mainland China78, a ‘one country, two systems’ administrative formula was enacted and this has brought commercial and political stability.

Property prices have risen with the result that those who purchased in the uncertain period while the handover was being negotiated now find themselves in possession of substantial capital – and this includes churches. It also means that new congregations, even if they are large, cannot afford their own buildings but must instead hire offices in skyscrapers or adapt defunct cinemas or other auditoria.

All the cities have important religious similarities. Each have colonial connections with Britain and educated middle-aged men and women will have been schooled through the medium of English. This, especially in the age of the internet, gives them access to international culture and, if finance permits, opportunities to complete their education in the UK or the United States or, increasingly, Australia. Each contains cathedrals and Christian schools going back well over a century and has a legal system that guarantees religious freedom - although this freedom is not identical in each location. Only Hong Kong retains trial by jury, a right abolished in 1969 in Singapore and in 1995 in Malaysia.79 Each houses multi-ethnic populations with multi-religious beliefs. The Christian community in each location is in a minority but usually an upwardly mobile one. Whereas in Hong Kong and Singapore the Christians may employ Filipino nannies or maids, in Malaysia, except among the Chinese business community, the Christians may be the nannies or maids.

In Hong Kong, Catholics and Protestant combined amount to around 700,000 people or about 10% of the total population of 7m. Of the Christians slightly less than half are Protestant, though this number has been growing since 1997, and the most numerous group are Baptists with more than 154 congregations.80 The Assemblies of God in Hong Kong has broken into two parallel denominations and counts about fifty ministers and a constituency of around 15,000 members.81 In Singapore the Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act (1990, 2001) is intended to ensure that the religious communities currently in existence main78 Craddock, 1994.

79 http://app.supremecourt.gov.sg/default.aspx?pgID=39 (accessed 16/10/2011) 80 Information provided by Dr Nathan Ng of the Hong Kong Baptist Theological Seminary.

81 Information provided by Revd Titus Poon, AoG Superintendent.

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tain similar relative sizes. The resident population of Singapore aged 15 and over rose from 1.6 million in 1980 to 2.5 million in 2000. In 1980 10.1% of the population were Christian and by 1990 this had risen to 12.7% and in 2000 to 14.6%. During the same period Buddhist adherents grew from 27% to 42.5% while Islamic adherents had slightly shrunk from 15.7% in 1982 to 14.9% in 2000. Hinduism increased slightly from 3.6% in 1980 to 4% in 2000. In the same twenty-year period those who accepted no religion rose from 13% to 14.8%. The two most active religious groups are Christianity and Islam and it is these that are kept in balance by the Religious Harmony Act. When these figures are broken down by age group, it becomes clear that Christians are roughly equally spread through the whole age range whereas the Islamic population is better represented among the young. When the figures are examined by education, it appears that Buddhists have grown fastest among those with graduate qualifications. The general picture is of rising educational levels among all religious groups although it is also true that Christians appear to predominate in the university sector with about a third of the student population.82 While the overall population of Singapore continued to rise in the first decade of the new millennium, often drawing in migrant workers from the Indian subcontinent or Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines, the churches aim to keep pace by arranging services in the native languages of these arrivals. Pentecostal-style churches adopted this strategy successfully and this helps explain why they outnumber Roman Catholics by about 3 to 1. There are three large independent charismatic churches: City Harvest has a weekly attendance of more than 25,000; New Creation claims 20,000 and Faith Community Baptist Church 10,000. Assemblies of God in Singapore, which keeps precise annual statistics, has 143 ordained ministers and 83 licensed ministers and almost exactly 50 churches (the number fluctuates year by year).

Religious statistics in Malaysia show a correlation between ethnicity and religion. Native-born Malays are assumed to be Muslim and their religion 82 Figures taken from the Singapore Census of Population 2000, advanced data release no 2.

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is entered on a biometric identity card and legally unchangeable.83 Consequently nearly all the Christians are of Chinese or Indian origin and converted from Buddhist, animist or Hindu backgrounds. The 2010 census showed 61.3% of the population are Muslim, 19.8% Buddhist, 9.2% Christian and 6.3% Hindu. This population is dispersed over 127,354 square miles, many times more than Hong Kong (426 square miles) and Singapore (268 square miles). Whereas the latter are small, compact, vibrant and crowded, Malaysia contains urban and rural landscapes and the different ethnicities are still, to an extent, separated from each other except in the cities. The population of Kuala Lumpur is 1.6m, less than a quarter of Hong Kong’s and a slightly over a third of Singapore’s.

Method Area studies of the interaction between, for example, evangelicalism and democracy, have been carried out in different parts of the world (e.g. Lumsdaine, 2009). Such studies use social science methods to gather information on chosen variables at micro- and macro-levels. In the study reported in this paper, the assumption is that quantitative social science methods can demonstrate the relationship (or lack of it) between variables at the level of the individual, the church and the wider culture. As mentioned in the sociology and psychology section above similar studies have been carried out in the United States and in the UK where patterns of correlation indicate how charismatic gifts within Pentecostal churches are associated with growth of this churches.

The three locations selected for the study are sufficiently similar to each other to allow meaningful cross-cultural comparisons but sufficiently different to allow some of the variations to be attributed to cultural factors. In each of the locations English was an acceptable second language and in each of the locations, although there were a variety of Pentecostal charismatic churches, there were also good numbers of members of Assemblies of God congregations. Consequently it was reasonable to assume that the differences between the three locations were not brought about by sharp variations in Pentecostalism itself but rather by the local cultural variables. Initially, the expectation was that the legal framework in which religion is practiced in each location might make crucial differences to the functioning of Pentecostal churches. In Malaysia a Muslim constitution provides a different setting from the more 83 Hefner, 2010, p. 618.

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open framework available in Hong Kong. Singapore, in this respect, provides an intermediate position since conversion from Islamist possible but contested and, in practice, discouraged by religious harmony legislation.

The three locations are themselves part of larger cultural unities but there is precedent for dealing with Hong Kong as an entity in itself even though it is now strongly pulled towards mainland China (e.g. Tsang, 2011). Similarly studies of Pentecostalism have already appeared in which ‘Asian’ Pentecostalism is seen as a coherent and researchable topic (e.g. Anderson and Tang, 2005). Equally studies have made use of ethnicity as well as geographical area (e.g. Austin, 2011). Such precedents inspire confidence in the ‘key location’ research design adopted here.

Data collection Data were collected by means of a questionnaire distributed to ministers. The questionnaire contained items about the respondent’s religious experience, responsibilities, role, charismatic and evangelistic activity and devotional life. There were also questions about the congregation to which the respondent belonged concerning its structure, size and pattern of meetings. Among these were questions about the percentage of congregational members who exercised spiritual gifts and about the percentage of congregational growth in the preceding 12 months. There were also 174 items written to correspond with the hypotheses drawn from various disciplines referred to above. These items were answered on a five point Likert scale ranging from strong agreement through a neutral mid-point to strong disagreement. The booklet was completed by two personality inventories.84

Sample The ministerial questionnaire was distributed in three ways. In Singapore, it was sent out by the Assemblies of God National Office to 170 ministers with a request the booklet be completed and returned anonymously for a small cash reward. Six ministers from City Harvest also participated. In Hong Kong a day conference was held in an Assemblies of God college and the miscellaneous attendees were invited to complete the questionnaire at the end 84 Eysenck, 1975.

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of the morning session. In Kuala Lumpur two further conferences were held, one for an independent charismatic group, the Full Gospel Testimony, and the other for Assemblies of God. Where data is collected through conferences, it is impossible to calculate an exact response rate. All data were collected anonymously since no names were written on the booklets. Altogether the ministerial questionnaire was completed by 310 ministers. Of these 125 were based in Singapore, 86 in Hong Kong and 99 in Malaysia. Just over 95% of the Singaporean respondents were affiliated to Assemblies of God, and the equivalent figure in Kula Lumpur was 80.8% and in Hong Kong was 48%.

As many as 64% of the Hong Kong respondents answered in Chinese while in the other two locations more than 97.6% answered in English. There was a predominance of males in the sample (59.7% against 40.3%, with two of undeclared sex). The average age was 48 years, with a range from 20 to 76 and a median of 50.

Findings Evidence from the completed questionnaires will be given following the order of the 12 hypotheses above. In each case the evidence is interpreted in relation to church growth.

Personality H J Eysenckâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s personality questionnaire measures the three dimensions of extraversion-introversion, neuroticism-stability and psychoticism-tendermindedness. The instrument has been used internationally and found mildly dissimilar norms within different cultures. In this study, however, the focus is on correlations rather than norms. For instance significant Pearson correlations were found between extraversion and the item â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;by what percentage would you judge the number of people in your ministerial care has grown in the past 12 months?â&#x20AC;&#x2122; (r =.178, p< .003). By contrast a significant negative correlation was found between the growth item and neuroticism (r =-.147, p< .014). We can interpret this as indicating that extraverted ministers are associated with growing congregations and introverted ministers are not. Similarly the neurotic ministers are not associated with church growth whereas stable ministers are. If we see the church growth as leading to job satisfaction and

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self-actualisation, then stable extraverted ministers gain these benefits.85

Communitarian roots A significant correlation was found between the growth item ‘by what percentage would you judge the number of people in your ministerial care has grown in the past 12 months?’ and ‘belonging to a community is important to me’ (rho =.136, p < .021). There was no significant correlation between the growth item and ‘the church reminds me of the small community where I grew up’. We may interpret this as showing that churches which grow are also are attractive to people who value belonging to a community. While it is possible that people who value belonging to a community are those who join churches, is also possible that people who join churches come to value belonging to a community. The lack of correlation with the other items suggests that there is no evidence for the notion that churches are a substitute for the lost communities of youth. Having said this, the mean score on the fivepoint Likert scale for ‘the church reminds me of the small committee where I grew up’ is slightly above the halfway point of 3 (3.63), suggesting that there is marginal support for the proposition. The mean for ‘belonging to a community is important to me’ is 4.36, which is very high.

Free-flowing worship Three items were used to assess worship. ‘I like the free-flowing worship of a Spirit-filled church’ recorded a mean of 4.27, ‘I would like to have a prayer book to help me worship in church’ recorded a mean of 2.59 and ‘singing traditional hymns is a vital part of Christian worship’ record a mean of 3.26.

Anything above 3 indicates agreement and so these figures may be interpreted as showing that, while there is support for traditional hymn singing, what these ministers especially appreciate is free-flowing worship. There is no support for the use of a prayer book.

When these 3 items were correlated with the growth item, the only significant correlation was found with ‘I like the free-flowing worship of a Spirit-filled church’ (r =.201, p <.001) showing that appreciation of free-flowing worship is also associated with, though not necessarily a cause of, congregational 85 Kay, 2000a.

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growth.

Charismatic empowerment of individuals There was weighty confirmation of the item ‘the Holy Spirit gives me gifts to make me a better servant of others’. As many as 52.8% agreed with this item and 38% agreed strongly, giving a total endorsement of more than 90%.

Moreover this item correlated significantly with the measure of congregational growth over the past year (rho = .220, p < .000). Again the direction of causation is uncertain: it may be that growing churches enable people to see the Holy Spirit makes them better servants of others or that, because people believe this, churches grow. If, however, it is argued that standard Pentecostal teaching on the Holy Spirit and spiritual gifts can be taken for granted in Pentecostal churches, then we are entitled to argue that growth is a consequence of this teaching; because people feel empowered to serve others, they do so and, in a virtuous circle, an entire congregation begins to grow.

When annual growth is compared with the prevalence of spiritual gifts within the congregation, a high and significant correlation is found (rho = .517, p < .000). The positive association between these two variables is striking and is shown in table 1. It demonstrates for instance, that in congregations where no spiritual gifts are manifested, there is some growth but more than half (51.4%) have no growth. By contrast, in congregations where more than 30% of the congregation exercise spiritual gifts, over a third (37.8%) have grown by more than 30%.

Worldview matches There is good support for belief in the reality of the spiritual realm and the connection between this realm and the material world. For instance, the mean for ‘the material world and the spiritual realm are closely connected’ is 3.82 and for ‘most people in Hong Kong/Singapore/Kuala Lumpur believe in a spiritual realm’ is 3.73. Higher still is the mean for ‘my church teaches that the spiritual realm is real’ which reaches 4.36. We can express this another way by saying that 75% agree or agree strongly that the material and spiritual realm are connected and just under 70% that in their country most people believe in a spiritual realm. An overwhelming 95% agrees that their church

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teaches the spiritual realm is real. These figures indicate a general consonance between acceptance of spiritual reality in local culture and acceptance of spiritual reality in the church. More than half of the sample (53%) believes ‘there is usually a spiritual cause behind material events’.

When these items are correlated with congregational growth, the only significant association is found with ‘my church teaches that the spiritual realm is real’ (rho = .182, p < .002) which implies that the supernaturalistic worldview of the church is meaningful in these cultures.

Authoritarian preaching Evidence for the acceptability of authoritarian preaching was mixed. The item ‘the best preachers have the most authority’ only achieved a mean of 2.41. The item ‘in this uncertain world we need strong preachers to tell us how to live’ achieved a mean of 3.6. Yet ‘preachers should speak with authority’ achieved a mean of 4.33. Putting this another way we can say that nearly two-thirds of respondents (62.7%) disagreed with the notion that ‘the best preachers have the most authority’ although slightly more (68.4%) thought that we need strong preachers in this uncertain world. Since there was also strong agreement (by more than 95%) with the view that preachers should speak with authority, it appears that the sample could distinguish between the authority of the preacher and the content of the message being preached.

Congregations wanted to hear an authoritative message but they did not think that authoritative preaching was necessarily best.

When these items were correlated with growth, a positive correlation was found only with ‘preachers should speak with authority’ (rho = .184, p <.002). Since there was no correlation between growth and the need for strong preachers to tell us how to live, the notion that churches grow by simplifying existential and moral issues with authoritative pronouncements is unsupported. People expect their preachers to speak with authority and this is because, in Pentecostal churches, they are expected to sit and listen to them for anything up to an hour at a time.

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Empowering women There was strong evidence that these churches supported the ministry of women. ‘Women should have exactly the same opportunities for ministry as men’ recorded a mean of 4.4 and ‘the Holy Spirit empowers women’ a mean of 4.35. Putting this another way, 96% of respondents believe that women should have the same opportunities for ministry as men and 91% believed believe that the Holy Spirit empowered women. Looking at the data from the other perspective, 91% expressed disagreement with the item ‘women should not serve as church officers’ and 89% disagreed with the item ‘women should not preside at Holy Communion’. Similarly 93% disagreed with the item ‘women should not be in charge of congregations’. In short, the population believe that women should hold office in congregations, should or could be in charge and should not be restricted in comparison with men. The only item which indicates a non-feminist orientation is ‘women should obey their husbands’. Here 90% agreed or agreed strongly with the proposition and, given that the sample contains a large number of women, the evidence is that the women also accepted the proposition. Indeed, when the statistics were calculated for women alone, as many as 89% agreed that women should obey their husbands, which was not significantly different from the figures derived from males.

When these figures were examined in relation to growth, significant negative correlations were found between restrictions on women and growth. In other words, where women were restricted, congregations failed to grow or grew less. There was a negative correlation between ‘women should not preside at Holy Communion’ and growth (rho = -.131, p < .024), ‘women should not speak in church meetings’ (rho = -.120, p < .041) and strongest of all ‘women should not be in charge of congregations’ (rho = -.207, p < .000).

There was no correlation between growth and the obedience of women to their husbands: obedience of women to husbands neither enhanced nor impeded growth.

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Megachurch variety There was moderate support for the view that ‘megachurches grow because of the many activities they can offer’ which had a mean of 3.28. Just over half the population expressed agreement with this item (53%). There was general disagreement with the items ‘megachurches are too big and impersonal’ (mean 2.92) and ‘megachurches help children and young people most’ (mean 2.61). In percentage terms just under 40% thought megachurches are too big and impersonal and just over 20% thought that such churches help children and young people most. On the other hand, only 10% of the population thought ‘megachurches can help Christians more than small churches’.

In respect of growth, there was a negative correlation (rho = -.178, p < .002) with ‘megachurches are too big and impersonal’ and with ‘megachurches can help Christians more than smaller churches’ (rho = -.118, p < .043). The implication is that megachurches grow because they are not seen as big an impersonal – and presumably here the importance of cell and home groups comes to the forefront. Similarly megachurches grow because they are seen as being more helpful to Christians than smaller churches by many people – and there is anecdotal evidence of this.

Cell structures There was good support for home groups. ‘Home groups (or cell groups) enhance church life’ gave a mean of 4.26 and a huge 95% agreed with the item.

There was even general support for the item ‘I believe all churches should have a cell structure’ with a mean of 3.28 and an agreement by just over half (51%). Distinctions were made between home groups and cell groups by just over half (53%). The most rigid form of cell structure is usually thought to be G12 where each leader of a group is also a member of the another cell in a way that builds up a pyramid of authority to the top cell led by the senior pastor. The item ‘I believe the G12 cell structure is vital to the future of the church’ recorded a mean of 2.79 and attracted agreement from 17% of respondents. The implication is that, while respondents appreciate cell groups or home groups, only a few were supportive of the stronger discipling system implied by the G12 philosophy.

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In relation to congregational growth there were positive correlations with ‘home groups (or cell groups) enhanced church life’ (rho = .131, p < .026) and ‘I believe all churches should have a cell structure’ (rho = .126, p < .032). A negative correlation was found between growth and ‘I believe the G12 cell structure is vital to the future of the church’ (rho = -.128, p < .03).

In short, a positive view of cell or home groups is associated with congregational growth.

Health and prosperity There was general acceptance that Christians should experience material prosperity as God’s will. ‘All Christians should experience material prosperity’ recorded a mean of 3.38 and ‘I believe God desires the material prosperity of the church’ a mean of 3.74. Some 55% agreed that Christians should experience prosperity although a third (30.1%) disagreed with the proposition. Nearly three-quarters of the population (72%) believe that God desires the material prosperity of the church. When asked how this material prosperity might be secured, 22% thought ‘successful spiritual warfare’ was the answer. However, 53% disagreed with this. There is a divergence of opinion here between those who think that spiritual warfare can bring about material prosperity and the majority who presumably attribute material prosperity to hard work or other factors.

There were no significant correlations between congregational growth and beliefs about material prosperity. This implies that congregations do not grow by expounding doctrines about becoming rich by faith.

There was also negativity towards ‘my church helps me make business contacts’ which only attracted agreement from 17%. However more than three-quarters (79%) did agree with the item ‘my church teaches me how to succeed in the world of work’ and this item recorded a large positive correlation with congregational growth (rho = .227, p < .000). It appears that these churches are preparing their members to do well in the marketplace or the office and giving them skills or confidence or wisdom to make a success of their employment.

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There was strong support for a doctrine of healing. Just over half (51%) believed that ‘divine healing will always occur if a person’s faith is great enough’ and 93% believed in ‘the laying on of hands for healing’. The theological basis for such healing is ‘provided by Christ’s atonement’, a position accepted by 95%.

Congregational growth is correlated with healing. There is a strong significant correlation between growth and ‘I believe in the laying on of hands for healing’ (rho = .208, p <. 000) and ‘physical healing is provided by Christ’s atonement’ (rho = .164, p< .005). There was no correlation, however, with ‘divine healing will always occur if a person’s faith is great enough.’ This suggests that growing churches are exercising a ministry of healing without adopting the extreme position that divine healing always occurs and, where healing does not occur, blaming the sick person for lacking faith.

Spiritual warfare Spiritual warfare was accepted by three-quarters of the population (76%) and the item ‘spiritual warfare is part of my life-style’ recorded a mean of 3.82.

Even more decisive was endorsement of the item ‘my faith has rescued me from believing in the power of luck’ which was accepted by 91%. There is rejection of traditional Chinese fatalism connected with gambling and superstitions designed to bring good luck. Christianity offers believers faith in God that counteracts and contradicts susceptibility to the blind force of Lady Luck.

There is a strong positive correlation between being rescued from the power of luck and congregation growth (rho = .173, p < .003).

Civic transformation Seven items with the stem the ‘my church ought to be fully involved in giving practical help to …’ assessed the range of compassion. The list of people was: ‘the poor’, the elderly’, ‘unmarried mothers’, ‘AIDS sufferers’, ‘the unemployed’ and ‘ethnic minorities’. In every case there was a mean above 3.0, the midpoint, so that, for example, 80% thought their church ought to be

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involved in giving practical help the poor, 79% in giving practical help the elderly, 75% in giving practical help to unmarried mothers, 66%, in giving practical help to drug addicts, 50% in giving practical help to AIDS sufferers, 58% in giving practical help to the unemployed and 66% in giving practical help to ethnic minorities.

When these figures were correlated with congregational growth, significant positive correlations were found in every case apart from AIDS sufferers and ethnic minorities, though even in these two cases the correlations were positive if not significant. The most likely interpretation of this correlational evidence is that churches which are compassionate towards people in need grow.

Conclusion There is evidence for 10 of the 12 hypotheses given earlier. The strongest evidence supports free-flowing charismatic experience, the charismatic empowerment of individuals, the matching of worldviews, the empowering of women, use of home groups, a doctrine of healing, rejection of the power of luck and compassionate social action leading to civic transformation. The notion of Pentecostal congregations as oases of transcendence for displaced populations finds little or no support and authoritarian preaching appears less important than the authority of the message that is preached.

The hypotheses may be divided into two groups: factors specific to Pentecostal/charismatic churches, and factors that might apply to non-Pentecostal/ charismatic churches. Reference to spiritual gifts like healing, free-flowing worship and spiritual warfare stem from a Pentecostal theology. Reference to integration of personality, creation of community, the service of other people, multiple activities through the resources of the megachurch, the message of health and prosperity, the message of being prepared to succeed in the world of work, and activities leading to social transformation through compassionate social action may stem from broadly based Christian theology. Some of the factors associated with church growth in Pentecostal churches could be transferred to non-Pentecostal churches that might, as result, grow. And the traffic in these common factors can go both ways. There are large Baptist and Free Evangelical churches alongside large Pentecostal and charismatic

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churches so that the actual structure of the church is not dependent upon a specific theology of the Holy Spirit. What appears to be important is that big churches foster friendliness and encourage small groups to form even if their central events comprise large congregational meetings dominated by biblical preaching.

Standing back and looking at these findings in the light of the international data referred to earlier, there is evidence that the dynamics of church growth in Hong Kong, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur are similar to the dynamics of church growth that were discovered in United States and in Britain. These dynamics rest on the presumption that numerous individuals are empowered by the Holy Spirit within congregations and, by this empowerment, the individuals become active in a variety of ministries that help the church to grow.

There are correlations between the percentage of the congregation exercising spiritual gifts and the rate of church growth. Thus charismatic gifts and church growth go hand-in-hand. Or, we can put this another way by saying that spiritual gifts within congregations do not have the result of repelling newcomers from the church. The implication here is that Pentecostal and charismatic churches need to retain their heritage because it is precisely this heritage which drives their growth. Moreover, this heritage appears to sit as comfortably, perhaps more comfortably, in an Asian setting as in an indigenously western one.

Bibliography Anderson, R. M. (1979). Vision of the Disinherited. Oxford, UK: OUP. Anderson, A. H. and Tang, E. (eds) (2005). Asian and Pentecostal: the Charismatic Face of Christianity in Asia. Oxford: Regnum Books.

Austin, D. (2011). Kingdom-Minded People: Christian Identity and the Contributions of Chinese Business Christians. Leiden: Brill.

Barratt, T. B. (1927). When the Fire Fell and an Outline of My Life. Oslo: Alfons Hansen & Sonner.

Barrett, D. B. and Johnson, T. M. (2001), Global statistics. In S. M Burgess and E. van der Maas (Eds), The Nes International Dictionary of the Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Bartleman, F. (1925). How Pentecost Came to Los Angeles: as it was at the beginning: old Azusa mission, from my diary (4th edition ed.). Los Angeles, CA: Published by

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the author.

Blumhofer, E. (1993). Aimee Semple McPherson: everyone’s sister. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans.

Bosco, E. E. (2009). Pentecostalism in Columbia as fundamentalism and feminism.

In D. Westerlund (Ed.), Global Pentecostalism: encounters with other religious traditions (pp. 227-242). London, UK: I B Tauris.

Craddock, P. (1994). Experiences of China. London: John Murray.

Eysenck, H.J. and Eysenck, S.B.G. (1975). Manual of the Eysenck Personality Questionnaire. London: Hodder & Stoughton.

Flournoy, T. (1900). Des Indes a la Planete Mars: etude sur un case de somnabulisme ave glossolalie. Geneva: Evvimann.

Freston, P. (2008). Protestant Christianity (Africa, Latin America, Korea). In Beyer, P. & Clarke, P. (eds.), The World’s Religions: Continuities and Transformations, London, Routledge. pp. 533-550.

Freud, S. (2001). Outline of Psycho-Analysis. In S. Freud, The Standard and Complete Psychological Words of Sigmund Freud. London: Vintage.

Frodsham, S. H. (1926). With Signs Following: the story of the latter-day Pentecostal revival. Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House.

Gifford, P. (2004). Ghana’s New Christianity. Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.

Hefner, R. W. (2010). South-East Asia from 1910. In F. Robinson (Ed.), The New Cambridge History of Islam (vol 5): the Islamic world in the Age of Western Dominance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Jacobsen, D. (2011). The World’s Christians: who they are, where they are, and how they got there. Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell.

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Kay, W. K. (2007). Apostolic Networks in Britain. Carlisle, UK: Paternoster.

Kay, W. K. (2000a). Job satisfaction in Pentecostal ministers. Asian Journal of Pentecostal Studies , 3 (1), 83-97.

Kay, W. K. (2000b). Pentecostals in Britain. Carlisle, UK: Paternoster.

Kay, W. K. (2006). The mind, behaviour and glossolalia - a psychological perspective. In M. J. Cartledge, Speaking in Tongues: multi-disciplinary perspectives. Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster.

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Forty Years. Chicago: Hammond Press, W B Conkey Co.

Table 1 Crosstab By what percentage Percentage of congregation exercising charismatic gifts

would you judge the number of people in your ministerial care grown in the past 12 months?

2 5.7% 5 5.6% 4 11.1% 2 6.5% 2 10.5% 31 37.8%

Total

46 100.0%

Chi-square 162.806, p > .000; gamma .540, p > .000

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‘Now Ye Are Clean’: Sanctification as a Formative Doctrine of Early Pentecostalism in Hong Kong Connie Au86 Introduction Hong Kong was a tranquil fishing port for centuries, but after the Opium War in 1842, it became a British colony authorized in the Nanking Treaty. The British intended to transform this little island into a trading port, so that British and other western businessmen could easily import goods from the west to mainland China. Since then, Hong Kong has become a transaction point for western and Chinese business, culture and religions. As a British colony, Christianity could be spread to Hong Kong without political obstacle in the nineteenth to the early twentieth century. As a result, Hong Kong Christianity is a galaxy of branches of European, British and American Christianity, and Pentecostalism was no exception. The Pentecostal message was brought to Hong Kong by Alfred and Lillian Garr in 1907. It was widely spread through a local preacher, Mok Lai Chi. He founded the Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission in the same year, which is the first Pentecostal church in Hong Kong and one of the oldest in the world. As Mok was one of the handful of Chinese who had excellent command of both English and Chinese languages in the early twentieth century, he was able to bridge Pentecostalism between the West and the Chinese. His periodical, the Pentecostal Truths, was an essential media spreading Pentecostalism to Chinese in Hong Kong, mainland China and North America in 1908-1917. Each issue contains three pages in Chinese and one page in English. Due to Mok’s intercultural acquaintance and the unique geographical, historical and political characteristics of Hong Kong, Pentecostalism as a global movement could be rooted in the Chinese society, bearing both the western and Chinese elements.

Since Pentecostalism in Hong Kong was first influenced by the Holiness Pentecostals, including the Garrs, T. J. McIntosh and J. H. King, besides the teaching of the baptism in the Holy Spirit evidenced by tongues, sanctification played a significant role in the formation of local Pentecostal doctrine. As 86 Dir of Pentecostal research Centre and lecturer, Divinity School of Chinese University of Hong Kong.

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the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Finished Workâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; and Oneness Pentecostal doctrines were formulated and the respective denominations were established in North America, Hong Kong Pentecostalism was also shaped by those two streams through their missions.

But to trace the doctrinal root of Hong Kong Pentecostalism, sanctification should be the starting point. This paper proposes that a sanctification-centred theology was the foundation for the early doctrine of salvation, Spirit baptism and healing. These three experiences were chronologically sequential and theologically conditional, since according to the logic of the early Pentecostals in Hong Kong, without the former experience the latter one could not possibly happen. This argument is consolidated through a careful study of the nineteen extant issues of Pentecostal Truths.87 It contained both theological and testimonial sections which rationally and experientially demonstrate the significant role of sanctification in the Christian life and in the spread of the Pentecostal movement Sanctification: A Formative Doctrine Whilst the American holiness Pentecostalism stressed the three stages of crisis experience: conversion, sanctification and baptism in the Spirit with evidential tongues,88 Pentecostalism in Hong Kong emphasised conversion and sanctification as the first single experience, the baptism in the Spirit with tongues was the second and healing was the final step for those who were sick. Sanctification is not only a chronological experience, but more importantly, from a theological perspective, it is an indispensable concept to interpret the other two steps. If we only analyse sanctification from an experiential perspective, we will overlook its significance to the other two steps. Hence, to understand early Pentecostal teaching in Hong Kong, it is necessary to take sanctification as the central doctrine which formulates the teachings of 87 All quotes adopted from the periodical and applied in this article are translated from Chinese into English by the author.

88 For the theology of Holiness Pentecostalism, please refer to Robert M. Anderson, Vision of the Disinherited: The Making of American Pentecostalism (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1979); Donald W. Dayton, Theological Roots of Pentecostalism (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1987); Steven Land, Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdom (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993); D. William Faupel, The Everlasting Gospel: The Significance of Eschatology in the Development of Pentecostal Thought (Sheffield Academic Press, 1996); Grant Wacker, Heaven Below: Early Pentecostals and American Culture (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001); Vinson Synan, The Holiness-Pentecostal Tradition. Charismatic Movements in the Twentieth Century (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1997); Aspects of Pentecostal-Charismatic Origins (Plainfield, NJ: Logos International, 1975).

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baptism in the Spirit and healing.

1. A Sanctification-centred Soteriology As far as early Pentecostals in Hong Kong were concerned, conversion happened not because of a rationally-justified analysis of the gospel, personal preference of Christian moral teachings or good deeds, but solely through repentance of sin. Repentance is a crucial step in both sanctification and conversion, which are almost synonymous. I name this process as a ‘sanctification-centred soteriology’. Early Pentecostals in Hong Kong clearly stated that repentance was about confession, restitution and renunciation of unhealthy habits and hobbies. According to the statement of faith of the Pentecostal Mission, the first criterion of becoming a member was to repent, which was also the first stage of becoming a Christian. A true repentance required a serious attitude towards God’s words, which conveyed the truth, and the truth could sanctify (John 17:17).89 On confession, Mok stated that people should know that they were sinners and should confess with sorrow. Similar to western Pentecostalism, Mok’s teaching was combined with Luther’s justification by faith and the Pentecostal emphasis of the faith in ‘the Blood’. This Blood was interpreted with the Wesleyan sanctification theory that it could save sinners through washing sins away, and they perceived that the Holy Spirit was the one who sanctified sinners through the Blood. This sanctificationcentred soteriology, compiled with Reformation and Wesleyan emphases and embodying Christological and pneumatological metaphorical references, was believed to be the criterion of the next crisis experience, the baptism of the Holy Spirit.

On restitution, according to the statement of faith, people should search their past and their consciences to find out if there were sins against God and people in words, deeds and intention, because people had to pay the price for what they had done, like paying debt. They should not think that because they had asked for the cleansing of the Blood, they could avoid apology and seeking forgiveness. Whoever realised that they had offended either God or people should ‘reconcile with God; reconcile with people’ and seek forgiveness from them.90 The only possibility for exemptions to happen was when the offended 89 “Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission”, Pentecostal Truths (PT), 3/2 (February 1910), p. 2.

90 Mok Lai Chi, “In the Future”, PT, 1/11 (November 1908), p. 4.

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person was dead or could not be contacted anymore, and the offender could ‘trust in the previous blood of Jesus to cleanse (Matt 5:23-24)’. The Mission believed that restitution was ‘the true Christian way of life’ to heal divisions among churches.91 It specifically urged people to pay back property or money obtained from committing fraud, extortion, robbery and theft. They should ‘give back what they took in pledge for a loan, return what they have stolen’ (Ezek 33:15)’ by all means and effort, like Zacchaeus. If they were not able to pay back immediately, they should turn to God for his providence. Restitution was a means to obtain and remain in salvation, as Jesus comments about Zacchaeus, ‘This day is salvation come to this house’ (Luke 19:9).92 Whoever accomplished restitution would be rewarded with cleanness, peace and purity in the heart and would have no ground for accusation.93 Personal conduct and behaviour were strictly regulated in early Pentecostalism in Hong Kong. It was a concrete way to demonstrate one’s determination to live not according to the ‘flesh’, but the ‘Spirit’, and to ‘put off the old self’ and ‘put on a new self’ (Eph 4:22-24). As far as repentance was concerned, renunciation of harmful habits and hobbies and abstaining from sinful behaviour were indispensable in the repentance process; otherwise, all the confession and restitution would be in vain. This could not be done only by human effort, but also by ‘the precious blood of Jesus Christ’, which could ‘certainly cut off the chain and bring liberation.’94 Mok listed habits, behaviours, attitudes and hobbies that should be avoided: Bad habits: smoking Luzon cigarettes or opium, smoking with pipes or snuff bottles, or drinking; Bad behaviours: telling lies, deceiving, blackmailing, worshipping idols, foul language, reviling, disputes, factions, avarice, stealing, beating, be friend with sinners, blaspheming against the Lord’s Day, arson, murdering, adultery, thuggery or making enemies; Bad attitudes: jealousy, arrogance, anger or enmity; Bad hobbies: attending theatres, partying, gambling, playing cards, horse91 “Essentials for Seeking the Baptism of the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 2.

92 Mok Lai Chim “Restitution”, PT, 2/8 (October 1909), p. 1.

93 “Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission”, PT, 3/2 (February 1910), p. 2.

94 Mok Lai Chi, “Brief Notes”, PT, 2/4 (April 1909), p. 4.

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racing, cricket-fighting, reading erotic stories or witchcraft.95 Mok was especially concerned about getting rid of smoking. He published several articles to explain its harmfulness and sinfulness. One of them was a testimony of Lau U Ha, a preacher of the Church Missionary Society for 22 years, on how he gave up smoking. Lau perceived himself as being ‘bewitched by the tobacco demon’ since he wanted to smoke when he was walking, standing, sitting or sleeping. This perpetual habit was removed just by Mok’s single question to him, ‘“How dare tobacco smokers use that part of the human body which is called nostrils, into which the Lord God did once breathe the breath of life, for a chimney to let out our smoke of the poisonous weed?”’ Lau believed that this ‘tobacco demon’ was cast out by the Holy Spirit when Mok prayed for him. Afterwards, he began to ‘seek God’ and was dismissed by the CMS ‘without any cause’.96 Mok rebuked those who justified smoking and drinking as ‘false teachers’, based on Proverbs 20:1, Joel 1:5, 1 Tim 3:3 and Titus 1:7.97 Furthermore, the Mission made clear statements against divorce, concubinage, adultery and visiting prostitutes. It forbade divorce unless it should happen because of adultery. Members were not allowed to abandon their husband or wife and marry another person. They could only remarry after the death of his or her spouse because marriage was ‘a tie for the whole life’.98 Visiting prostitutes was regarded as a way of adultery as ‘those who are united with a prostitute become one with her’. The Mission was also strongly opposed to concubinage although it was a common practice in the traditional Chinese society, especially in wealthy families. Chinese accepted concubinage as it was a way to provide male descendants if the first wife was not able to do so, so that the familial business and properties could be securely inherited. Conventionally, it was believed that to have many children was regarded as a sign of blessing as a result of the male dominants’ virtue. Regardless these practical concerns, the Mission condemned this practice, as the statement says, ‘Those who marry more than one wife and keep concubines commit adultery. The adulterous cannot inherit God’s kingdom. May those who love God’s truth 95 Mok Lai Chi, “Jesus’ Salvation”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 3; “What Is Repentance?”, PT, No. 34 (April 1912), p. 3; “Beware of False Teachers”, PT, 3/2 (February 1910), p.

96 Lau U Ha, “A Native Preacher’s Testimony”, PT, 3/3-4 (March-April 1910), p. 4.

97 Mok Lai Chi, “Beware of False Teachers” 98 “Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission”, PT, 3/2 (February 1910), p. 2.

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discipline their desire and respectfully follow these sound warnings.’99 Another ‘sin’ which Mok was strongly against (particularly between 1909 and 1911) was joining either the pro-emperor party or the revolutionist party led by Sun Yat Sin. He insisted that first, according to Paul’s teaching in Rom 13:1-7, it was against God’s institution to rebel against governments on earth; and second, according to Gal 5:19-21, it was wrong to join either party because hatred, variance, wrath and strife would grow; consequently, party members would have no right to inherit the kingdom of God. He criticised the Christians who joined the parties as ‘drunkards’, who were delighted by the bait but overlooked the fish hook. He anxiously exhorted them to ‘transcend this sinful world and rise above the secular trend’. They should also repent immediately so that they would be cleansed by Christ’s blood.100 If people followed these instructions and had faith in the purifying blood, they were promised that they would not regret this and truly be saved (2 Cor 7:10). True repentance led them ‘for glory unto glory, from faith to faith to be filled with the fullness of God’s grace.’101 This sanctification-centred experience was evidenced by a supreme joy or the seeing of visions.

However, these three elements of repentance are not necessarily exclusively Christian in origin; other religions and ethics, especially those of Buddhism and Confucianism in the Chinese context, also mention about renouncing of the old self and doing good, repaying debtors, and confessing mistakes and misbehaviours to the offended. What makes this teaching Christian, and particularly Pentecostal, is the emphasis on Jesus’ redemption, his blood and the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit. In his article published in Pentecostal Truths, Wong Kei Hing urged people not just to repent, but to repent thoroughly; not just to change, but to change completely; not just to be anxious about not repenting, but about not trusting in Jesus. He believed that without Jesus’ crucifixion and forgiveness of all evil ‘with his highest grace’, the spot of sin and marks of evil would remain because they could not be naturally cleansed away by repentance. To keep away from sin, people must repent, 99 Ibid.

100 Mok Lai Chi, “The Revolution and Pro-Emperor Party, Please Read It”, PT, 2/5 (May 1909), p. 3.

101 “Sin and Repentance”, Mok Lai Chi (trans.) from Word and Witness, PT, No. 38 (March 1915), p. 2.

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transform and trust in Jesus thoroughly.102 Wong makes the teaching on repentance Christian. To be specifically Pentecostal, Jesus’ blood is central in the entire sanctification and salfivic process. Mok clearly stated, ‘Jesus’ blood is completely holy, not sinful’ and is ‘still pouring out for all sin’. He explains that Jesus’ blood can ‘destroy’ sin, save souls and spirits, heal diseases and lead people from hell.103 Human beings can be liberated from the bondage of sin and bad habits.104 In his article published in Pentecostal Truths, an unnamed American preacher asserts that ‘the Lamb’s blood cleanses our dirty clothes to become white’ (Rev 7:14).

Through sanctification, people were consecrated and became a holy living sacrifice to offer to God. It was also a preparation for being baptised by the Holy Spirit. Baptism in the Spirit could not cleanse sins away, but it was an evidence of being already sanctified.105 This emphasis on the sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit vividly brings out the Pentecostal character of this sanctification-centred soteriology. This American preacher claimed that it was the Holy Spirit who touched ‘sinners with the precious blood’ in the first step; he was also the one who filled the sanctified sinners in the second step.106 Mok named the Holy Spirit as the ‘secret power’ that revealed the hidden sins in human’s hearts and prompted people to ask for forgiveness from God and people. He exhorted his readers to seek the Holy Spirit on earth while they had the opportunity; otherwise, the sin would be exposed in the last judgment.107 Li Xiu Fu, a member of an Alliance Church in Wuzhou in China, believed that people who acted out goodness and were baptised by water did not necessarily have the Holy Spirit.

Hence, he advised readers to seek a holy life as a way to secure the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, ‘the holiest and purest God’ and this ‘water of life’ would not only flow from the belly, but also to eternal life.108

102 Wong Kei Hing, “Repent Ye (Matt 3:2)”, PT, 2/8 (October 1909), p. 1 103 Mok Lai Chi, “Jesus’ Blood”, PT, 2/5 (May 1909), p. 2.

104 PT, 2/4 (April 1909), p. 4.

105 Mok Lai Chi, “‘Three Truths in the Bible”, PT, 3/7-8 (July-August 1910), p. 3; “Jesus’ Salvation”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 3.

106 ‘Three Truths in the Bible’, Mok Lai Chi (trans.), PT, 3/7-8 (July-August 1910), p. 3.

107 Mok Lai Chi, ‘The Holy Spirit Searches All Hearts”, PT, 2/4 (April 1909), p. 2.

108 Mok Lai Chi, “You Should Seek the Water of Life”, PT, 2/13 (January 1909), p. 1.

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The 48 testimonies in the nineteen issues of Pentecostal Truths reveal that this soteriological emphasis was not always heard by believers and non-believers in that period. Some of them were born in a ‘gentile’ family and some were baptised as an infant, including Mok himself. They recorded that their conversion started from sanctification by sorrowfully confessing every single sin that they had committed since their childhood. Subsequently, they were filled with an unspeakable joy as an evidence of sin being forgiven. Mok recalled that before his Spirit baptism, he could not help committing sin such as ‘enmity, strife, aggression, jealousy, arrogance, pride, telling lies, mocking others, outburst of anger, dissension, disputes, drinking, smoking’, etc. His transformation happened when he was alarmed by the message of Jesus’ imminent return. He immediately sought for Jesus’ blood to cleanse all his sin away and he became ‘as soft as cotton and as clean as snow’.109 Cheung Tsui King, a student of one of Mok’s schools, recorded that

I heard about the gospel in school, but I did not know about becoming a Christian through repentance. Until 1914, when I studied in Ming Dao Girl’s School, I realized that I had to repent and believe in Christ...He cleansed away my sins and flaws with his blood and made me full of joy.110 Chan Yuk Hing was ‘born in a family of gentiles’ and repetitively committed sins like ‘lying, outbursts of anger, hatred, worshipping idols and being superstitious of evil power.’ She recorded that at the Pentecostal Convention in 1915, she heard about the coming of God’s kingdom and it was necessary for people to repent, and so she did. She also asked for forgiveness from the people whom she had offended. In a few days she was cleansed and purified.

She was so joyful and happy.111 An anonymous person witnessed, saying,

On 3 June this year, I went to the Pentecostal Missions and heard Mr Mok saying that we sometimes sinned and should ask the Lord to wash it away with his precious blood; otherwise, even though you were baptised, you could not go to heaven. As I heard that, I was awake and found myself full of sin…I felt uneasy and poured out tears. In less than an hour, I was 109 Mok Lai Chi, “A Sharing of the First Anniversary of My Baptism in the Holy God”.

110 Cheung Tsui King, “Washing away My Sins, Taking away My Flaws”, PT, No. 39 (April 1917), p. 4.

111 Chan Yuk Hing, “The Healing of My Physical Sicknesses”, PT, No. 39 (April 1917), p. 4.

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washed by the Lord’s blood and I was full of joy in my heart.112 Ko Tsui Lan, who had been baptised as a child and regarded herself as a Christian for more than a decade, realised her sin through Mok’s preaching.

She said,

Although I went to church on the Sabbath, prayed and read the Bible sometimes, I committed a lot of sin. I admitted that I was a sinner serving God, but I did not know that it was wrong. Compared to the Christians in the past who served God, my baptism did not cut me off from sin.’

She also clearly described her repentance and sanctification experience by saying, He (God) led me to light and I repented. I sobbed in front of God, but he had mercy on me. He cleansed my sin and scars with the precious blood of Jesus. I immediately felt at ease in my heart and spirit and was supremely joyful. Praise God. Thanks for his grace.’113 Wen Kwai Hing was also baptised by sprinkling of water few months after her birth, but she still worshipped Pusa (Bodhisattva). She realised her sin when she attended the Pentecostal meeting at the American Board Mission.

She states that, The sin had seemed to be small, but at that time it became so big. I had used to think that it was not harmful, but I saw how bad it was. So I knelt down in front of God to seek his mercy, forgive my sin and cleanse my heart with his previous blood...On the day of my salvation, God gave me exceeding joy.

The salvation that she was referring to did not happen when she was baptised as a baby, but when she was sanctified through repentance.114 Wan Yan Chi sadly admitted that although she was born in a Christian family, she did not know the truth. For more than a decade, she described herself as having a withered hand that could not hold the Bible, and being a blind and dumb person who could not see and hear the truth. She was changed in 112 ‘The Lord Baptised me with the Spirit and Fire’, PT, No. 36 (January 1914), p. 2 113 Ko Tsui Lan, “The Indescribable Happiness and Joy”, PT, No. 36 (January 1914), p. 2.

114 Wen Kwai Hing, “God Gave Me Surprising Joy on My Salvation Day”, PT, No. 36 (January 1914), p. 2.

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June 1914 when she heard about repentance and the cleansing of sin of Jesus’ blood. She recorded: At that moment, the Holy Ghost of God convicted me of my sins. I became restless and I could neither sleep nor eat. I knelt before the Lord and asked for the cleansing of His precious blood. That night as I was doing my evening prayer, the Lord answered my prayer. My sins were washed away. I shook and leaped a foot high. I was cleansed and felt as light as a feather, full of unspeakable joy for about a month.115 After being sanctified, these testimonies all recorded being baptised by the Spirit accompanied by evidential tongues or visions. They could clearly date these two experiences or tell the time gap between them, probably because these two experiences brought dramatic changes in their lives within a short while. Some of them who had suffered from diseases were healed. All their testimonies have an identical sequential pattern of spiritual experiences: a sanctification-centred conversion, Spirit baptism and healing. The following will analyse how sanctification enabled a person to be baptised by the Spirit.

2. The Baptism of the Holy Spirit: A Reward of Sanctification The sanctification-centred soteriology raised an awareness of sin and encouraged a person to seek a renewed and purified life through the power of Jesus’ blood. This purified life created a space for the Holy Spirit to abide in a person’s heart. That entering of the Holy Spirit was called Spirit baptism, according to Acts 1 and 19, which was the crucial experience that the early Pentecostals in Hong Kong were determined to propagate. The method they taught to obtain this baptism was sanctification through a sorrowful repentance and faith in justification. Mok perceived that this teaching on sanctification preceding the indwelling of the Holy Spirit made the Pentecostals distinctive from other churches, as he critically questions, ‘Do churches not always talk about seeking the Holy Spirit? Yet we can hardly hear about being sanctified so that the Holy Spirit can dwell in us.’116 This Pentecostal message of Spirit baptism was spread through establishing the church, mission outreach and the Pentecostal Truths. As the editor, Mok was particularly 115 Wan Yan Chi, “This is Truly from God”, PT, No. 37 (November 1914), p. 3.

116 Mok Lai Chi, “Brief Notes”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 3.

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anxious about achieving the goal of the paper, which was lead to people to be baptised by the Holy Spirit. He said: If you read this newspaper and understand its benefit but do not seek Spirit baptism, it will be a great pity for the reporter of this paper…if the Lord comes back and you say, “I have read this paper and I am saved”, it cannot possibly happen. Jesus will come back very soon. Dear Readers, please pray for the baptism quickly without delay. The way to pray for it is illustrated in each issue.117 ‘The way’ that he mentions in the quote is illustrated in two articles printed in almost every issue, ‘Essentials for Seeking the Baptism of the Holy Spirit’ and ‘How to Tarry for the Gift of the Holy Spirit’. These two articles advised people, as analysed above, to repent sorrowfully, confess their sins, repay others, and know the grace of justification and sanctification, so that they could be baptised by the Holy Spirit. All the preparations for Spirit baptism were actions taken by individuals but were also the sanctifying power of the blood. Hence, the cleansing blood was regarded as the first cause of Spirit baptism and Spirit baptism demonstrated its power.118 The Mission specifically distinguishes between sanctification and Spirit baptism as two different experiences. Based on John 15:3, ‘Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you’, and John 20:22, ‘Receive ye the Holy Ghost’, it firmly declares, ‘If you are not clean, you cannot receive the Holy Spirit’ because Spirit baptism is to empower the sanctified (Acts 2:3-4). The Mission was fully aware of the fact that many people were confused by these two experiences, which resulted to their loss of ‘the glory and power of seeking the true Pentecost’.119 Mok believed that Spirit baptism was not given for every Christian, but only for ‘true disciples of Jesus’, who trusted in God, followed his commandments with all their strength, obeyed God completely, offered their lives to him, and sacrificed their family, property, reputation and other things which were dear to them—and certainly these disciples must have been sanctified already.120 If anybody did not fulfil one of these criteria, his 117 Mok Lai Chi, “Seek after It; Seek after It”, PT, 1/11 (November 1908) p. 3.

118 Mok Lai Chi, “The Difference between Having the Holy Spirit and Being Baptised by the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/13 (January 1909), p. 2; “Everybody Needs the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/6 ( June 1909), p. 3.

119 “Essentials for Seeking the Baptism of the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 2.

120 Mok Lai Chi, “Have Ye Received the Holy Ghost?”, PT, 2/6 (June 1909), p. 2; “Offer

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prayer for Spirit baptism would not be answered.

Moreover, Mok believed that people could not receive Spirit baptism because of their unbelief. He felt disappointed with some of the so-called intellectuals who strongly resisted the Pentecostal experience and boasted in their qualifications. He assertively declared, ‘The Pentecostal experience is the work of God. God does not start the work on our head, but our feet, so that we will bow on the floor in front of him. Please stop your own study, but let God come and examine you.’ Since there were many well-educated people in churches who rejected the grace of Spirit baptism, he regretfully said that the old-time power had been lost in the church and miracles such as healing, prophecy and tongues could only happen outside the church in his evangelistic work.121 On the other hand, he withstood the idea that those who were not baptised by the Spirit also had the indwelling of the Spirit, which he condemned as a deception from the devil. If Christians were not baptised by the Spirit with speaking in tongues, they did not have the Spirit in their lives.122 Like many early Pentecostals, the Mission believed that the purpose of Spirit baptism was to empower believers and the church so that they would be triumphant. Without the power of the Spirit, human intelligence would be worthless, sincerity would be absurd and a large congregation would be useless.123 It is not clear what he meant by ‘triumphant’, but certainly it could not be paralleled to the contemporary mega-church and prosperity mentality. It is possible that ‘triumphant’ referred to being a faithful disciple, as he said, ‘This baptism is to help us to be in God, walk in God and glorify God’ because it gave individuals an external and internal protection from the Holy Spirit. He explained, ‘When the Holy Spirit is outside our bodies, like our clothes, he protects us from attacks from the outside. When we have the Holy Spirit inside our hearts, he protects our hearts.’124 The Mission did not follow other western Pentecostals who linked the empowerment to foreign mission. It was because, first, they did not believe in the myth of the ‘missionary tongues’, as Mok stated, Yourself to God, Be Sanctified”, PT, 2/7 (August 1909), p. 3.

121 Mok Lai Chi, “Everybody Needs the Holy Spirit”.

122 Mok Lai Chi, “Beware of False Teachers”.

123 Mok Lai Chi, “Have Ye Received the Holy Ghost?”

124 Mok Lai Chi, “The Difference between Having the Holy Spirit and Being Baptised by the Holy Spirit”.

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To get the Chinese, one must speak the language. Both preaching and teaching must be done in the Chinese language. The time being so short, the saints have to go to work at once. They have to work through interpreters.125 Nevertheless, early Pentecostals in Hong Kong shared significant common ground with other Pentecostals, especially from America, and that was the adherence to tongues as the evidence of Spirit baptism, based on Acts 2:4, 10:46, 19:6 and other scriptures from the Lukan literature. Tongues were believed to be the sign of physically being surrendered to the authority of the Holy Spirit.126 It also proved to Pentecostals from different countries that they were baptised by the Spirit.127 Mok declared, ‘If you claim that you have the Spirit baptism but don’t speak in tongues, you cannot convince me. If you don’t have the proof from the Bible, then the Holy Spirit has not come to you. Please don’t deceive yourself’.128 On the other hand, he also thought that tongues was to testify to non-Christians about the power of God (1 Cor 14:21-22). No matter whether aimed at believers or non-believers, Mok encouraged people not to seek tongues, but Spirit baptism, because it was God’s commandment in the Bible.129 Besides tongues, he also believed that Spirit baptism was also proved by the performance of signs and wonders, such as exorcism, picking up serpents, drinking poison but not being hurt, and laying hands on the sick to heal.130 But more importantly, Spirit-baptised people were endowed with precious spiritual qualities, such as humility and obedience, which were externally demonstrated in their deeds and words. This emphasis shows that in his theology, Spirit baptism was not only aimed at empowerment for engaging in mission and evangelism, or endowment with charismata, but also sanctification and living a holy life. Sanctification cannot be excluded from any spectrum of spiritual experiences. All these experiences in the Holy Spirit must result in holiness and a nourishment of spiritual character and integrity.131

125 PT, 2/8 (October 1909), p. 4.

126 Mok Lai Chi, “Everybody Needs the Holy Spirit”.

127 “How to Tarry for the Gift of the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 3.

128 Mok Lai Chi, “Beware of False Teachers”.

129 Mok Lai Chi, “Brief Notes”, PT, 2/6 (June 1909), p. 2.

130 Mok Lai Chi, “Jesus’ Salvation”.

131 Mok Lai Chi, “Have Ye Received the Holy Ghost?”

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3. Healing: Physical Sanctification Following many other early Pentecostals, the Pentecostal Mission believed that Jesus’ salvation covered all aspects of lives, both spiritual and physical needs. As far as the Mission was concerned, there was only one source of all kinds of diseases, and that was the devil. By trusting in the power of Jesus, the ‘wicked plan’ of the devil would be smashed triumphantly.132 On the Christological account of healing, Mok gave a detailed explanation supported with scriptures in the Old and New Testament. He argued that the ‘stripes’ in Isa 53:5 referred to the whip marks on Jesus’ body at Pontius Pilate’s court and the blood shed at that moment was for the sake of cleansing our weaknesses and diseases. That suggests that healing was part of the work of sanctification. From the account of the exodus, he proposed two references to explain about healing. The first one was God’s promise to the Israelites, ‘I, Yahweh, who give you healing’ (Ex 15:26).133 The second one was the eating of the lamb before the exodus and he believed that the meal kept the three million strong and healthy for the journey. As the exodus lamb in the Old Testament empowered the Israelites physically, so also the bread at Communion could maintain the partakers in good health or could heal the sick. Since Jesus said to the disciples, ‘Drink ye all of it. For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins’, the Communion could also save souls. He argued that if people did not believe in the healing power of the Communion, it would be worthless for them to celebrate it and consequently, they would remain unhealed. He radically stated that medicine was ‘poison’ and declared, ‘…if you take it, it will kill you and make you not take any regard for Jesus’ atonement.’ Whenever a sick person came to him, he strictly followed James 5:13-15 and prayed with oil.134 In the statement of faith of the Pentecostal Mission, exorcism was mentioned in the section of ‘Divine Healing’.135 It shows that the early Pentecostals in Hong Kong considered that being possessed by demons was being ill or could cause physical sicknesses. The Mission taught its members that Jesus’ disciples had the authority to cast out demons and Jesus’ blood was a power132 “Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission”, PT, 3/2 (February 1910), p. 2.

133 Mok Lai Chi, “Yahweh Heals You”, PT, 3/7-8 (July-August 1910), p. 2.

134 Mok Lai Chi, “The Healing Power in the Atonement”, PT, 2/5 (May 1909), p. 3 135 “Hong Kong Pentecostal Mission”, PT, 3/2 (February 1910), p. 2.

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ful weapon as it proclaimed, ‘Our battle cry: Victory in the Blood of Jesus.’136 It instructed its members that if they were disturbed by demons, they could call out ‘Jesus’ precious blood’, or ‘with the Lord’s precious blood’.137 Mok had such a strong faith in healing and rejection of medicine partly because of his faith in the scripture based on his literal hermeneutics; partly because of his personal and family’s experience. He testified that his whole family of all ages had to make frequent visits to the doctor for many years.

There was always somebody in the house being sick from day to night, suffering from either a cold or diarrhoea. He spent lots of money on medication and also produced some medicine himself. This all changed after he and his wife were baptised by the Holy Spirit. They were healed after prayer and never saw the doctor again.138 His wife particularly suffered serious illnesses on two occasions. First in 1913, she lost a considerable amount of blood and bore lots of pain in her abdomen. Her heart was very weak that she could not feel the pulsation. As she was prepared to die, she called her children to give her the last kisses. But actually she could not compromise with the idea of leaving her children alone, so she exhorted them to ‘resort to prayer and ask God to return to them their mother’. Eventually she ‘was delivered from the grip of the enemy’ and praised God more than ever.139 In the following year, she suffered from heart palpitations and was also healed by the ‘great Physician’ after continuous prayers.140 Healing was perceived to be both physical salvation and sanctification. It unarguably demonstrated the essence of salvation through Jesus’ blood, especially for those who suffered from chronic diseases and had lost hope of recovery, or for those who were close to death. It was also a physical empowerment for the poor who could not afford medical treatment, which was common in the Hong Kong society of that period. Moreover, if a sanctification-centred conversion and Spirit baptism spiritually liberated individuals from sin, then healing delivered them from physical flaws and imperfection.

If holiness implies wholeness, and if holiness not only refers to the spiritual 136 “Essentials for Seeking the Baptism of the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 2.

137 “How to Tarry for the Gift of the Holy Spirit”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 3.

138 Mok Lai Chi, “Divine Healing”, PT, 2/3 (March 1909), p. 4.

139 “Mrs Mok Lai Chi”, PT, No. 36 (January 1914), p. 7.

140 Mok Lai Chi, PT, No. 37 (November 1914), p. 4

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aspect, then healing is indeed a concrete way to show early Pentecostals the holistic meaning of holiness and sanctification.

Comments The fundamental doctrine of sanctification which developed the theology of conversion, Spirit baptism and healing reveals a moral and spiritual perfectionism in early Pentecostalism in Hong Kong. In Pentecostal Truths, this perfectionism was expressed with language showing a sense of urgency that the bridegroom, Jesus Christ, would return very soon at any time, and hence the bride, which was the church, had to be ready by keeping itself flawless through sanctification. It advised people what they had to ‘do’ in order to be sanctified including repentance, restitution and renunciation of old habits before his return. However, this ‘doing’ mentality could easily neglect the other side of sanctification, which is the Wesleyan emphasis of the ‘free grace’ of God, followed by the ‘perfect love’. If holiness is regarded as an ‘achievement’ through ‘doing’, then it unavoidably leads to legalism and believers can hardly understand the freedom in the presence of the Holy Spirit. But if holiness is a gracious gift that Christians ‘possess’, it is a foretaste of heavenly perfection and the fruit borne from it must be love, love for God and for others. Steven Land rightly states that ‘the character of holiness is love in the believers. It is a perfect love filling the cleansed, emptied vessel and without which the believer’s gifts, sacrifices and righteous deeds will profit nothing.’141 Nevertheless, this sanctification-centred Pentecostalism is indeed a valuable heritage that contemporary Pentecostals cannot afford to forsake. Its emphasis on discipleship through constant reflection on spiritual life and repentance reminds Christians of the costly grace of Jesus’ blood. Its triumphalism regarding a true discipleship challenges the current triumphalism based on church growth and prosperity. Its balanced view of the Christological and pneumatological account of salvation and spiritual experiences may inspire some current Pentecostals and charismatics who pursue the gifts of the Spirit rather than the crucified Saviour. Undeniably, the formation of a doctrine can be influenced by specific political, social and cultural contexts of a certain historical period and some of the doctrines become obsolete as these contexts 141Steven Land, Pentecostal Spirituality, p. 128.

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are changing. In the contemporary world which has been dominated by capitalism and utilitarianism, the self-disciplinary teachings of sanctification are not much appreciated. However, to preserve the distinctive Pentecostal identity and to protect the movement from going astray, it is worthwhile learning from the past and reflecting upon the current trend.

Ghana’s New Prophetism: Antecedents and Some Characteristic Features Joseph Quayesi-Amakye joeamakye@hotmail.com JOSEPH QUAYESI-AMAKYE is completing his Ph.D studies in Contextual and Cross-Cultural Theology with Vrije Universiteit, Amsterdam, the Netherlands from where he obtained his MA, Theology. He also holds a Master of Philosophy in Religious Studies from the University of Cape Coast, Ghana.

He is a lecturer with the School of Theology and Missions of the Central University College, Accra, Ghana.

Abstract This paper examines some characteristic features evident in Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism. It describes and analyses the features to give a vivid picture of what is currently going in the Ghanaian prophetic scene. It identifies the fact that the prophetic phenomenon is not peculiar to Pentecostalism, and sets the movement’s antecedents, describing five phases of prophetic ministries. What distinguishes this new phenomenon is the way prophets take advantage of new socialising gospel tools, such as music, worship, and the media to ‘sell’ their prophetic wares to the masses. The paper examines the prophetic phenomenon in terms of the Bible, traditional Akan religion and the erstwhile African Initiated Churches.

Key words Prophetism, prophetic periods, prophetic phases

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Introduction In the last days, God said, I will pour out my Spirit upon all people, Your sons and daughters will prophesy, Your young men will see visions, And your old men will dream dreams.

In those days I will pour out my Spirit Upon all my servants, men and women alike, And they will prophesy (Acts 2: 17-18; cf. Joel 2:28-29).

(Life Application Study Bible: New Living Translation) Underscoring the continual relevance, importance and all-encompassing nature of prophecy in the church, Michael Griffiths points out that “prophecy is the most commonly referred to of all the gifts. It comes in no less than seven lists….” In reference to the scripture text above he notes, “Peter is saying that Joel’s prophecy is now fulfilled. Notice that Peter has added the words ‘and they will prophesy’ not found in Joel, thus implying that the gift will be common among Christians, fulfilling the hopes of the Old Testament that ‘all God’s people should prophesy’ (Num. 11: 29)”.

In Ghana, ripples of prophetism have characterised Christianity since the turn of the twentieth century. Yet this phenomenon is not restricted to the Ghanaian scene alone. In fact, it has been part of African Christianity ever since the faith was reintroduced into the continent by Western missionaries. Today prophetic ministries have become more or less a ‘normal’ religious phenomenon. We find ‘prophets’ in both Classical Pentecostal churches, such as the Church of Pentecost (COP), and neo-Pentecostal churches. Yet Pentecostal prophetism still remains an ‘unexplored’ field that calls for serious scholarly investigation.

Prophetism poses a challenge and yet offers hope to Christianity due to its ability to respond to soteriological and pastoral needs amidst its ‘unexplained’ nature and ‘unconventional’ operations. Indeed, many are they who find problems with the ethos and theology of contemporary Ghanaian Pentecostal prophets. Pentecostal prophets are often accused of being pecuniary-motivated in their cause. Yet despite the criticisms, that include media

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reports, the phenomenon is becoming more and more appealing to many Ghanaians, Christians and non-Christians alike. One thing is clear. We do not have to pretend to be unconcerned with issues on prophetism. Neither should we think we can eradicate it simply because we have problems with it. As Opoku Onyinah has noted, the early Christian missionaries failed when they attempted to erase prophetism in both its traditional and ‘Christian’ versions from their converts.

It may be stated here that biblical prophetism and Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism share apparent similarities. Whereas the emphasis in Pentecostal prophetism may differ somewhat from OT prophetism the former tends to share similar trends with the latter. For in both cases there is ample evidence to show that the prophets sought or seek to provide solutions to the problems of their people in particular situations and periods of their history.

It is also important to state that, in responding to the material/physical and social needs of adherents, Pentecostal prophets unintentionally tend to exploit the existing Akan religio-cultural worldview. To better appreciate what really goes on in Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetic circles one needs to analyse the group and individual psychology of both clients and prophets. Therefore a study on Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism demands an examination of its discernible trends that leads to the systematisation, analysis, formulation and evaluation of Ghanaian Pentecostal conception and practice of prophetism as dialectics of Biblical and Akan religio-cultural beliefs in response to the Ghanaian quest for meaning. This paper seeks to examine the features that currently characterise Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism. The question we ask is “what are some characteristics of contemporary Pentecostal prophetism in Ghanaian Christianity?”

Prophetic Antecedents in Ghana Both Emmanuel K. Larbi and Johnson Asamoah-Gyadu identify some prophetic figures as the precursors of Ghanaian Pentecostalism. The two scholars agree that these prophets were characterised by the charisma they received from God in their encounter with the Holy Spirit. Similarly, Virginia Torvestad asserts that the charismatic powers of such leaders were transmitted

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to sub-leaders who had healing and prophesying abilities themselves. These leaders proclaimed an all-powerful Christ to the people. Thus through their activities the then Gold Coast witnessed a strong and powerful prophetic and spiritual revival.

Two things are obvious in Ghanaian independent church history. Either the protagonists of the movement were rejected and/or branded as impostors by their mainline church fellowships or felt compelled to leave them to initiate a new work. Thus C.G. Baëta shows that Joseph Egyanka Appiah was compelled to abandon the Methodist Church as a teacher-catechist to initiate his own church, the Musama Disco Christo Church (MDCC), and build his ‘holy city’, Musano as a city for the faithfuls.

Three out of the numerous prophets and prophetesses who pioneered and/ or maintained African Initiated/Indigenious/Independent Churches (AICs) in Ghana were Prophets William Wadé Harris, John Swatson and Sampson Oppong. These have enjoyed some amount of scholarly research into their ministries in recent times. To these may we add the ministries of such prophets as Jehu Appiah and Kwame Nkansah, etc.

Thus prophetism in Ghanaian Christianity is traceable to the AICs, the precursors of modern Pentecostalism, the latter continuing and perhaps improving on the former’s weaknesses and lapses. These strands in the Spirit movement operate on the premise that whatever works supernaturally in the church is of God irrespective of how it is achieved. But Pentecostal pragmatism can sometimes be problematic.

According to Opoku Onyinah this kind of pragmatism posed a major challenge in the 1950s to James McKeown, the Irish missionary-founder of the Church of Pentecost, when prophetism emerged in his organisation subsequent to the Latter Rain movement’s visit to that church. The Latter Rain Evangelical Association was a North American revivalist Pentecostal group.

This group led by one Dr. Thomas Wyatt visited the Apostolic Church in the Gold Coast and Nigeria in February 1953. The group’s visit brought great revival to the Gold Coast church. Not long after converts such as Brother Lawson emerged as prophet-healers in the church.

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Different Pentecostal expressions in Ghana include what have been classified as Classical Pentecostalism, and neo-Pentecostalism, which in itself manifests in diverse expressions. Meanwhile the latest Pentecostal expression, since the arrival of Prophets Joseph Owusu-Bempah and Elisha Salifu Amoaku in the early 1990s, is what I call New Prophetic Churches (NPCs).

It is generally acknowledged that Pentecostalism is the prevailing Christian expression with invasive impact on global Christianity. Yet in Ghana today it may be correct to say that it is the prophetic ministry which is strongly making this assertion true. Pentecostal prophets do not restrict their operations to the country, but even beyond. They prophesy on migration issues and follow up with prophecies to guide and direct migrant clients in their lives in their lands of sojourns. Some travel to foreign lands, particularly, the West, for ministry. Of course, the pecuniary motivation cannot be denied. It is also true that this is one particular ministry that attracts most criticisms, accusations and suspicions. Prophets have been subject to public scrutiny and accused of being fraudsters, sexually immoral, competing with fellow prophets and using juju powers.

Prophetic Phases in Ghanaian Christianity A phase is used here to denote the various stages of prophetic manifestations in Ghanaian Christianity. I maintain that the current prophetic manifestations in the country may well be described as the fifth phase of that phenomenon.

The first phase of Christian prophetism occurred in the era of the AICs, traceable to the pioneering ministry of people such as Prophet Wade Harris, a Liberian who trekked the Nzema area of the then Western Province of the Gold Coast in 1914. Harris and other leaders like him prophesied, saw visions and offered spiritual directions to their clients, who came to them in search of spiritual relief from diseases, sicknesses, etc. This first phase of prophetism was followed by the emergence of Classical Pentecostalism, through the pioneering work of people such as Apostle Peter Anim. His faith-healing prayer group, Faith Tabernacle Church, began in 1917 after he read about faith-healing from American magazine, Sword of the Spirit. In 1923 the Spirit of God fell on Animâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s organisation like burning flames of fire in their small Asamankese chapel in the then Eastern Province of the Gold Coast.

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In the early 1950s some Pentecostal prophets like Brother Lawson and Prophet John Mensah emerged on Ghana’s religious scene. Both men used to be in McKeown’s organisation until they seceded to form their respective churches. This prophetism is identifiably the second phase of Christian prophetism in Ghana.

In the 1970s the third phase of prophetism appeared, characterised by Ghana’s campus Christian fellowships. For instance, in his Ph.D thesis Evangelical Para-Church Movement in Ghanaian Christianity: (1950 to Early 1990s) Samuel Adubofour discusses the Inter-Hall Christian Fellowship of the (Kwame Nkrumah) University of Science and Technology, Kumasi. One of the protagonists, Kwabena Adu Baah, is reported to have stated that “‘prophecy’ was the excitement of the day”. According to Adubofour the campus prophetism of the Inter-Hall Christian Fellowship “attracted reactions which range from derogatory remarks to outright condemnation”. In fact, this phase of prophetism was experienced in the campus Christian fellowships of both second cycle and tertiary institutions. In the early 1980s it was to transfer to the public domain in the activities of the Town Fellowships. Consequently, the charismatic ministries (CMs) that eventually resulted from these campus and town fellowships gravitated around prophetic words, visions, dreams and directions of members and leaders.

The fourth phase of prophetism is traceable to the denominational prayer centres/camps in the Church of Pentecost (COP), among others, which came to prominence in the early 1980s. In Gifford’s view they filled the gaps in the faith gospel of the CMs. He asserts that since 1985 they have subsided, with the soteriological shift being now tilted toward the prophetic ministries of the CMs. As Onyinah has shown, the problem with Gifford’s claim is that he fails to see these centres as places that catered for COP rather than Charismatic members’ existential needs. They were actually spiritual insulators against COP members’ ‘straying’ into the AICs’ healing gardens. Among the CMs it may be said that the emergent deliverance ministries provided the supernatural explanations for failings of the faith gospel claims. Again, evidence on the ground proves Gifford’s assertion partially incorrect. These centres still enjoy high patronage as a visit to any of them will show.

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According to Onyinah these camps/centres arose in response to the witchdemonology of the 1980s and 90s - the synthesis of the practices and beliefs of African witchcraft and Western Christian concepts of demonology and exorcism. These beliefs include affirmation of the reality of witchcraft, demons and gods, ancestral curses, and territorial spirits that need to be “mapped out.”

In order for people to be set free, special sessions of deliverance prayer are conducted. They serve as ‘safe havens’ for a great majority of troubled and perplexed Ghanaians who resort to them for a special time of prayers in the expectation of receiving answers from God to their numerous existential needs and problems.

According to Kwasi Addo Sampong the first prayer centre established in evangelical/Pentecostal circles is associated with the COP. However, it is uncertain which preceded the other, whether the Okanta Camp near Suhum or Maame Dede’s Prayer Camp at Kade, both in the Eastern Region of Ghana. Indeed, the Christ Apostolic Church maintains that its Kwao Yeboah Prayer Camp at Brekumansu near Asamankese is the first prayer centre in Ghana’s Pentecostalism, predating either the Okanta Camp or Maame Dede’s Prayer Camp. This particular camp, also called Owiredu Memorial Prayer Centre, has an interesting history. It is said to have been established in 1932 after prophet-evangelist Stephen Kwabena Owiredu received the Holy Spirit baptism with signs and wonders there. Stephen Owiredu had suffered multiple child mortality with his wife Madam Emma Oduraa. When one of his twin daughters, Yaa Ataa Atinwo, popularly called Maa Ataa, became critically ill to the point of death, he took his Bible and went into the woods to pray. He warned that he should not be sought for. He was resolute to get God bring his daughter back to life or he committed suicide. The child died at about 2.00pm on her mother’s laps who broke down in uncontrollable tears. Owiredu returned home after encountering the Spirit with shouts of ‘halleluyah, amen’. Upon taking his dead daughter from his wife he blessed water, dipped his Bible into it, raised it up and soberly said, ‘Lord, your will be done’. Then he splashed the water thrice on the child on the ground. There and then the child resurrected. Significantly, Maa Ataa, one of the narrators of the story, is still alive, a very old woman.

As Sampong points out the current growth and proliferation of these centres

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is perceived by many as a positive sign of engendering Christian evangelisation and revival in the country. Both Onyinah and Larbi see the prayer camps/ centres as places where people go to with various needs for supernatural succour via prayer and fasting. Both agree that the activities at these centres gravitate around a key personality who is a prophet/prophetess or evangelist. On his part, Alfred Koduah proffers two main reasons for the proliferation of the prayer centers (camps): the Ghanaian traditional understanding of this-worldly soteriology and the consultative nature of the Ghanaian, which makes them “consult Christian faith healers and Pastors whenever they seem not to get ready answers through their normal prayers”.

The Ghanaian traditional this-worldly salvation interprets life existentially.

This means that to enjoy life requires negotiating all that impedes good life.

Such impediments are often tied to spiritual causality such as the works of devils/witches and the use of bad medicine against innocent lives. I have argued elsewhere that critical to both the traditional and Pentecostal prophetic worldviews is the causality of suffering in human life. In both traditional religion and Pentecostalism there is a search for a “cosmological balance of power” that is made possible through the provision of a supernatural succour outside the believer. For Pentecostalism the supernatural succour is in Jesus Christ, the redeemer of humanity. Through his redemption the believer is seated far above all intimidating satanic forces. Consequently, the activities of these centres/ camps are directed towards healing: spiritual, social, communal and material wellbeing.

Though their initial existence dates back to the 1940s it was not until the 1980s that the prayer centres became prominent in the religious life of many Ghanaians. Therefore Onyinah sees them as “revived prayer camp(s)” in COP. Again he associates their activities with those of the Deliverance Teams, Prayer Warriors and Prayer Towers set up by Para-church groups and other churches to cater for the ‘urgent’ needs of their followers. Their patrons cut across the socio-religious divide: political personalities, the rich, the poor, Christians and non-Christians such as Muslims and traditional religionists.

The fifth phase of prophetism began with the emergence of independent pro-

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phetic figures in the early 1990s. This was when a new crop of young Pentecostals arrived on the ecclesiastical scene. Among these were Prophets Elisha Salifu Amoako and Owusu-Bempah. Significantly, it was just when the prayer centres in COP numbered eight (by October 1993), and had begun assuming a nationwide popularity, that the prophetic ministries in neo-Pentecostalism were also beginning to emerge on a large scale. The prophets/prophetesses of these prayer centres share a lot in common with the prophets within neoPentecostal Christianity today. While it is true that the former predate the latter their activities today are concurrent.

Today, it is not uncommon to hear of ‘prophet such and such’ organising a ‘prophetic’ service or to hear a ‘prophet’ speak on the airwaves. A significant feature of these prophetic services is the prophets’ belief in the omniscience of God and their own role in the supernatural delivery. For example, one Prophet Benjamin Akonnor’s Kingdom Word Chapel International presented “a 4 Day Prophetic Direction to know your future” with the invitation “Come and God will show you where you have to go”. This prophetic scene is not restricted to Ghanaian prophets alone. Even Nigerian ‘prophets’ take advantage of it as ‘A 5-Day Holy Ghost Revival’ service of Kingdom of Fire Chapel International, Accra, a church run by a Nigerian pastor Rev. Benjamin C. Elechi, presented fellow Nigerians to ‘reap’ into the Ghanaian prophetic harvest.

Rationalising Prophetism Broadly speaking, prophetism exists in African traditional religions where it operates through mediums, priests and diviners. Whereas priests/priestesses and mediums may provide information orally under spirit possession, diviners are able to foretell events by means of their divining skills and objects.

In Ghana, just like in many parts of Africa, many Christians and non-Christians desire to acquire information in response to their existential needs such as wealth, health, business, progress, education, marriage, promotion, foreign travels, etc. With their traditional African religiosity, they turn to people with powerful spiritual connection to elicit such relevant information. But society is fast changing; it is becoming more and more ‘Christianised’ and ‘civilised’.

Hence, many of such people find it ‘unwholesome’ to visit the traditional

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sources for the requisite information. Therefore they prefer going to Christian prophets. Consequently, it is not surprising to meet even Muslims and other non-Christian believers in Pentecostal prophetic services. For instance, during my visit to Elder Andoh’s Down Town Prayer Centre at Kasoa there were Muslim clients among the new visitors who were asked to introduce themselves to the congregation. Yet because of their particular modus operandi contemporary Pentecostal prophetism has elicited a lot of suspicions and doubts among Ghanaians.

New Wine in Old Skins Today, prophetism has become very prominent in Ghanaian Christianity because of the ‘quick’ solution it offers to its adherents/seekers. Many of these ministries or churches are initiated by semi-literates with virtually no Bible School education. These churches/ministries’ relationship with Western Christianity is indirect and filtered through the primary lens of indigenous spirituality. However, their leaders take great delight in undertaking foreign trips, particularly to the West; and many of these semi-literate or/illiterate prophets are beginning to conduct church services in English.

These churches present a revived or perhaps a refined form of the older AICs. For instance, their employment of ritualistic materials/acts is reminiscent of the AICs of yesteryears. Examples of such acts are the application of ‘anointing oil’, foot washing, altar-raising, possession-walking, atmospheric-prophetism and gate-breaking/building. Others are the use of blessed substances like ‘koko’ (a maize gruel eaten in Ghana) and whipping the devil with cane.

Others still are shooting spiritual arrows and bombs against spiritual forces, hand clapping; causality diagnosis of diseases or calamities/problems, etc.

Although there seems to be a continual proliferation of these prophetic groups which would suggest their continual popularity, evidence on the ground seems to indicate that many Ghanaians are beginning to question the genuineness of their leaders. It is reasonable to think that the problem that the phenomenon seems to pose in the religious scene occasioned the conveyance of the “1st National Prophetic Leadership Conference”, held at the Prayer Cathedral of the Christian Action Faith Ministries, in Accra from Sunday to

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Thursday (4_8 June 2006).

Actually, this was not the first of such prophetic conferences to be held in the country. Indeed, way back in 1998 Rev. William Obeng-Darko organised a prophetic conference in Kumasi. The convener of the present programme, Bishop James Saah, the Resident Bishop of the host church, made it clear in his opening address that the conference was “not an inquisition or censorship on anybody”, but was intended “to offer mentorship”. Notwithstanding his assurance one could surmise that underneath all the flowery speeches the organisers felt there was something seriously wrong with the phenomenon.

Music and Worship in Ghana’s New Prophetism The place of music and worship in Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism cannot be overemphasised. Indeed, Adubofour traces what he calls ‘contemporary gospel music’ movement to music groups formed by evangelical students in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The continuous presence and importance of music in Pentecostal services is clearly and strongly underlined in both grassroots prophetic ministries of COP and the NPCs. In these ministries there is a conscious effort to employ good, soul-inspiring, spirit captivating music and worship to ‘tap’ into the spirit realm. This is aimed at ‘releasing’ the active presence of the Holy Spirit into the faith community. To some degree their livelier, spirit-filled and empowering worship revitalises and revolutionises Christianity. Indeed, there is an appeal to OT prophetic ministries of Elisha and David whose employment of music and worship led to the manifestation and release of God’s Spirit in resolving serious existential problems of people (I Sam. 16:14-23; 2 Kings 3:14-20).

One would wonder why Pentecostal prophets are so enthused about music and worship. Prophet Stanley Nana Quagraine of the Family Bible Church at Mataheko in Accra provided an insight into this. He told the congregation: In this end-time the prophetic ministry thrives on music and worship. By these God speaks to individual worshippers. Music invokes the supernatural presence of God into the midst of worshippers. Music is indispensable to the power of God. Prophets of this end-time employ music and worship in their ministry greatly.

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By the ‘End-Time’ Ghanaian Pentecostal prophets tend to interpret the current charismatic manifestations in the church in continuity with the apostolic era. Consequently, they do not believe the gifts of the Holy Spirit have ceased with the passage of time. Against this background is their assertion that the church today must function and operate in the charismatic gifts which include prophetic gifts of words of knowledge and wisdom, and discerning of spirits.

Nonetheless, Ghanaian Pentecostal prophets are not known to be date setters of the end of the age, the very thing that R. B. Y. Scott reminds the church to be wary of.

It is not uncommon in a Pentecostal prophetic service to find a singer called upon to ‘prepare the ground and charge the spiritual atmosphere’ with ‘powerful’ worship songs before a prophet preaches. As Baëta has shown this ecstatic worship is also characteristic of the Spiritual Churches among whom the state of ecstasy is looked upon as the climax of religious experience. The Spiritual Churches actually believe that ecstatic worship makes possible the achievement of the human/divine contact and communication and reception of values. Exorcism, they believe, is connected to both and so they employ practically identical methods of inducing the desired state, that is, rhythmic and repetitious music with special forms of dancing. Like the Spiritual Churches a typical prophetic service is approached with a sense of liberty as worshippers fully participate with all their energies in a kind of prophetic ecstasy.

A significant feature about prophetic praise and worship is that they afford a participative opportunity for new seekers/visitors. In Hebrew to ‘prophesy’ strongly suggests “to prophesy ecstatically”, but ecstasy here is more than being overcome with an emotion so powerful that self-control or reason may be suspended. This is because in OT prophetism: “Ecstasy arises not from mere emotional rapture but from the Spirit (i.e. ruach) of Yahweh which falls on a person, takes control of the centre of the self, and makes him an instrument of the divine will…In such a prophetic state unusual things happened…”

In this Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism soul-inspiring, Spirit-provoking worship not only provides the matrix for interpreting prophetic ministration

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but it also unlocks the secret and mystery that lie behind the prophets’ powerful anointed operations. Through worship the prophets dethrone and debase Satan and enthrone the Son of God in his rightful position as the only sovereign of all cosmic powers, authorities, principalities, thrones, dominions and names. Thus through their worship they translate Pauline cosmological conception of the victorious reigning Christ from the cosmic reality into the physical reality of humanity. Given this backdrop it becomes quite disturbing to hear allegations of some gospel musicians’ employment of occultism for ministerial excellence and popularity.

We may have to excuse prophetic services of their ‘worldly’ ecstatic dances with the understanding that Israelite prophets transformed the ecstatic prophetism they borrowed from their neighbouring Canaanites to fit into their Yahwist worship. However, due to their lack of moderation prophetic worship services can be quite noisy which may underline the fragile relationship they tend to have with residents of the communities where they are located.

Unfortunately, these churches often tend to misconstrue the ‘offended’ communities’ reactions as demonic and sometimes spend time to pray against and bind these supposed ‘forces of darkness’.

Prophetism’s Media Theology According to V. Randall the communication media has a role in generating, facilitating and shaping the impact of religion in Third World politics.

Though his assessment bothers more on religio-political relationships it still offers some insight into the role of the media in Third World evangelisation.

Indeed, Asamoah-Gyadu has well observed that the news media play significant role in the ministries of neo-Pentecostal preachers.

Actually, the neo-Pentecostals were not the first to patronise the electronic media in their gospel dissemination. From the late 1970s to 1982 the Ghana Broadcasting Company-TV featured the American televangelist Oral Roberts every Sunday. The only difference is that neo-Pentecostals whose inspiration derives from American televangelists have learned to embrace “the techniques needed to propagate their message on a mass scale…” For them modern media technologies are evangelistic facilitators, weapons for spir-

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itual warfare and have “ontological relevance”.

Moreover, it is not only the Word of Faith or Deliverance strands of neoPentecostalism which are ‘exploiting’ the media to their fullest advantage. In fact, it seems that the prophets of the new ‘wave’ are beginning to take the lead in recent times. Notable among the radio stations are the Channel of Righteousness (Channel R), Peace FM, Adom FM and Sunny FM as well as many others in Accra. There are also television stations such as the Metro TV, TV 3, TV Africa and GTV all in Accra. But this phenomenon is not restrictive to Accra. As a matter of fact it cuts across the entire nation. The most current prophetic sensations are Prophets ‘Opambour’ Ebenezer Adarkwa-Yiadom (Prophet One), Daniel Obinim, Chief Mensah, Bishop TT, Akwasi Sarpong, Marfred Acheampong and Isaac Anto. Again, it is not even restricted to Pentecostals; AIC prophets take their fair share in this radio evangelisation.

A notable thing about the prophets is that more often than not they zealously ‘advertise’ themselves to would-be clients and this they achieve extensively through both the use of the electronic and print media. Walking through the streets and crannies of Accra, one cannot help but read posters that seek to advertise some ‘prophetic’ event that promises to offer ‘fast track’ solution to prospective clients’ problems. A recent poster had as its theme: “Come for Prophetic Direction”.

But the electronic media is the one area that stimulates more unwholesome attack from fellow Pentecostal preachers who interpret the prophets’ actions as a sure sign of self-aggrandisement. Perhaps we need to understand that normally many of these prophets have no social standing. It is just by ‘sheer luck’ that they have suddenly become public figures and since they least expected to attain this status they become euphoric, hence all the advertising and unnecessary trumpeting of their credentials.

As has been indicated earlier, their messages mostly concern overseas travel, childbearing, protection and deliverance from wicked people, wealth/prosperity and business success, health and neutralisation of witchcraft and evil manipulation. Consequently, many have chosen nicknames which they believe depict their ‘anointed’ ministries. I have already mentioned Prophet

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Opambour Ebenezer Adarkwa-Yiadom above. ‘Opambour’ literally means ‘mender of rocks’. By implication the prophet asserts that seekers’ problems are repairable so far as they go to him. Inherent in many prophetic claims is the fact that no problem is insurmountable. This reveals clearly in Rev. Seer Tony Asamoah Boateng’s nickname, Apae Live (literally, the yoke is broken live). So is the stress on the instantaneity, accuracy and precision of solutions to problems. We can see this in Prophet Eric Kwasi Amponsah’s accolade, ‘Computer Man’. Indeed, the list is inexhaustible.

What could underlie the lead of the prophets in the ‘media race’ is probably the fact that much of the money that goes into church ministry is now with them. They seem to be the current sensation in town with their ‘fast track’ solutions to clients’ quests and worries. In fact, they ‘fill in the gap’ and provide the ‘missing link’ seemingly left by the others with their telepathic and therapeutic knowledge and responses. Thus they attract all classes of people, many of whom have good standing in established churches.

Our argument that they are the current providers of the here-and-now solutions of the people is undergirded by the simple fact that despite their ‘theologically’ simple use of Scripture they still attract a great following. Their ritualistic practices have suffered lots of criticisms. Indeed, some ministers from the Pentecostal movement are the foremost critics of the prophets.

Maybe those ministers criticise out of several motives. These may not exclude envy and jealousy. The fact that the prophets are depriving them of their clients and in effect depleting their coffers of funds should be a great cause of worry. Or perhaps it is due to their desire to safeguard the unwary from falling prey to ‘wolfish sheep’ that they ‘zealously fight for the Lord’.

It is no understatement to say that Ghana’s new prophets fully utilise the current proliferation of the electronic media in the country to their advantage.

Together with the mainline CMs pastors they have become more or less the pacesetters in media communication of the Christian evangelion. In fact, Gifford accuses these churches/groups for their media-mania and their almost insensitivity to education and development projects. It is ironic they do not extend their ‘prophetic’ voice to national issues. In fact, one CM pastor, Rev. Steve Mensah of the Charismatic Evangelistic Ministries (CEM), Legon-Ac-

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cra, tied the media-mania of Ghanaian preachers, to their greed for popularity. He identified the Pentecostal church’s powerlessness as its insensitivity to the poor, desire for political recognition, love for money and prayerlessness.

According to him this craving or public image makes them connive with North American televangelists to fake miracles. He lambasted, “When our eyes shift from prayer to money we become charlatans [and] comedians…”

Prophetism and Gender Theology Ghanaian women have been known to stand side by side with their male counterparts in Christian ministry. For example, it was one of McKeown’s women, Afua Kuma, whose adoration of Jesus the Christ has provided the ingredient for grassroots theology, as the works of Kwame Bediako, a Ghanaian missiologists show. Again, women like Christiana Obo will not be forgotten in the annals of COP. This woman made personal sacrifices by offering her precious jewels for sale to provide financial support to Pastor McKeown’s ministry at its infant stages.

Actually, Mrs. Christiana Obo’s supportive role in McKeown’s ministry echoed Lucan account of women’s contribution in Jesus’ ministry (Luke 8:1-3).

Luke’s account shows how women like Mary of Magdala, Joanna and others supported Jesus’ ministry from their own financial and material resources.

These were women who had benefited from Jesus’ healing and deliverance ministry and had decided to follow and support him from their own resources. Their appreciation and recognition of the significance of Jesus’ ministry reached its climactic point when they visited his tomb-side on the resurrection morning. Significantly, this was when their men folks were hiding under tables (Luke 24: 1ff)! The supportive ministry of such women leaves a model for the corporate mission of the church.

With all probability it appears prophetism is one ministry that Ghanaian women seem to fully realise their Christian ministry. This was the situation in the days of the AICs and it is equally so today. Today, it is not uncommon to find women appearing on prophetic and evangelistic programmes of churches. Some are themselves prophetesses. For example, the poster of the Temple of Jerusalem Bible Ministry International presented ‘A 7-Day Con-

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suming Fire Revival’. Its hostess was Prophetess Mrs. Bernice Ohene, the General Overseer of the church. Underneath the poster was the statement: The Bible says where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (2 Cor. 3:17).

While it is not clear what this Spirit liberty implies it will not be incorrect to tie this to the liberation of women to participate in Christian mission per the prophetic ministry. After all a casual observation of the religious scene in Ghana will show that females form the greater bulk of participants at Pentecostal prophetic meetings.

The significant impact of women in Ghanaian Pentecostal prophetism comes out clearly in how the COP demonstrated its recognition of two of its ‘prophetess-healers’. During the church’s 36th General Council Meeting at the Pentecost University College, Sowutuom, in Accra (11_14 May, 2006) both Auntie Grace Mensah and Maame Sarah had citations read for them. Moreover, the church’s General Secretary, Apostle Alfred Koduah also presented gifts to them. Auntie Grace is the founder and prophetess of the Abura Edumfa Bethlehem Prayer Revival Centre while Maame Sarah is of the Goka Prayer Centre. What was clear in the citations was the church’s satisfaction of their humility, submission and availability to be used by God to bring salvation to many through their healing/prophetic ministries.

The problem is that although COP benefits immensely from the ministerial gifts of the women yet it does not have a place for them in its ordained ministry. No woman is called into COP’s ordained ministries of apostle, prophet, evangelist, and pastor/teacher. In fact, the highest a woman can attain in this church is a deaconess or/and a women’s leader of its Women’s Movement.

Even women founders and leaders of prayer centres are officially called deaconesses. When we consider that the church thrives greatly on both the spiritual and material support of the women then one is left to think that there is a high demand of ‘gender justice’ in its pastoral recruitment.

The presence of females in the current prophetic ministry of Ghanaian Pentecostalism resonates the somewhat gender ideology of the Sunsum Sorè. It provides a sign of hope and a recipe for African feminist agitation against the marginalisation of women in the sacramental ministry of the Christian church. For instance, Adekunle A. Alalade observes that any God-talk with-

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out women is incomplete for “without women there can be no gospel”. And this is why Louise Tappa identifies the Christological task as the working out of the full humanity of the reality of the Christ-event for humanity. She further argues that with the Christ-event there is a rupture in sexual barriers of all times. Thus modern Pentecostal prophets like their forebears, the AICs, set a stage for a liberating human wholeness.

Conclusion In this paper I have shown that prophetism has been part of Ghanaian Christianity appearing in various phases of the Ghanaian Pentecostal experience.

The current prophetism in Ghanaian Pentecostalism is not something totally new. Rather, it has an historical antecedent with the AIC prophetism. It is the fifth phase in the country’s Christian prophetism. Also the contemporary Pentecostal prophetism shares some, albeit subdued, resemblances with the AICs. We also noted the significant challenge the phenomenon poses to the gender imbalance in the church’s sacramental ministry. This new prophetism understands the importance of music and worship on one hand, and the media on the other, in the dissemination of the Christian gospel. Nonetheless, its use of these can sometimes be problematic and become a mixed-blessing to the church. This cannot be captured any better than Apostle Ntumy’s submission that the prophetic gift is a gift from God to the church. Yet like any other gift it can be used or abused.

Palestinian Contextual Theology: A Pentecostal Prospect?

Paul S. Baker In an earlier issue of this publication, Eric Newberg broached the topic of Israel-Palestine, tackling the question of peace in the Holy Land from the perspective of renewal studies, and highlighting in particular the suffering of the Palestinian people; an injustice which must be addressed by any truly Christian theology.1 In a similar vein, this paper will continue the Palestinian narrative, focusing on the response from Palestinian Christians whose collective voice is heard so clearly through the Kairos Palestine document.

This document presents us with a contextual theology, but raises issues which

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lie at the core of any Christian worldview. As such, we will furnish an overview of the document with discussion around the various theological themes raised therein. It is hoped that in then offering a critique of the traditional pentecostal approach to the topic, a consistent Christian response to the Palestinians’ plight will be developed – at least in broad outline – so as to inform a re-visioning of popular pentecostal attitudes toward Israel-Palestine.

Kairos Palestine Written in 2009, Kairos Palestine represents a recent, definitive response from Palestinian Christians to the occupation of their country by Israel, and expresses their “word to the world about what is happening in Palestine.”2 The document’s contributors include Christians from a range of traditions; having united in order to bring to light the reality of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, which has been the source of such “oppression, displacement, suffering and clear apartheid.” It is a call to Christians everywhere for their support “against injustice”, as it declares that “the military occupation of [Palestinian] land is a sin against God and humanity.”3 The document is largely inspired by the South African endeavour of the same name, which was prepared by black South African Christians during 1985 in response to the apartheid imposed upon their own people.4 It, too, was addressed to Christians, imploring them to challenge the acquiescence of the churches in South Africa to the state-sanctioned apartheid, which brought with it so much discrimination and brutality.5 It is the expressed hope of the Palestinian Christians that their own Kairos document will be similarly received, and equally effective. In following with the format of the South African document, Kairos Palestine is entitled A Moment of Truth. The word Kairos, of course, is Greek for ‘time’, but which carries a more nuanced meaning: perhaps better translated as ‘the appointed time’ or ‘opportune moment’.6 Thus, the title reflects the writers’ belief in the timeliness of their efforts.

Kairos Palestine makes the bold assertion that “any theology that legitimizes the [Israeli] occupation is far from Christian teachings because true Christian theology is a theology of love and solidarity with the oppressed, a call to jus-

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tice and equality among peoples.”7 This is evidently a criticism of Christian Zionism, which we will explore in further detail later on, particularly as we offer a critique of traditional Pentecostalism’s appropriation of fundamentalist approaches to scriptural prophecy.

There is also a very clear political tone to the document, especially insofar as it asserts the “right and duty [of] all Palestinians” to engage in resistance; and this overtone is particularly obvious where attempts to influence policy through “political leaders and decision-makers” are discussed.8 We will evaluate the interplay of theology and politics further on, as we enter into a discussion of liberation theology and explore its potential for the pentecostal approach, and where we will examine the Palestinian Christians’ claim that “liberation from occupation is in the interest of all peoples in the region because the problem is not just a political one, but one in which human beings are destroyed.”9

The Palestinian Predicament The Kairos document begins by conveying “the reality on the ground”, through which the Palestinians’ suffering at the hands of Israel is described.10 Confiscation of land, including vital resources, and discrimination of those Palestinians residing within Israel, are amongst the hardships outlined. And yet the Palestinian Christians proclaim that their “Christian word in the midst of all this, in the midst of our catastrophe, is a word of faith, hope and love.”11 It is a word of faith because, as the document notes, “we [the Palestinian Christians] believe in a good and just God.”12 Here, the Word of God is appealed to which, importantly, is identified as the Son: Jesus Christ. This unique understanding is at the centre of the Christian faith, and it is by such that we are able to see Jesus as the culmination of God’s promises to His people, beginning with the law and prophets of the Old Testament.

This Christology reveals Jesus’ role in fulfilling the Hebrew Scriptures, and the writers of Kairos Palestine recognize this accomplishment as having “provoked a revolution in the life and faith of all humanity…casting a new light on the Old Testament, on the themes that relate to our Christian faith and our daily lives.”13 Many, however, speak of the ‘word of God’ more generally

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in reference to scripture: the Bible.14 Has such an understanding had the effect of bestowing an authority upon the text which is in fact due only to Christ?

In giving pride of place to the written word in scripture, the central importance of the incarnate Word, Jesus Christ, can tend to be de-emphasized.

This is of deep concern, particularly when we consider the Old Testament, because it may result in the text being read and acted upon without reference to Christ. Where prophecy is concerned, this affects an understanding of God’s involvement in history whereby eschatological events are divorced from Christ’s salvific work.

It is along these lines that the Kairos document offers a criticism of “fundamentalist Biblical interpretation” which insists upon a literal reading of scripture. Such a hermeneutic, the Kairos document asserts, results in “death and destruction when the word of God is petrified and transmitted from generation to generation as a dead letter.”15 It is this ‘dead letter’ that is promoted by those of the Jewish faith and their Christian supporters – including many pentecostals – who read it as divine sanctioning of the Israeli claim to their ‘Promised Land’. It would be appropriate here to take a departure into a deeper discussion of Zionism and, in particular, its support from Christian quarters.

Zionism ‘Zionism’ has, in recent times, become an increasingly elusive term, and one which has such wide and varied usage that, in Sidney Schwarz’s view, is has become “a term without meaning.”16 Broadly speaking, however, Zionism describes the aspiration of the Jewish people to a homeland. But there is a religious element inherent to this idea, for ‘Zion’ alludes to the Promised Land of the Hebrew Scriptures, which has been the object of Jewish hope from time immemorial; particularly since the Diaspora up until the modern period. The establishment of the state of Israel in 1948 in many ways marks the realization of this hope, as it forms the basis for a Jewish national identity, founded upon the land which means so much in their tradition.17 Perhaps the most notable contributor to Kairos Palestine is Naim S. Ateek, who leads the Sabeel Ecumenical Liberation Theology Centre, and has played

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an integral part in the development of the document.18 He has written extensively on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and has given particular attention to Christian Zionism, which he regards as clear heresy.19 In offering a definition, Ateek draws on Don Wagner, who describes Christian Zionism as “a movement within Protestant fundamentalism that understands the modern state of Israel as the fulfilment of biblical prophecy and thus deserving of political, financial, and religious support.”20 Christian Zionism, then, supports the Jewish claim to their traditional homeland on apparently ‘Christian’ grounds. Ateek notes the inherent contradiction in the term ‘Christian Zionism’ however, asking, “How can one believe in Jesus Christ and his message of peace and non-violence and at the same time believe in a Zionist ideology based on violence and terrorism that robs the Palestinians of their land and negates their political rights?”21 He outlines the basic tenets of Christian Zionism which, importantly, include the belief that the Jewish people are specially chosen by God, and that the land of Israel is their exclusive, eternal inheritance to which they must return in order to fulfil biblical prophecy. Pentecostalism has, it should be noted, by and large appropriated this view.22 The ensuing tendency, although perhaps not conscious, has been to affirm the state of Israel’s Zionist pursuits, and even to condone all and any of their actions to this purpose, as necessary means to a prophesied end.23 The Kairos document makes abundantly clear that Palestinian Christians view such a theological basis for support of Israel’s action as erroneous, declaring that “any use of the Bible to legitimize or support political options and positions that are based upon injustice, imposed by one person on another, or by one people on another, transform religion into human ideology and strip the Word of God of its holiness, its universality and truth.”24 In short, Christianity is an inclusive faith, but a theology which supports Israeli occupation of Palestinian land is only ever exclusive, and in favour of the aggressor who asserts their claim by force. In Stephen Sizer’s words, “Christian Zionism is an exclusive theology that focuses on the Jews in the land rather than Jesus Christ the Saviour of the world.”25 Thus, the occupation is perceived to be “a sin against God and humanity”; and understandably so.

It is notable that the Palestinian Christians also recognize the importance of the land to those who inhabit it, “resonant with the connectedness of any

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other people to the land it lives in.” It should be pointed out, however, that this is a socio-cultural statement rather than a theological one; rooted as it is in “history and geography.”26 As the Kairos document asserts, “the promise of the land has never been a political programme, but rather the prelude to complete universal salvation.” So, whereas the land was of central importance to the people of Israel in Old Testament times – and so also to Judaism in our own time – since Jesus’ issuing in of the new covenant, we realize that it was merely “the initiation of the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God on earth.”27 Although God’s promise began with this land, it will continue far beyond it.

N. T. Wright has described the central importance of land in the Jewish expectation for a Messiah, who would achieve the restoration of Israel from exile.28 He sees Jesus’ understanding of his own life as inaugurating this renewal, though on radically different terms: “Jesus warned his contemporaries that when the kingdom of God arrived it would be a doubly revolutionary event. Yes, it would overturn all the power structures of the world; but it would also overturn all the expectations about how that would happen. […]

He was calling his hearers, quite simply, to a new way of being Israel, a new way of being God’s people for the world.”29 Rather than Israel’s renewal being accomplished by national conquest, the coming kingdom – heralded as it was by Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection – is to be one founded through forgiveness. Indeed, as Wright observes, “Jesus believed that Israel’s whole destiny, to be the people of God for the world, to be God’s way of saving the world, was reaching its climax; and that his life, and ultimately his death, were to be the means of bringing that about.”30 Here we see a crucial divergence between Judaism’s pre-Christic soteriology – which was tied to the people’s settlement in the land – and the Christian eschatological kingdom, which can be understood to have already been inaugurated through Christ, and yet to be fully consummated in the hoped-for future. It is to a discussion of Christian hope which we will now turn.

Christian Hope Having expounded the basis of the Palestinian Christians’ faith, the Kairos document turns to a description of their hope, which, “despite the lack of even a glimmer of positive expectation…remains strong.”31 Indeed, all human at-

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tempts at a solution to the conflict, though numerous, have come to naught; and yet hope remains because it is founded “in God.” Hope is described as faith in God, with the concomitant expectation for a better future. It is “the capacity to see God in the midst of trouble”, and from this vision is derived “the strength to be steadfast, remain firm and work to change the reality.”32 In discussing Jürgen Moltmann’s important contribution to an understanding of Christian hope, Richard Bauckham notes that “Moltmann’s turn to the cross brought with it the requirement of a political praxis of solidarity with the victims, which deepens the praxis of hope.”33 It is important to note, then, that the outworking of hope is active rather than passive. It is founded solely upon God, but also depends on the conscious effort of His people. It is in this way that the Palestinian Christians see themselves as “co-workers with the Holy Spirit who is dwelling in [them].”34 This effort is expressed collectively through the Church, which serves to guide the wider community toward their goal of peace. In this way, the mission of the Church – as the Kairos document asserts – is “prophetic, bearing the voice of God in the present and future.” This voice is raised against injustice, and speaks “the Word of God courageously, honestly and lovingly.”35 Interestingly, Kairos Palestine suggests that “if [the Church] does take sides, it is with the oppressed, to stand alongside them, just as Christ our Lord stood by the side of each poor person.”36 Does this hint at a theologically-based plea for support of the Palestinian political agenda? Perhaps this is a disingenuous reading of the statement in question, as there is no doubt that the Palestinians have suffered greatly under Israeli occupation; and yet one cannot help but wonder if the Palestinian Christians are perhaps invoking the same theological justification of which they accuse the Israelis of appealing to in their Zionist pursuits. However, in discussing the Kingdom of God, the document takes on an eschatological air, and points to “a kingdom of justice, peace and dignity” which, importantly, “cannot be tied to any earthly kingdom.”37 This dichotomy between earthly and heavenly kingdoms raises some important questions, for there is a very real sense in which the kingdom of God must have implications for the here-and-now. Is it not unavoidable that Jesus’ work will have repercussions for our day-to-day life, and so find expression

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in every sphere through which Christians find themselves operating? We are forced, then, to decide what salvation means in social, cultural, and political contexts; and to ask what role we as Christians play in bringing Christ’s salvific work to bear upon them. Herein perhaps lies the central challenge to Christian life: if we are to be Christ to the world, are we to follow Jesus’ lead as exemplified by his earthly ministry, or to take on a more Spirit-inspired praxis of “greater works”?38 We will tackle this question further on, as we consider the pentecostal paradigm, and explore the unique approach to this issue offered therein.

In the Palestinian context, then, what is the Christian response to oppression by those who are suffering? We might well consider Jesus’ own response to foreign occupation: that of the Romans in 1st century Palestine. Did he advocate any form of resistance? The Palestinian Christians would suggest that he did, though it is not clear where in his life they recognize this as occurring.39 Indeed, Christ’s earthly ministry again reminds us of the divergence of Jewish and Christian views. As we have seen, the Jewish expectation of the Messiah was for a political saviour; a king who would restore the people of Israel to their land.40 The fact that he didn’t achieve this largely explains why Jesus was rejected by his own people.

As Christians, then, to accept Jesus as the Christ means also to reject the Jewish vision of the political Messiah, who would conquer by force. But to speak of a ‘kingdom’ at all is to recognize the involvement of some form of governance, and therefore politics. Thus, there is a definite political dimension to Christ’s kingdom, however unfamiliar a form it may take. If Christ’s salvific work is to be brought to bear upon every facet of human life, then a Christian response to the politics of the day is demanded.41 The question, then, is not ‘if’ but ‘how’ the political is to be outworked in Christian life. But should such response in itself constitute ‘political’ action? We will now explore the political dimension of Christian hope as it is outworked in the Palestinian context, as we engage in a discussion of liberation theology.

Liberation Theology

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Rebecca Chopp and Ethna Regan describe liberation theology (though in the context of Latin America) as “a reflection on God’s activity and transforming grace among those who are the victims of modern history.”42 Important to note is that, in their view, liberation theology is not “an interpretation, a second-level reflection on common human experience” but rather, “an interruption, an irruption of how God is active, life is lived, and Christianity is practiced among the poor.”43 They recognize the importance of Vatican II in the development of liberation theology, as the council served to establish Catholic social teaching, which concerns itself with human dignity under a broader understanding of justice and peace.44 Of particular relevance to our discussion is political theology, developed by such theologians as Johann Baptist Metz and Moltmann, who we have already mentioned. The former, according to Chopp and Regan, “offered a new anthropology that was social and political” whilst the latter “constructed an understanding of God in and through the reality of suffering.”45 It should be noted that political theology informs, or contributes to, liberation theology; and so they are not to be understood as being synonymous. Thus, we cannot reasonably charge liberation theology with being a “politicization” of theology;46 although there are, no doubt, certain groups which appear to do just this – but which might be better understood as political movements, attempting to justify themselves theologically. It is in this vein that Bauckham qualifies Moltmann’s political theology, observing that he “has never reduced the gospel to its political aspect, but he has consistently emphasized it.”47 He sees Moltmann’s “explicitly political theology” describing “a politically critical theology aiming at radical change in society.”48 What is perhaps one of the most controversial tenets of liberation theology, as we have already alluded to, is the assertion that God ‘takes sides’ with the poor. As Gustavo Gutiérrez claims, “the love of God is a gratuitous gift”, and that by “Loving by preference the poor… God reveals that gratuity. And by consequence as followers of Jesus Christ, we must also do this preferential option for the poor.”49 The writers of the Kairos document would seem to concur with this view; indeed, this understanding is prevalent amongst most liberation theologies, despite the fact that many believe it constitutes “a re-

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reading of the historical Jesus (contending that Jesus was on the side of the oppressed).”50 Besides those who would “dismiss liberation theology as inadequate theological reflection”, or “a form of politics using religion”,51 there are several other concerns which it would be appropriate to discuss here. As Chopp and Regan note, “the debate has been centred in three broad areas: liberation theology’s equation of liberation and redemption, its turn to the political as the primary locus of human life, and its theoretical arguments in relation to ethics and social theory.”52 It is the first of these three which is pertinent to our discussion, as the equation of redemption and liberation “tempts a kind of temporal messianism, a heralding of the reign of God on the side of one political cause.”53 Schubert Ogden, for example, has criticized liberation theologians for equating redemption and emancipation.54 The problem with views such as these is that they lead to an ideal which in turn tends toward totalitarianism: the oppressive political propensity which much of liberation theology is in reaction against. “It is also considered unbiblical, as it seems to place God on the side of the poor, in opposition to the rich.”55 Gutiérrez offers an important qualification of the relationship between liberation and redemption. He notes that the ‘siding’ with the poor is “a statement [of] God’s gratuitousness and not a romanticization of the poor.”56 Bauckham also differentiates between a “romantic vision of revolution or of confusion with the ideological optimism of the affluent” with a “real solidarity with the victims of society… rooted in their actual interests.”57 Whilst we have argued that liberation theology has not “reduced human life to the political realm”,58 it is important to note that we have pre-supposed a distinction which is perhaps not necessary, and may in fact be quite unhelpful. This consciousness of separate ‘political’ and ‘religious’ realms, if suspended, opens our minds to the idea that, in fact, “politics is intrinsic to the definition of the human subject, not merely a secondary expression.”59 Indeed, as Chopp and Regan note, “liberation theologians hold a broad understanding of the political as the basis of life”, so that “politics is not simply concerned with the managing of the state, but also with how our lives are organized and expressed and how we fulfil our subjectivity.” Thus, “the gospel… is not political in offering a particular theory of political management,

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but is political in terms of its promise and demand for the fulfilment of human life.”60 We will engage this broader understanding of the political further on, as we discuss the pentecostal approach.

Palestinian Liberation and the ‘Logic of Love’ Samuel J. Kuruvilla makes an important comparison between the liberation theologies of Latin America and Palestine, noting a number of differences which mean that “liberation theology cannot simply be transposed from one situation to another.”61 For instance, in Latin America, most of the poor are Christian; whereas in Palestine, Christians represent a very small minority – only 2% of the population.62 In Latin America, the question relates to class; whilst in Palestine, all Palestinians are oppressed. Kuruvilla also notes that Leonardo Boff’s “Exodus paradigm” does not apply to the Palestinians.63 This, in terms of Latin American and other contexts, was how “the poor were seen as engaged on a journey from slavery to freedom, escaping the bondage of class and debt.”64 The Palestinians instead find themselves as the dispossessed people.

So how is Palestinian liberation theology practically outworked? In a discussion of love, Kairos Palestine cites Jesus, as well as saints Paul and Peter, in relation to how Christians are to treat their enemies. Though we are not to “repay anyone evil for evil”,65 and are in fact to “repay with a blessing”,66 the document makes certain to defend the concept of resistance, and indeed takes the necessity for resistance as a foregone conclusion; but the authors apply love to such action. Bauckham observes that, for Moltmann, the idea of human rights is rooted in the fact that we are in some sense created in the image of God; and this imbues humanity with an undeniable dignity.67 For the Palestinian Christians, too, “love is seeing the face of God in every human being”, though this does not entail “accepting evil or aggression on their part.”68 The Palestinian Christians’ resistance seeks, then, through love, “to correct the evil and stop the aggression.” Resistance is the responsibility firstly of the Palestinians, but also of the international community. The Kairos document asserts that “resistance is a right and a duty for the Christian”, but is careful to stress that this is not to employ violence as a means; rather it has “love as

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its logic.”69 Here we can recognize an unashamed liberation theology, but one which is carefully conscious of Christ’s example. As Kuruvilla observes, “in this situation of conflict, their emphasis is on peace and reconciliation, although they recognise the importance of the struggle to be free. For them, non-violence and dialogue are the way to liberation.”70 In concluding, the Kairos document offers a plea to Christians; a call to solidarity with those who are experiencing hardship: “if my brother is a prisoner I am a prisoner; if his home is destroyed, my home is destroyed; when my brother is killed, then I too am killed.” This requires repentance, away from “silence, indifference, lack of communion… [and] concern with our institutions”; which all serve to detract from, or ignore, the Christian mission. 71 An appeal is also given to the “religious and spiritual leaders” of Judaism and Islam to “together try to rise up above the political positions”; this, on the basis that those of both religions “share the same vision that every human being is created by God and has been given equal dignity.”72 On the foundation of this understanding, the document calls upon the Palestinian and Israeli people “to see the face of God in each of God’s creatures”, and so to “overcome the barriers of fear or race in order to establish a constructive dialogue” which will lead to a resolution of the seemingly endless conflict. Kairos Palestine also cautions against “a religious state”, that necessarily “practices discrimination and exclusion, preferring one citizen over another.” Such divisions, it is observed, “weaken all of us and cause more suffering.” In this vein, Jerusalem is heralded as “the foundation of our vision and entire life.” Of note is that “the city is inhabited by two peoples of three religions.” This, it is asserted, is a “prophetic vision” upon which “any political solution must be based.” For the Palestinian Christians, the centrality of Jerusalem to the lives of all concerned parties means that it can be “a source of inspiration towards finding a solution to the entire problem.”73 Imam A. Rashied Omar sees these ecumenical efforts, as well as the interfaith dialogue which contribute to this end, as a particular strength of the Kairos initiative. He notes the effect it had in the South African context, where it “galvanized all faith communities and strengthened the broader liberation movement.” Kairos Palestine may well indeed be recognized as “a watershed moment in the history of the Palestinian struggle.”74 For in all of this, the

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Palestinian Christians stand on their belief in “God, good and just”, and hold to the hope that “God’s justice will finally triumph over the evil of hate and of death that still persist.” It is their vision to see “‘a new land’ and ‘a new human being’, capable of rising up in the spirit to love each one of his or her brothers and sisters.”75 The Pentecostal Position It is at this juncture that a more in-depth consideration of the pentecostal orientation would be appropriate, for it is the Spirit’s function in the life of believers that holds special significance for pentecostals. At the heart of Pentecostalism is the conviction that the Holy Spirit has empowered us to participate in the ushering in of God’s kingdom, through our witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ.76 Pentecostal Christianity is therefore understood to be consciously Spirit-inspired; in thought, word, and deed. If, as we have suggested, Christian praxis cannot help but be expressed politically at some level and in some form, we must then consider what a pentecostal political response might look like, and how such a response is to be outworked in our approach to the Israel-Palestine situation.

Amos Yong’s In the Days of Caesar presents a thorough-going dialogue between Pentecostalism and political theology. Adopting the wider definition of politics, which we have introduced above, Yong notes three broad categories describing the interface of pentecostals with politics: “apolitical”, “political”, and “alternatively political”. He sees Pentecostalism as traditionally assuming an apolitical posture which, he posits, has often been a result of our appropriation of the dispensationalist perspective. Christ’s claim that “my kingdom is not of this world” is then taken to describe a necessary separation between what is ‘of God’ and what is ‘of the world’; forcing a dichotomy which decisively places ministry over politics.77 To put it perhaps a little simplistically: history is ultimately shaped by God, thus negating any need of our involvement. However, Yong hints that it is in fact not possible to be entirely detached from politics, since “pentecostal apolitical rhetoric actually serves as a prophetic critique of the existing political order” so that, consciously or not, “pentecostal ecclesial practices function performatively to engage the domain of the political.”78 Elsewhere, Pentecostalism has engaged politics

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without any apparent reservations. Particularly in the global south, pentecostals have consciously pursued political influence, and in fact understand such involvement in politics as constitutive of Christian mission. Alternative politics, in an entirely different vein, transcends this intuitive choice (of either engaging politics, or not) and offers instead a “prophetic politics… [which] is manifest in the kinds of counter-cultural and counter-conventional communities shaped by pentecostal spirituality and piety.”79 Thus, Pentecostalism is able to remain “discursively and rhetorically non-political”, in such a way as to be “structurally and practically counter-political”.80 Indeed Pentecostalism, Yong argues, “invites not one but many forms of political, economic, and social postures and practices.”81 His concern is to discover whether this fact is incidental, or integral to the movement: whether it is simply descriptive of Pentecostalism, or if there are legitimate theological reasons for promoting such a nuanced stance. In keeping with the theme set out in his previous work, Yong see the many tongues of Pentecost as framing Pentecostalism’s involvement in the world.82 Thus, he describes our interaction with the political in terms of “many tongues and many political practices,” recognizing that our engagement with the public sphere occurs through several and varied expressions.83 In the same way that the Spirit enabled the apostles to speak in different languages on the Day of Pentecost, so that the gospel could be received by everyone present, so too does the Spirit work through a multitude of political expressions toward the same end.

Yong develops this thesis alongside an explication of the five-fold gospel – the “theological heart” of Pentecostalism – which centres round Christ as saviour, sanctifier, Spirit baptizer, healer, and coming King.84 His method is to deal with each ‘thread’ of this paradigm in turn, whilst fielding dialogue between pertinent political themes and related theological developments; and so to develop a political theology informed by, as well as informing, pentecostal perspectives.

In this five-fold framework, Jesus as saviour speaks to the deliverance from powers, and Yong recognizes the political dimension of such; Jesus as sanctifier prompts a discussion around the theology of culture, and the redeemability of human institutions; Jesus as Spirit-baptizer suggests a prophetic action within society; Jesus as healer opens up a theology of economics; and

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Jesus as coming king sparks debate around Christian hope, and the development of a political theology of history and the eschaton. Importantly, Yong recognizes this five-fold framework as soteriological in nature. Although in its formulation it can be understood as primarily Christological, pneumatological, eschatological, and so on, the underlying theme is inherently salvific.

For example, Yong observes that the pentecostal doctrine of Spirit baptism serves a wider missiological – and therefore soteriological – purpose.85 The centrality of this theme is crucial, because it reveals the pervasiveness of soteriology in and through the pentecostal worldview. In the context of our present discussion this means that the gospel – as we have already indicated – has salvific implications in every sphere of human society; there is an “incontrovertible this-worldliness to pentecostal spirituality that is focused on the present redemption of human life in all of its domains.”86 And this, of course, includes politics.

Particularly pertinent to our discussion is the fifth and final thread: Jesus as coming king. Here, Yong develops what he terms an “eschatological theology of the political”, which culminate the previous four elements, and whereby he makes a number of important conclusions.87 Firstly, the dispensationalist tendencies visible within Pentecostalism are not consistent with pentecostal commitments as a whole. For, “the apocalyptic insistence on the obliteration of the world in the end is not only incompatible with a theology of a new heavens and a new earth, rightly understood… it also undermines central pentecostal convictions about the theological value of the body, the materiality of the human condition, and the social dimensions of salvation.”88 Secondly, Yong asserts, Jesus as coming king should prompt us to reconsider our eschatology in pneumatological terms: given the ‘this-worldly’ dimension to pentecostal spirituality demands a recasting of priorities in this area. Such pneumatological interpretation opens up, thirdly, an eschatological politics of hope. Thus, Yong highlights the performative nature of eschatology.89 A significant contribution here is Yong’s suggestion that legitimate eschatology must involve not only time, but also space. He notes the application of the term eschatou tes ges – describing the Spirit’s empowering of mission to the ends of the earth, and the initiation of “salvation to the ends of the earth” in Acts 1:8 and 13:47, respectively – which suggests that the eschatological element inherent to salvation is not limited to some far-off event in the future,

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but present here, insofar as salvation has been, and is being, outworked over the earth.90 Pentecostal political theology, then, can be understood as the outworking of pentecostal eschatology; which is itself an aspect of soteriology.

In broad terms, it involves “modelling a viable and alternative form of life in the footsteps of the Messiah, as empowered by the Holy Spirit.”91 The Pentecostal Prospect We now turn to the question of what the pentecostal approach to the political contributes to a truly Christian response in Israel-Palestine: what does this “alternative form of life” entail for Christian praxis in the Palestinian context? Here is a central concern of any contextual theology which, by necessity, holds two elements in dialectical tension: one’s context, and one’s theology. On the one hand is an inescapable sitz im leben; the setting in which life is lived, and which provokes a response, as well as informing such response from out of one’s cultural traditions. On the other hand is our knowledge of God, and a faith by which life is ordered in accordance with what we understand as an appropriate, resultant praxis. Pentecostalism is perhaps uniquely suited to dialogue with contextual approaches because it is largely born out of an experiential worldview, with an inherent recognition that theology – and therefore Christian praxis – is always, already contextual.

Such dialogue, then, stimulates an inter-contextual dynamic; for consideration of the Palestinian context also reveals an area within Pentecostalism which, as we have seen, requires serious revision: eschatology – particularly as this relates to politics. Furthermore, in the subsequent development of an approach to politics which is truly resonant with central pentecostal commitments, a number of points are raised which also speak back to the Palestinian context. This dialogical relationship presents something of a hermeneutical circle – as one informs the other, which in turn then speaks back to the former – which is so crucial to an authentic contextual theology. The question of the pentecostal prospect is thus two-fold: what can pentecostals hope to learn from the Palestinian Christians’ consciously-lived theology, and what does Pentecostalism’s unique approach offer the Palestinian context?

The Palestinian Christians’ adoption of liberation theology in their reaction to the Israeli occupation of their land constitutes a contextual theology which

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consciously seeks an application of Christ’s salvific work within their situation. Such a response challenges the traditional pentecostal dispensationalist paradigm, in that it reveals the theo-political nature of Zionism. Apolitical dispensationalism would, no doubt, readily acknowledge the theological element of Zionism, but may have difficulty in accepting the political dimension inherent to the idea. However, in illustrating the unavoidability of the political in human existence, Palestinian contextual theology – in necessarily overcoming any aversion to politics – prompts a re-evaluation of Pentecostalism’s acceptance of Zionism, as the deeply concerning ramifications of such a ‘theology’ are revealed. Indeed, the theological aspect assumed by dispensationalist pentecostals is rendered illegitimate in light of the Palestinian’s plight. Though aware of the terrible injustices suffered by the Palestinians, dispensationalist pentecostals seem to have taken solace in the fact that these events are all in the interest of prophecy’s fulfilment, and an attitude that is willing to ‘let the end-times roll’ has then been adopted; resulting in a sociopolitical quietism that goes against not only a truly Christian approach, but also betrays an integral belief in the work of the Holy Spirit in the world. To put it succinctly, on this issue pentecostal pneumatology and has failed to inform our eschatology; which has then in turn undone any authentic soteriology, thus negating the Spirit-led praxis that is so essential to pentecostal identity. The theological bankruptcy of Zionism (at least as it has been appropriated by dispensationalist-leaning pentecostals) prompts two important concessions: Israel’s occupation of Palestinian land cannot be justified on Christian grounds; and a legitimate Christian response to this injustice must include action along theologically-informed political lines.

In acknowledging the need for political response, however, we must be cautious not to embrace all and any politics unquestioningly. For to speak of political theology is not to describe Christianity itself as a political alignment; nor is it to convey the idea that a political option, since it is practiced by Christians, somehow ‘Christianizes’ that option. To draw an analogy from Yong’s “many tongues, many political practices” framework, individual languages are not deemed to be either ‘of God’ or not. Indeed, God’s purposes can be achieved through “many tongues”, as the Day of Pentecost narrative attests to. So it is with political practices. To discount a particular political orientation in its entirety is akin to claiming that the gospel cannot be preached in,

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say, Spanish; just as to insist upon a particular political approach is analogous to contending that the gospel must only be preached in Greek. But again, this is not to baptize all and any political options, and so slide into relativism: there are obviously elements to any human endeavour (speech or action) that present a hindrance to God’s purposes. What is important here, however, is that the gospel – in transcending political options – can be brought to bear upon any of them. To revert again to our linguistic analogy, though the divine truth of the gospel is beyond words, yet we must use language to convey it. It is, then, a matter of finding the right words in any language, and so the right practice in any political context. The question then becomes, which political ‘tongue’ is appropriate to this particular situation? Thus, liberation theology must not be uncritically embraced. Its political dimension must be explored and critiqued, just as the Palestinians themselves have examined Zionism’s political characteristics.

Despite all effort to the contrary, liberation theology remains a political response which by and large makes use of – and is therefore in a sense, subordinated to – the existing politics of the day. Indeed, liberation theology might even be understood as more socialist than Christian, in that it seems to assume the zero-sum economic theories of Marxist tradition; whereby one’s position is better or worse in correlation to the ‘other’. On this understanding, prosperity comes at the expense of the other; and so also is one’s own poverty inevitable if the other is to prosper. The ensuing ‘class struggle’ epitomizes this notion, and can be observed in much of liberation theology’s application, whereby local Christians take sides with the poor in their efforts to dethrone the wealthy; presumably with the aim of distributing wealth ‘fairly’.92 It is questionable, however, whether any truly equitable arrangement can be reached in reality, whilst one group is favoured over and against another. This same danger lurks in the context of Israel-Palestine, where the Jews have largely been favoured over and against the Palestinians. Perhaps the most obvious indicator of this can be seen in the land that has been claimed by Israel over the years, at the Palestinians’ expense. But as the Palestinians then find themselves with less and less, and so become the poor, we witness a role reversal; one which – on the terms of an uncritically-appropriated liberation theology – might be accompanied by a change in allegiance, whereby Palestinians then become favoured over and against the Jews.

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Indeed, the problem with liberation theology’s tendency to equate liberation with redemption is that this is essentially to repeat the Zionist fallacy, and see God’s salvation enacted in one’s success at the price of another’s failure; whether this is in the form of Israel’s conquest of land, or sought in assigning priority to the dispossessed Palestinians. If we are to reject Zionism, and so reframe the idea of the Jewish political Messiah, we must also reframe this tenet of liberation theology. A legitimate theology, in recognising the universal nature of Christ’s salvific work, will not assume such favouritism in aid of one group, or political cause, over and against another; and it is therefore not simply a matter of siding with the Palestinians. What is needed is a theology of politics born out of a holistic soteriology, which dissolves any simplistic dichotomies. The “many tongues, many political practices” paradigm, as an expression of the pentecostal five-fold gospel, presents such a possibility which includes, but is not limited to – or by – the political. Here is a framework which preserves pentecostal commitments, whilst positively engaging the political world through Christological praxis.

However, in our attempts to follow in Christ’s footsteps, it should be recognized that Jesus’ engagement with the political is also to be understood as a result of his empowerment by the Spirit. Importantly, such engagement was directed – by the Spirit – in a style appropriate to the time and culture. To follow in Christ’s footsteps, then, does not mean to respond to the politics of our time in an identical fashion. Our drastically different context should signal caution. Indeed, to follow Jesus is not to simply ‘do what Jesus did’, but rather to ‘be as Jesus was’ (and is); that is, living life in constant communion with the Spirit, even whilst engaging the world – in every sphere. Such a pentecostal prospect for a reframing of Christological praxis leads us to consider the ontological heart of Pentecostalism, and to the development of what might be termed an ‘onto-pneumatological’ approach. This terminology emphasizes the pentecostal self-understanding as ‘being-in-the-Spirit’; affirming the Spirit as our starting point, for it is at the heart our very identity. Far from being merely functional in and through the life of the believer, the Spirit becomes the ontological impetus of our very existence. All else then flows from this, and so inspires our context-based response in, and to, the world.

To apply this general idea to a particular case, we might consider the Palestin-

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ian ‘logic of love’, employed in their resistance to Israel’s injustices. What enables such love? Christ’s example would at once seem the obvious source, but recognition of Christ’s love is not the same as practicing such love: to know is not necessarily to do. Delving deeper than a surface understanding, we might propose that this love begins in onto-pneumatological praxis: that is, how we love (practically) is informed by the Spirit’s central presence in our lives – and so is outworked in every sphere: political, social, and so on.

It should be noted that such a formulation is not to de-emphasize Christ’s example, but rather to understand what lies at the centre of his example: Spiritempowerment. This marks the difference between promoting Christian ideas or doing Christian things, and being Christian – that is, Christ-like – at the most foundational, ontological level. Love, then, is more than the choice not to hate, or not to repay evil for evil. It is even more than seeing God’s face in the face of the other.93 Indeed, it is quite beyond any ‘logic’, as the Kairos Palestine authors suggest. So whereas the Palestinian contextual theology of liberation is careful to apply love in their resistance, a specifically pentecostal onto-pneumatological approach is more concerned with seeing the underlying creative stimulus of the Spirit allowed to work; which will, necessarily, embody this sought-after exemplification of Christian love at its most authentic.

Conclusion Through Kairos Palestine we see the Palestinian Christians’ response to a political issue, but one which is predicated theologically, insofar as Zionism is concerned. Such response is therefore also grounded on theology, but consciously expressed politically. Whilst pentecostals have traditionally assumed an apolitical posture toward matters of state and nation, we have seen how such a separation of ‘worldly’ and ‘Godly’ domains is to undermine the very heart of the Christian message, and relegates faith to esoteric abstraction, whilst failing to properly address the question of Christian praxis. On the contrary, a self-consistent understanding of Christ’s salvific work plays out in every arena of human life. In the Palestinian context this fact is realized through the appropriation of liberation theology, whereby freedom from Israeli oppression is pursued as just one expression of Christian faith in action.

However, liberation theology – it could be argued – is not so much founded

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upon faith in God, as it is upon human political activism (though, admittedly, invoking recourse to God). Although not to be understood primarily as political activism, liberation theology unavoidably tends toward emphasizing human effort in the struggle against injustice. The ensuing political action, it should be noted, is not necessarily in and of itself inappropriate; as the “many tongues, many political practices” paradigm affirms. An intrinsically Christian response, however, should be founded first and foremost upon Christ, with any resultant political action constituting legitimately Christian praxis.

The eschatological politics of hope that Yong posits as the backbone of a pentecostal response recognizes the priority of the Spirit in working for a future of justice and peace. We are left, then, with the task of practically outworking our faith in politically-oriented situations: prophetically embodying Christological praxis as is appropriate within a given context.

In the pentecostal approach, such action takes on a uniquely onto-pneumatological dimension, as we have intimated. On this view, the word of “faith, hope and love” advocated by Kairos Palestine can only truly be Christian insofar as it is practically outworked through empowerment by the Holy Spirit. For this is the same Spirit who birthed and empowered Jesus’ earthly ministry; the same Spirit who rose him from the dead; and the same Spirit who now inhabits Christ’s followers, involving us in the continuation of his mission today.

(Endnotes) 1 Eric N. Newberg, “Pentecostals and Peace in Palestine/Israel,” Australasian Pentecostal Studies 13 (2010): 41-58.

2 “A Moment of Truth: A Word of Faith, Hope, and Love from the Heart of Palestinian Suffering,” Kairos Palestine, accessed January, 2012, http://www.kairospalestine.ps/ sites/default/Documents/English.pdf, 3.

3 Ibid.

4 See Samuel J. Kuruvilla, “The Invention of History: A Century of Interplay between Theology and Politics in Palestine,” Holy Land Studies 8.2 (2009): 238. Kuruvilla describes the International Centre of Bethlehem Conference in March 2009, at which the South African delegates were consulted in preparation of Kairos Palestine’s release in December of that year.

5 “Kairos Study Guide,” Kairos Palestine, accessed January 2012, http://www.ncc-

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cusa.org/pdfs/kairosstudyguide.pdf.

6 “Come and See,” Kairos Palestine, accessed January 2012, http://www.kairospalestine.ps/sites/default/Documents/Guidelines%20for%20Christians%20Contemplating%20a%20Pilgrimage%20to%20the%20Holy%20Land.pdf, 6.

7 “A Moment of Truth,” 3.

8 Ibid.

9 Ibid., 4.

10 Ibid., 5.

11 Ibid., 6. The use of the word “catastrophe” here is notable, as it is used by Palestinians generally to describe the war in 1948 which precipitated Israel’s establishment as an independent state.

12 Ibid., 7.

13 Ibid., 8.

14 One need only examine the doctrinal statement of any pentecostal church to see that this idea is of foundational import to Pentecostalism generally.

15 “A Moment of Truth,” 8.

16 Sidney H. Schwarz, “Redefining Zionism,” Judaism 35.3 (1986): 316.

17 Nur Masalha, “Reading the Bible with the Eyes of the Canaanites: NeoZionism, Political Theology and the Land Traditions of the Bible (1967 to Gaza 2009),” Holy Land Studies 8.1 (2009): 55.

18 “Ecumenical Liberation Theology Centre,” Sabeel, accessed January, 2012, http:// www.sabeel.org.

19 Naim S. Ateek, “The Theology and Politics of Christian Zionism,” in A Palestinian Christian Cry for Liberation (New York: Orbis, 2010), 78.

20 Cited in Ateek, “The Theology and Politics of Christian Zionism,” 79.

21 Ibid.

22 See, for example, “Fundamental Truths,” Assemblies of God USA, accessed January 2012, http://ag.org/top/Beliefs/Statement_of_Fundamental_Truths/sft_short. cfm. This document states, “We believe in the millennial reign of Christ when Jesus returns with His saints at His second coming and begins His benevolent rule over earth for 1,000 years. This millennial reign will bring the salvation of national Israel and the establishment of universal peace.” Note the reference to ‘national’ Israel.

23 See Newberg, “Pentecostals and Peace in Palestine/Israel,” for a thorough-going account of the typical pentecostal attitude, which need not be recapitulated here.

24 “A Moment of Truth,” 9.

25 Cited in Ateek, “The Theology and Politics of Christian Zionism,” 80.

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26 “A Moment of Truth,” 8.

27 Ibid.

28 N. T. Wright, The Original Jesus: The Life and Vision of a Revolutionary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996).

29 Ibid., 32, 48-49.

30 Ibid., 63.

31 “A Moment of Truth,” 9.

32 Ibid.

33 Richard Bauckham, “Jürgen Moltmann,” in The Modern Theologians, ed. David Ford (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005), 157.

34 “A Moment of Truth,” 9.

35 Ibid., 10-11.

36 Ibid., 11.

37 Ibid.

38 John 14:12-13.

39 “Ecumenical Liberation Theology Centre.”

40 This idea can be seen clearly throughout the Old Testament, especially in Isaiah 9:6-7; 11:1-10.

41 See John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972).

The basic thesis here is that, whilst Christianity is not formally involved in statecraft, is does have political consequences.

42 Rebecca S. Chopp and Ethna Regan, “Latin American Liberation Theology,” in The Modern Theologians, ed. David Ford (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005), 469.

43 Ibid.

44 Ibid., 470.

45 Ibid.

46 Dennis McCann, “Practical Theology and Social Action,” in Practical Theology: The Emerging Field in Theology, Church, and World, ed. Don S. Browning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983), 105–25.

47 Bauckham, “Jürgen Moltmann,” 157.

48 Ibid.

49 Gustavo Gutiérrez, “Theology and Spirituality in a Latin American Context,” Harvard Divinity Bulletin 14 (1984): 4.

50 Chopp and Regan, “Latin American Liberation Theology,” 475.

51 Ibid., 478.

52 Ibid,. 478-9.

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53 Ibid., 479.

54 Schubert Ogden, Faith and Freedom: Toward a Theology of Liberation, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1979).

55 Chopp and Regan, “Latin American Liberation Theology,” 479. Emphasis added.

56 Ibid.

57 Bauckham, “Jürgen Moltmann,” 157.

58 Chopp and Regan, “Latin American Liberation Theology,” 479.

59 Ibid.

60 Ibid.

61 Samuel J. Kuruvilla, “Theologies of Liberation in Latin America and PalestineIsrael in Comparative Perspective: Contextual Differences and Practical Similarities,” Holy Land Studies 9.1 (2010): 57.

62 Although estimates differ, most statistics arrive at, or around, the 2% figure. See, for example, “Christian - Muslim Relations in Palestine,” Middle East Monitor, accessed January, 2012, http://www.middleeastmonitor.org.uk/resources/briefing-papers/1208christian-muslim-relations-in-palestine.

63 Kuruvilla, “Theologies of Liberation in Latin America and Palestine-Israel,” 58.

64 Ibid., 54.

65 Romans 12:17 66 1 Peter 3:9 67 Bauckham, “Jürgen Moltmann,” 157.

68 “A Moment of Truth,” 12.

69 Ibid.

70 Kuruvilla, “Theologies of Liberation in Latin America and Palestine-Israel,” 68.

71 “A Moment of Truth,” 13-14.

72 Ibid., 15.

73 Ibid., 16.

74 A. Rashied Omar, “Kairos Palestine – The Voice of Palestinian Christians,” The Ecumenical Review 63.1 (2011): 122.

75 “A Moment of Truth,” 16.

76 See Stephen J. Land, Pentecostal Spirituality: A Passion for the Kingdom (Cleveland: CPT Press, 2010).

77 John 18:36 78 Amos Yong, In the Days of Caesar: Pentecostalism and Political Theology (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2010), Kindle edition, 243-44. References to this volume correspond to location numbers.

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79 Ibid., 255.

80 Ibid., 171.

81 Ibid., 539.

82 See Amos Yong, The Spirit Poured out on All Flesh: Pentecostalism and the Possibility of Global Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005).

83 Yong, In the Days of Caesar, 1355.

84 See John Christopher Thomas, “Pentecostal Theology in the Twenty-First Century,” Pneuma 20: 1 (1998): 3-19.

85 Yong, In the Days of Caesar, 1372-1373.

86 Ibid., 3651-3652.

87 Ibid., 3531.

88 Ibid., 3649-3651.

89 Ibid., 3868.

90 Ibid., 3675.

91 Ibid., 4033.

92 See especially Gutiérrez, “Theology and Spirituality in a Latin American Context.”

93 Cf. “A Moment of Truth”, 12.

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Review of A Short History of Global Evangelicalism by Mark Hutchinson and John Wolffe Cambridge, CUP 2012.

By Paul Oslington, Professor of Economics, Australian Catholic University, for Australian Pentecostal Studies This is a very fine history of global evangelicalism. It takes evangelicalism not to be a recent anti-modernist movement but true apostolic Christianity (e.g p294). Evangelicalism is viewed broadly, including for instance the Pentecostal tradition that one of the authors stands in as “charismatic evangelicals” (p259). Attempts of some within evangelicalism to limit the movement in a sectarian manner to their own circle of associates are firmly rejected instead the movement is seen as a “porous and ever changing space of mutual recognition” (p274). The closest the authors come to sectarianism is coldness towards the some at the Reformed end of Evangelicalism (p202).

The book has many virtues. It is a comprehensive overview, while avoiding the dullness and superficially of many overviews. Vivid illustrations and probes into the real-life spirituality of evangelicals, such as the final section of chapter 2 on the appeal of Evangelicalism add interest and depth to the book. Another virtue is the extensive treatment of evangelicalism in the global South - the reader certainly gets more than a tour of well trodden paths through British and North American church history. With the changing centre of gravity of world Christianity sticking to such well trodden paths would seriously mislead. Still another virtue is the analysis of the changing relationship between evangelicals and the universities, and high intellectual culture more generally. The rise of evangelical scholarship is connected with the roots of the movement; it is not a chance development, nor merely a grab for power and prestige. The Jesus Christ of popular evangelical devotion is the creator and sustainer of the universe, and good scholarship brings glory to his name. While the book is engagingly written the hard facts are not neglected – especially chapter 8 – “the actual arithmetic”. I was well and truly drawn in by the authors, and found it hard to put down despite lots of other pressing reading on the shelf.

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There is some discussion of recent alignments of Evangelicalism and Roman Catholicism, referring to the work of Mark Noll, but I would have liked to have read more on this. The Roman church was recognised by one-time evangelical John Henry Newman as having a legitimate claim be true apostolic Christianity – and so it cannot be a surprise that its paths will cross those of the Evangelicalism that the authors claim is also true apostolic Christianity. Roman Catholicism and Evangelicalism (including Pentecostalism) seem the best placed Christian traditions to survive in the contemporary world.

The story is told up to 2010, and the authors include some speculations in chapter 9 on the future shape of evangelicalism. Such speculations are brave, and no doubt some will be accurate, and others off the mark. The is to engage the reader in thinking about the present and future, surely legitimate for the historian, and worth the risk.

It is significant that one of the authors is affiliated with Alphacrucis, Sydney’s Pentecostal College. The wisdom and scholarship evidenced by this book is going to be of great value to the College as it matures and takes an increasingly important place in the Australian higher education system, and as Pentecostalism takes its place in Australian society. It is a book which the authors and those in the tradition should be proud.

BOOK REVIEW:

Matthew Del Nevo, The Work of Enchantment by (Transaction Publishers: New Jersey, 2011) Tanya Riches If you’re a second generation Pentecostal like me, your parents may also have thwarted satanic plots outlined in books like Devil Take the Youngest142 by censoring the toybox and kids television time – and thus, a book on “enchantment” may set off alarm bells … of the good kind. Intuitively, younger Australian Pentecostals rail against life confined to church buildings as a 142 Pratney, Winkie. 1985. Devil Take the Youngest. Lafayette, LA: Huntington House.

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weak response to the culture of the world. Within The Work of Enchantment, Charismatic Catholic heavyweight scholar Matthew Del Nevo broaches this topic stating, “…the trouble is that a person can be very religious but totally soulless. Not much theology at all attends to this problem, but it can be a real problem in real communities”143. This book bridges philosophy, theology, aesthetics, sociology (building on Weber’s notion of disenchantment) and spiritual formation through “a twisted secular metaphysics”144. While his insistence that enchantment cannot be “disciplined” may be a drawback for the textbook market, this book models the very thing it advocates, a “knotting between God, man [kind] and world”145.

Del Nevo considers literary, visual and musical classics in order to access the “childlike” and “otherworldly state” of enchantment. He suggests the methods of reading, listening and gazing. Reading becomes an antidote to hurry, listening an antidote for consumption, and gazing a way of understanding without the need to posses. Consequently, enchantment is “soul-work”146, “an axe for the frozen sea inside us”147 and a remedy for people “dead among things”148. Del Nevo suggests our inner world can be healed through this soul-ish spirituality.149 Drawing from reputable scholars such as Adorno, Proust, Rilke and Goethe, he does not deny popular culture. Instead, he declares such investigation will help cultivate “a soul hungry for enchantment” in our everyday lives150.

He outlines historical factors leading to the disenchantment found in modernism, noting the contribution of the Protestant work ethic and scientific inquiry.

He announces that, “the great certainties of modernity are gone, destroyed by our own hand” (referencing Auschwitz and Hiroshima)151. And now in postmodernity, flickering images rush across our vision, but fail to elicit emotion within us. The solution cannot be Religious pomp that entertains but does not enchant, or placeless Puritanism that is the same everywhere. Instead he 143 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. New Brunswick , NJ: Transaction. p16.

144 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 32 145 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 124 146 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 6 147 Kafka in Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 7 148 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 109 149 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 23.

150 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 24 151 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 30

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advocates nourishment from an Infinite beyond ourselves, “not a reality projected upon us, but slowly growing within us”152. In this way, “true religion” becomes a conversation between our inner life and the world, which “[varies] from place to place and over time”153. Carefully addressing the dualism prevalent in Western Christianity he declares, “We are all of us souls as the essence of our human being. Soul is what I am”154. And this soul is embodied, with enchantment as “action not attitude”155. Those lacking imagination lack soul, and psychopaths take this to the extreme.

Next, Theodor Adorno’s social critique provides a basis for Del Nevo’s hopeful future, as he declares, “…despite the culture industries, I do believe that creative individuals and teams of people are able to stand clear of it The culture industries by no means control creativity, nor, I believe, can they contain it.156 In an enchanted world, humanity again reigns over technology.

However, the intention to illustrate enchantment as fundamental to humanity becomes political despite all protests otherwise - if we are to pursue this idea through to its fulfillment, then dull, unimaginative leadership will fail to be enough, and power will shift towards creative and imaginative visionaries.

He presents four vignettes by French novelist Marcel Proust illustrating enchantment at work. The first is Bergotte’s fascination with a painting by Dutch artist Vermeer. After comments regarding a little patch of yellow wall are published, Bergotte travels to the museum although weak with sickness to view this yellow patch. Once ascertaining its location, he dies gazing upon the masterpiece157. The second vignette outlines the power of words as soulmakers and soul-destroyers, as Swann gazes besotted upon Odette, the one woman who could make a truly great cup of tea. However, with a single phrase Odette crushes Swann by admitting sexual liaisons158. In the third vignette, Del Nevo outlines how listening to a sonata by the composer Vinteuil repairs Swann’s soul. A significant turning point is his acquisition of the title of this music, and a discussion on the proper names of things introduces the fourth vignette. Proust allows readers to travel back and forward from Paris 152 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 32 153 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 29 154 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 23 155 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 128 156 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 14 157 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment 40 158 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 44

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to the future (somewhat like the movie Midnight in Paris)159, and Remembrance of Things Past travels to the fictional town of Combray, traversing the landscape of Normandy and Brittany160. Proper names can become enchanting, as Del Nevo demonstrates by listing the towns of his childhood in the Cotswolds, where each name opens up a new world. This contrasts contemporary culture where names serve functional rather than imaginative purposes, and improper names or acronyms and “brand names” are employed for economic profit161.

Next, from written correspondence between great German lyric poet Rainer Maria Rilke and his former love interest Lou Andreas-Salome, Del Nevo demonstrates how inner enchantment leads to Rilke’s masterpiece, The Elegies.162 The work of enchantment mirrors sexuality, a “dimension of all relationship”, with tensions between self-preservation and self-surrender163. Del Nevo outlines the vocational responsibility each of us bear, that of creation. The honest letters between the friends outline a cultural production free of economic intent, where enchantment similarly enchants others as a stone causes ripples in a pond. It is here that Del Nevo’s charismatic perspective is most visible, as he states “the song is one breath through life and death”, linking the word breath pneuma in Greek to the Latin spiritus, and thus to the Holy Spirit.164.

Del Nevo’s enchantment is revealed as a spirit-filled existence.

Del Nevo then turns to Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, and Wilhelm Meister’s Apprentice. He declares, “A society is not true if it is out of step with God above, or the earth beneath; these things too need to rise up invisibly within us even as they gain visibility in our actions”165. Goethe’s three reverences – God, nature and lovers lost to love – correlate to synergies within artistic, scientific and religious worlds that counter the soullessness of capitalism.

Faust’s transformation defies attempts to become enchanted by a deal with the devil Mephistopheles. As a side note, Del Nevo’s chapter on enchanting femininity induced in me strange feelings of exclusion, reading about the power of a woman in a lovely dress. Finally, chapter twelve blurs lines 159 Allen, Woody, 2011. Midnight in Paris. Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.

160 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 67 161 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 72 162 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 75 163 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. 83 164 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment, 109 165 Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment, 128

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between the living and the dead in the story of a Rabbi racked by grief over his dead daughter â&#x20AC;&#x201C; ultimately regaining a joy of living, and thus the story reinforces the point that enchantment is the process of healing the soul. This book is an encouraging step forward towards reclaiming an earthly culture while committing to a spirit-filled (spirited) existence. It is an excellent gift for an educated non-Christian open to spiritual discussions, and while it may require an encyclopedia at the ready in order to access the various works of music, art and poetry, it is well worth this time, in order to become enchanted.

REFERENCES: Allen, Woody. 2011. Midnight in Paris. Sony Pictures Home Entertainment Pratney, Winkie. 1985. Devil Take the Youngest. Lafayette, LA: Huntington House.

Del Nevo, Matthew. 2011. The Work of Enchantment. New Brunswick , NJ: Transaction.