I’m not going to make any friends with this post. In fact, I may lose a few, but I sure hope not.
I grieve for Trayvon and his family. The pain of losing a child is incomprehensible. This incident is indeed a tragedy. It has received widespread attention across the country. Many churches sponsored “hoodie” Sunday this past week to expressed support for Trayvon. The politicians will churn this into a frenzy of racial hate and injustice in pursuit of “social justice.”
It has become popular sport to cheer the demise of the church. I guess it’s a part of the DNA of Protestantism to protest, even if it means protesting oneself out of the faith. I remember Bishop John Shelby Spong’s protest in his book Why Christianity must Change or Die. The spirit of Spong can now be read in the works of Brian McClaren, and others. The problem is that this is becoming mainstream. Even among Pentecostals, those over enthused fundamentalist, we hear some of the same. A friend recently shared a post in which someone listed “15 reasons I left the church.” That provoked me to ask myself, “Why do I love the church?” Well, I love the church because…
This article is adapted from PENTECOSTAL SACRAMENTS.
Early Pentecostals maintained the conviction that the twentieth-century outpouring of the Holy Spirit was an eschatological event signifying the imminent, even immediate return of Jesus Christ. There were many signs that seemed to point to Christ’s imminent return. The great earthquake in San Francisco on April 18, 1906, occurred just four days after W.J. Seymour opened the Azusa Street Mission. For many Pentecostal preachers, this was more than a coincidence, it was one of the signs of the times. Azusa preacher Frank Bartleman wrote a tract in which he attributed the San Francisco earthquake to “the voice of God to the people on the Pacific Coast.”[1] The earthquake, along with the advent of World War I, the communist revolution in Russia, the flu pandemic of 1918, and the Great Depression all contributed to the rise of fundamentalist dispensationalism. Again and again, the Pentecostal preachers cried out, “Jesus is coming soon!”
This prayer is attributed to Patrick, evangelist and Bishop of Ireland (circa 430). According to legend, Patrick evangelized the pagan Celts by using the three leaves of the shamrock (clover) to teach the Christian confession of Holy Trinity (one God in three persons). Some scholars believe this hymn to be later (8th century). It expresses the devotion of medieval Christians. This prayer is called “breastplate” in reference to Paul’s exhortation on spiritual warfare:
Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints (Ephesians 6:14-18 NKJV).
One of the most significant seasons of my spiritual journey was with a small group of pastors in Moultrie, Georgia (circa 1990s) who met weekly to study the gospel text of the common lectionary. The group consisted of an ecumenical mix of two Episcopal priests, one Catholic priest, two Methodist pastors, one Baptist pastor, and me (the Pentecostal). One might wonder how such a group could meet without theological debate, but as we met each week and focused on our gospel study, we discovered we had more about which we agreed than disagreed. In this diversity, each person contributed from his ecclesiastical tradition and was eager to learn about the traditions of others. I have often said that it was in those meetings that I received my theological education.
When they had brought them, they stood them before the Council. The high priest questioned them, saying, “We gave you strict orders not to continue teaching in this name, and yet, you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and intend to bring this man’s blood upon us.” But Peter and the apostles answered, “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:27-29).
The recent controversy between the Obama administration and the Roman Catholic bishops regarding contraception and health care is a precursor of things to come. The federal government has decided that freedom of religious expression in the United States is limited to private expressions of devotion. Worship in an established church will be tolerated for now, but any public expression of religious conviction that contradicts the public policy of the government will not be tolerated. This means that religious institutions that have been established to assist the church in its public ministry of mercy, education, and evangelism will not be allowed to express the conscience and convictions of the church. Catholic hospitals must perform abortions. Catholic universities must provide insurance which guarantees free contraception. The secularist are not content to control the curriculum of public education, they will seek to influence the curriculum of private religious schools as well. These efforts by the federal government seek to rob the religious community in the United States of their public voice and influence.
A few years ago I received a call from my brother very early one Sunday morning. In a voice that sounded very distressed he said, “Dan, I need you.” I ask, “Tim, what’s wrong?” He explained to me that his eighteen year old daughter, Danielle, had been killed in an automobile crash. I immediately left Bainbridge for the three hour drive to Baxley to be with my brother. The night was very dark – no moon and no stars. It seemed as if the whole world had been overcome by the dense, dark night. When I arrived at Tim’s home we embraced and wept together. Then Tim asked, “Dan, why did God take my baby from me?”
My wife and I are the proud parents of two wonderful young men, both in their twenties. I vividly recall the first time I buckled Aaron in his car seat and realized, “O my God, I’m totally responsible for another human being!” The day Aaron was born, I became a man. When we stood in an altar and dedicated our sons to God, Sharon and I took that very seriously. We determined that we were going to disciple our children. As they grew older, it became a battle of the wills, but I knew what was at stake – their eternal salvation. Parenting is a tough gig; it’s definitely not for wimps. What was my greatest concern during my parenting years? I did not want my sons to depart from the church, or the faith.
Bro. Jeffrey Gros, FSC. President, Society for Pentecostal Studies; Dean, Catholic Institute for Ecumenical Leadership
The Pentecostal and liturgical movements are among the most important transformative renewal events of the 20th century. For the most part, their mutual influence has been marginal and minimal, with Pentecostals seeking to restore biblical worship devoid of dead ritualism, and the liturgical movement drawing first on the ancient patristic heritage and more recently on the rich cultural diversity of the Church catholic. This volume will be welcome addition to the emerging literature that seeks to discern the Spirit in both and their mutual enrichment.
The Pentecostal community inherited an “ordinance” approach to the dominical two sacraments in the evangelical Protestant canon, many adding foot washing. This author treats these three, adding anointing and baptism in the Holy Spirit, which those familiar with the sacramental heritage in theology and the liturgical practice of the classical Pentecostal churches will immediately recognize. These are included in this Pentecostal theological treatment, if not yet to the ecumenical canon of sacramental thinking. In the context of foot washing the author treats confession, reconciliation and ministry, all important sacramental rites in the wider ecumenical discussion.
This article is an excerpt from PENTECOSTAL SACRAMENTS.
From their earliest days, Pentecostals have been committed to the study of Scripture. It was in the study of God’s Word they found validation for the Holy Spirit’s outpouring they were experiencing. For many early Pentecostals, it was this single-minded devotion to Scripture that assured a latter-day restoration of the New Testament church. Therefore, the Spirit-renewed church would be “the church of the Bible.” As the church of the Bible, the Spirit renewed church should reflect the life, doctrine, and polity of the apostolic church. Pentecostals justified their faith and practice by the Bible. Speaking in tongues was the initial evidence of the baptism in the Holy Spirit because it was “the Bible evidence.” Converts were to receive water baptism; believers were to partake of the Lord’s Supper and wash the saints’ feet; church members were to practice tithing; the sick were to be prayed for and receive divine healing—all because“it’s in the Bible.”
