Re-imagining The Holy Spirit: Emerging into a post-charismatic world?

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Steven Hamilton’s post on Deep Church earlier this week has raised some great questions.   Let me contextualize my response in some passing comments by Jason, when setting up this series.

Firstly, “how little there is within emerging church resources about the Holy Spirit.”

Secondly, how Jason’s own church plant within Vineyard has “tried to explore our emerging identity and remain within our charismatic tradition” (my italics).

Thirdly, that many of his longstanding emerging church friends are “post-charismatic.”

These suggest two related tensions at work.   One, a loss of confidence in the ‘received wisdom’ about the Spirit bequeathed to us by the 20th Century charismatic movement and Pentecostalism.   The other, a discomforting awareness that while we may no longer feel able to embrace 20th Century charismatic understandings, a fresh pneumatology with which we are comfortable has yet to emerge.

The combined result is an ‘unfilled space’, precisely where a vibrant theology and praxis of the Spirit ought to be located.

It’s like an empty lot, that we drive past each day, on our journeys to and fro other places, with no reason to stop by.

It’s time to rebuild, but many of us find ourselves in reaction:

  • For some of us, a virtual wholesale rejection of that tradition, having witnessed such embarrassments, errors and abuses under the banner of ‘charismatic spirituality’ that we feel nothing good can come out of it.   In an earlier comment, Mike McNichols spoke of “an understandable reaction to groups that have caricatured the Holy Spirit into the facilitator of exotic manifestations.”

In this view, 20th Century charismatic and Pentecostal pneumatologies are simply irredeemable, in anything like the form they are currently practiced at the popular level – we simply have to close that chapter and open a new one.  The extent to which this is a reaction against the pneumatology or against the ecclesiology, theology and culture of its practitioners is another question.

  • Some of us, meanwhile, are still clinging precariously to a certain element of our inherited ‘charismatic tradition’, on the basis that it (or something quite like it) simply must have a place in our experience of a deeply relational God who tangibly engages with us in Christian life.

In other words, since we (rightly) see personal, experiential relationship with God as central to both gospel and ecclesiology, and believe in God’s personal activity in the world, we are loathe to ditch ‘the charismatic’ entirely, despite some considerable discomfort with it as widely practiced. So, with no clear way forward, as an interim measure we scale back, but without abandoning all charismatic praxis (because, like Fox Mulder, it is still the case that “I Want To Believe”).

  • Others, though,  find ourselves (alone or in combination with the above) simply fearful of engaging with the Spirit at all, or afraid of getting it wrong,  so we withdraw into apparently ‘safe’ (yet, empty) territory.

All of these positions, and no doubt others, might be dubbed ‘post-charismatic.’   But as we know from postmodernity, the prefix ‘post-’ simply indicates a moving beyond.   It does not tell us anything about what might replace it.   It’s an in-between state, primarily defined by its negative critique of what came before.

This, then, may be where we find ourselves in our own relationship with the Spirit.

Our position is not helped by, on the one hand, the elusiveness of the Spirit, as part of his very nature, and on the other, the scantiness of biblical instruction on the Spirit.

Not only is pneumatology somewhat underdeveloped in Scripture, it is notable that the Creeds offer us relatively little.  The Apostles Creed, for example, is content simply to state “I believe in the Holy Spirit”, without further elaboration.   Creedal references to the Spirit are, as Clark Pinnock notes, “brief and occasional, at times sounding almost perfunctory” (Flame of Love, Downers Grove: IVP, 1996, p.10).

If, then, we are earnestly seeking to re-imagine the Spirit in our emerging context, but we find the inherited legacy of 20th century charismatic and Pentecostal teachings and praxis an unsatisfactory place to start, how might we develop an orthopraxy of the Spirit that:

  • is faithful to canonical Scripture,
  • respects tradition, especially creedal affirmations, and
  • wholly engages with ‘who we are’ in our contemporary culture?

Steven Hamilton suggests we explore some impulses from our deep church history, such that our forebears’ understanding and praxis might inform our own experience of God through the Spirit.   Since the Holy Spirit “epitomizes the nearness of the power and presence of God” (ibid. p.9), this seems an entirely valid starting point, for the Spirit is, fundamentally, God experienced.

It was the Early Church’s reflections on their own experiences of the Spirit that led them to a fully-Trinitarian theology.*   Just as their experiences of Jesus inevitable led them to certain conclusions as to his Person, so also did their subsequent experiences of the Spirit’s work – it is clear in Luke’s narrative that he sees the Spirit continuing to do what Jesus began to do and to teach (Acts 1:1).

Fundamental to our conception of his ‘doing’ and his ‘teaching’ is his ‘being with us’ (Matt 1:23; Jn 14:9), which the Spirit of Jesus continues (Jn 14:16; Acts 16:7).   To ‘experience’ the Spirit, then, whatever else it may be, is – first and foremost – to engage in a relationship with a Person, who has come to be with us.

Following Steven, I would strongly encourage our exploration of the mystic impulse, particularly within an environment of sacred space; for whatever our emerging doctrine of the Spirit looks like, it will be experienced, not just framed and hung on the wall.

At the same time, we shall need to ‘deconstruct’ all our assumptions about the Spirit inherited from the charismatic traditions.  The Spirit is not simply some amorphous ‘mode of operating’ of God.   He is not a set of gifts, or a power we call down, or an extra-sensory spiritual encounter.   Neither is he here to perform ‘magic tricks’ to order, to endorse or validate our ministries.

We shall also need to unpick the threads of the gnostic and dualistic characteristics that are so deeply woven into the fabric of much Christian understanding of charismatic ‘spirituality’.

* Against the backdrop of a religious paradigm in which monotheism was the overarching and ‘non-negotiable’ tenet, a Trinitarian conclusion was remarkable, and speaks to the deep authenticity of those Spirit-experiences.


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  1. Comment by Jason Coker

    12.40 am on 24 Sep 2009

    This is a fantastic, well-balanced post Steve and I’m exactly in the same place with this issue. However, a couple of caveats occur to me as we “deconstruct” our recent charismatic past:

    1. Given the scant biblical guidance, what will serve as the criteria for determining if something is authentically the HS? It seems to me this is exactly the problem; a lack of clear identity markers and boundaries leaves for a tremendous amount of assumed freedom to label this or that “experience” as the Holy Spirit. I think it’s interesting that the closest thing in scripture to such an indication of the Holy Spirit is entirely character-based (Gal 5:22).

    2. At some point this comes dangerously close to being based on personal comfort, temperamental taste, and class culture. For example, it fits my white, Western (Usonian), middle-class sensibilities perfectly to dismiss the last 100 years of charismatic/pentecostal tradition (yay me!), but many of my African-American, inner-city friends would beg to differ. Even more so, my Latin-American friends would take serious exception to the idea that the very things they consider to be power-encounters, I might write off as ridiculous excess. How can we presume to dismiss these so-called excesses when these very experiences characterize much of the explosion of Christianity that is currently going on in the 2/3 world?

    3. Accordingly, I would humbly suggest your list (faithful to scripture, respects tradition, engages with culture) should include at least one more item: “Engages meaningfully with experiences in the field as reported by believers and supported by good fruit.” Any Pneumatology that can’t engage with the actual (often uncomfortable, perhaps sometimes even distasteful) experiences of believers all over the world really is just “framed and hanging on the wall.”


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    1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

      10.09 am on 24 Sep 2009

      Jason, thanks so much for your thoughts. I am fully in accord with them, and I warmly welcome engaging with the issues you raise, they need to be in the mix here.

      My immediate thoughts, following the same numbering are:

      1. “What will serve as the criteria for determining if something is authentically the HS?” My feeling is that too much authentication of the Spirit has focused on a narrow range of NT texts, primarily relating to the Spirit’s manifestations, and that the subject has been inappropriately ‘de-coupled’ from the Spirit’s interconnectedness with Father and Son.

      Accordingly, I think our hermeneutic (our interpretive lens) should start, firstly, with the nature and character of God (which Jesus embodied, and with whom the Spirit today acts in continuity) and secondly, with the missio dei (what are God’s purposes, how does he interact with humanity, and to what ends?).

      We can expect the Spirit, as an intrinsic member of the one Godhead, to act entirely in accord with these understandings. In other words, our theology/critique of what the Spirit does and how he does it should start from a broader, and more Trinitarian, perspective.

      Thus, the ‘fruit’ of the Spirit’s authentic activity may be assessed initially by reference to its reflection of (and compatibility with) God’s nature, God’s character, and God’s purposes, as we understand all those within ‘the big story’. God’s activities will never deny himself.

      NB – to my mind, flawed interpretations of the Spirit’s work start with flawed understandings of God. And, by the way, I like your focus on the significance of the character-shaping, transformational aspect of the Spirit’s work. I think he is at least as much – if not more – concerned with what he wants to do in us in transformation, than what he can do through us in manifestation.

      2. Yes, I agree. I too am uncomfortable that I write from that same perspective. This is why it is so important that the roundtable for conversation on this subject is a broad one. We need to hear those voices. Equally, though, we must be careful not to patronize, even unwittingly, or by implication: “It’s working for them, so let’s not burst their bubble – leave them to one side.”

      Whilst I do not want to be running round peddling a solution to people who see no corresponding problem (creating a problem that does not otherwise exist) I am equally concerned not to allow apparent ‘success’, or cultural intimidation, to dictate the agenda. After all, many significant theological critiques began when the object of that critique appeared to be at its most popular and successful (Seeker-Sensitive Mega Church in Modernity, perhaps?). On the other hand, cultural situations where the worldview is still aspiring to Modernity should not be burdened with our theological need to move beyond it.

      3. This is a very interesting point. I had in mind that “engages with ‘who we are’ in our contemporary culture” means not just my particular culture, but (by way of example) African culture, too. I do believe that, analogous to the Spirit speaking to us in our native languages, he addresses us in our ‘cultural language’, too. In other words, the Spirit is ‘African’ when he works in Africa (not ‘British’, which I always assumed was normative for him …). There are theological and hermeneutical implications to this, which I have yet to fully consider, but I am thinking along the lines of Gregory of Nazianzus’ 5th Century saying: ‘that which is not assumed is not redeemed’, and Heb 2:17: ‘[Jesus] had to be made like his brothers in every way.’

      A deeply relational understanding of how God works with us should be very much at home with this idea.

      I suggest it also provides a basis for disempowering (i) the hegemony of white, middle-class, Western theology and, (ii) the idea that there is a single, timeless, cultural influence-free biblical theology that can be systematized (by white, middle-class, Western theologians …) and applied globally.

      I could say more, but fear I may already be raising a whole lot more questions here …


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      1. Comment by Jason Coker

        3.59 pm on 24 Sep 2009

        Thanks for the gracious response Steve. I appreciate your clarification on point #3. I’ve been exposed to some projects of cultural engagement that never descended from the abstract heights of cultural analysis and critique, so I’m glad to hear that what you had in mind was a bit more messy than that. : )


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        1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

          5.21 pm on 24 Sep 2009

          Jason, I’m not clever enough to ascend those ‘abstract heights’ in the first place, so I try to keep it simple.

          I always fear my theology is insufficiently academic for a theologian audience and overly academic for a popular audience.

          A more positive way of putting that is to say I want good theology that is eminently practical to seep into the popular environment.


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  2. Comment by chris e

    10.14 am on 24 Sep 2009

    At some point this comes dangerously close to being based on personal comfort, temperamental taste, and class culture.

    Let me add to this that I think a lot of the ‘post charismatic’ impulse comes from people reacting against memories of their parents church.

    For example, it fits my white, Western (Usonian), middle-class sensibilities perfectly to dismiss the last 100 years of charismatic/pentecostal tradition (yay me!), but many of my African-American, inner-city friends would beg to differ.

    I think it’s right and proper to speak when either; the associated movement isn’t a particularly shining example of Christ-like tendancies and/or the actual teaching is contrary to scripture. The times when the teaching seems strange but the results are good are less easy to judge – but then they tend to be far fewer in number and so in this case perhaps we just leave it with God.

    As a non-white Christian myself, I sometimes find it frustrating when western christians are wary of condemning things purely out of a fear of being seen as racist.


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    1. Comment by Jason Coker

      4.17 pm on 24 Sep 2009

      Great point Chris, I really appreciate that perspective. I think sometimes we can be too concerned about appearances. In my case I’m less concerned about being seen as a racist than I am about actually being a racist (maybe “ecclesiological imperialist” would be a more accurate phrase for what I’m concerned about). I think we have a long enough and recent enough history of cultural colonialism – as it were – to be a rather circumspect. Of course, no matter how carefully I think these things through I’m not likely to overcome my own blind spots, so I suspect the best solution, as Steve B suggests above, is to make a rather large and inclusive space for the conversation.


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      1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

        5.51 pm on 24 Sep 2009

        It’s so easy to have a superior attitude. I, too, fear actually being a racist more than appearing to be one (the latter is easier to control).

        We ought to remember in this debate that a good deal of the “blame” for some of the charismatic features that we see manifest in emerging world Christianity can be attributed to what prominent Western Christian personalities present.

        I have experienced this first-hand in India, for example, where I was staying with a deeply-committed Christian family that had their TV tuned to Western world “God TV” channels for hours each day.

        They look up to those they see on TV. This provides them with their models of successful (often fundamentalist, typically Pentecostal) ecclesiology, hermeneutics, leadership-styles and teaching content.

        We are talking here about a nation that is also aspiring to Modernity, so this plays a part, too.

        I fully understand why, for example, if you live in a country with no affordable healthcare, you are highly likely to apply a simple hermeneutic when you read in the Bible about a God who by his Spirit heals in answer to the heartfelt prayers of his people. Who would want to deny that hope?

        But I did just want to make the point that some of the features of charismatic/Pentecostal belief, churchmanship and behaviour we see in emerging world Christianity are by no means wholly indigenous in origin.


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  3. Comment by steven hamilton

    11.21 am on 24 Sep 2009

    while not wholly emerged, i wonder what we all see “in the field” in terms of being further down the pathway of being charismatic.

    while i am not a big fan of the term “post-charismatic”, what makes me hopeful about calling any movement forward into the future “post-charismatic” is that it gets us out of “bottling up” our former methodologies for experiencing the Spirit, and hopefully breaks new ground rather than forming up the holy huddle for “Spirit time”.

    another hopeful sign is the global aspect (as all of you have mentioned), in that the path we currently tread seems to be toward integration of the perspectives and influence of many ethnicities, races, cultures, nations. as a white western man, this is so encouraging to me…

    i am for understanding a broader a broader Trinitarian perspective – particularly in the messy process of discernment via-a-vis the acts and work of the Spirit, but i would add that while i seek and want good theology and right thinking in terms of God and the Holy Spirit, it seems to me that more times than not the Spirit cares less about that than i do…again, the Trinitarian God is the most free person i know, and many times He has offended me doing scandalous mission that i should have been a part of rather than be frozen in my own arrogance and littleness…i’m just saying our hermeneutic needs to extend beyond one-time decisions and look and discern and wait for the fruit…i’ll have a little more to say along those lines next week…


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  4. Comment by Steve Burnhope

    11.54 am on 24 Sep 2009

    I look forward to next week’s blog, Steven!

    I, too, am not particularly keen on the term ‘post-charismatic’ (at least until we have a more developed view as to what we mean by that). Just recently, I’ve discussed this terminology with Jason (Clark), funnily enough, but have yet to settle on something.

    I’m looking for a term that both reflects my status as “still clinging precariously to a certain element of our inherited ‘charismatic tradition’” and is not ‘loaded’ – as it would be if, for example, one were to use ‘post-naive charismatic’, or ‘post-fundamentalist charismatic’.

    Maybe the best thing is to choose a phrase that has no automatically accessible meaning written into it, such as Trinitarian charismatic.

    On the point of the freedom of the Spirit, I like Pinnock’s description (crediting St. John of the Cross (b. 1542) which “aptly calls the Spirit a living flame of love [hence Pinnock's book title] and celebrates the nimble, responsive, playful, personal gift of God.”


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    1. Comment by steven hamilton

      12.28 pm on 24 Sep 2009

      ha! in that case, we should maybe call ourselves “Flame-imatics” or “Charis-lusives”…

      i so appreciate your description of the Spirit as elusive, evoking Jesus’ apt description.


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      1. Comment by Jason Coker

        4.18 pm on 24 Sep 2009

        What we need is a branding strategy and a focus group. I can get the graphic designers started on mocking up some logo comps.

        : )


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        1. Comment by steven hamilton

          4.57 pm on 24 Sep 2009

          great! ;-)

          although i think robby mac and emerging grace already did this with their “charismissional” that i really identify with.

          have you all read grace’s article? here is the link:

          http://theporpoisedivinglife.com/porpoise-diving-life.asp?pageID=404


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  5. Comment by Steve Burnhope

    1.18 pm on 24 Sep 2009

    You know, I love the idea that the Spirit refuses to be tied-down (the biblical metaphors of wind, fire, water, and even dove, taken collectively, seem to me to be making that point). I also think it’s an implication in Jn 3:8.

    In ancient times, wind, fire and water would be viewed as far less controllable than we see them today. All offered benefits to humankind, and met needs, but none could be taken for granted or treated lightly.

    Where I am less certain is how far we can take ‘a refusal to be tied-down’ into “no-one therefore knows what he might do next” territory, since that line of thinking can be used to credit virtually anything to the Spirit. Should not our pneumatology be approached the same way as, say, our soteriology, or our christology? Namely, that it needs to be faithful to the complete picture offered by the biblical materials taken as a whole, and can be validated accordingly?

    I can’t see that those specific metaphors, or proof-texted verses, in isolation, can be used to substantiate (i) a kind of “potentially, folks, anything goes” approach to setting people’s expectations of what the Spirit might do, or (ii) a disempowering of our attempts to validate what is or is not authentic Spirit activity by reference to the biblical materials.

    As an observation on hermeneutics generally, it is always disappointing to see people crediting certain verses, particularly propositional ones, (or in this case, certain concepts), with disproportional interpretational importance. The ones we like best, maybe?

    It is also surprising how people over-focus on verses that mention the word ‘Spirit’. This may be how and why the critically important imago dei and missio dei aspects get left out. How the Trinitarian aspect should inform our understanding, of who he is and what he does, also gets left out – even though, before the Spirit is anything else, he’s a ‘team player’.

    Might more and better focus on who he is lead us to a more adequate understanding of what he does?


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    1. Comment by steven hamilton

      2.00 pm on 24 Sep 2009

      i’m with you and i think the missio dei aspect which is critical to understanding “what he does” gets left out, especially as we seek to control and limit the work of the Spirit to our holy huddles.

      i’m also right there with you in that our approach to pneumatology needs to be much the same as our approach to christology. so while i do want to have “an approach” regarding matters of the Spirit, of course, its the complexity of the freedom thing that trips me up every time.

      for instance, lots of what God does as witnessed to in scripture makes no sense unless i look at the before and after and discern what God is doing. like in joshua and the “siege of jericho”. on the seventh day – sabbath – the warriors and priests are told to do twice as much “work”, and that is when God acts to bring down the walls. so, as important as torah was and is, it’s listening and obeying what the Father is telling us/leading us to do that goes. God “breaks the rules” of sabbath that he set up.

      although this thought occurs to me: possibly our theology and pneumatology has some relationship with deep experience and maturity. instead of giving up on being charismatic, we take what we have learned and move forward. this also has implications for praxis: the wisdom to know when to step “out-of-bounds” or somehow disregard part of a rule, only comes after you really knowing it deeply and having lots of experience of doing things “in-bounds”. you talk about being less certain is how far we can take ‘a refusal to be tied-down’ into “no-one therefore knows what he might do next” territory, since that line of thinking can be used to credit virtually anything to the Spirit. perhaps to take up a donald miller metaphor, it’s much more like elusive and free jazz music. you need the discipline to learn to play an instrument (via praxis) and read and do music really well (via thrology) to take up jazz and be released to dance around the notes but not get off on another sheet of music. of course, we are also talking about living music, music that takes hold of us…

      thus, perhaps this practical pneumatological wisdom is only garnered in two ways: through our own experience or listening to and obeying the voice and stirrings of God that take hold of us.

      i’m not sure that takes us anywhere, but i thought i would share that thought…


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    2. Comment by steven hamilton

      2.09 pm on 24 Sep 2009

      one more quick thought: i really, really want to be discerning in this area, because i fear “theologizing” the risk/faith out of my seeking to connect with God. i both want and fear the freedom…and maybe that tension is a good place to be.

      i am also very receptive to appraoches like that of my friend dr. terry wardle of the ashland theological seminary, who recently said something about towards being charismatic and it being ok for church to be “dangerous” so-to-speak:

      “I am sure that there are some who would find such notions dangerous. I hope so. Dangerous is what the church is to be. Safe? Of course. Scriptural? Without question. Sound in doctrine? Yes, as it serves the journey to Christ. Evidencing the fruits of the Spirit? Naturally. But with all that said, the church needs to be un-tame to the core. Someone should stand up before the service and give instructions like those heard every day prior to takeoff. “God will be here today and we may face turbulence. When He comes, make sure hardhats are secure, put your seat in the safe and upright position. Fasten your seatbelt. It may be a bumpy ride. If needed, oxygen will be supplied for all who find themselves gasping for breath. The air gets thin where we are going. And, thanks for choosing to worship today with People of the Presence.”


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  6. Comment by Steve Burnhope

    2.20 pm on 24 Sep 2009

    Steven, I really like your music metaphor, that “it’s much more like elusive and free jazz music. you need the discipline to learn to play an instrument (via praxis) and read and do music really well (via theology) to take up jazz and be released to dance around the notes but not get off on another sheet of music. of course, we are also talking about living music, music that takes hold of us …”

    This is taking us into space that recognises very well the tension between freedom and discipline, and takes both praxis and learning seriously.


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    1. Comment by steven hamilton

      12.04 pm on 25 Sep 2009

      I wonder if another way to look at the elusive Spirit might be via chaos theory. Our universe is a complex, chaotic place. From our limited perspective it is full of uncertainty and it can be difficult to predict exactly what is going to happen at any given time. Scientists and mathematicians have developed a theory to explain seemingly-chaotic, complex phenomenon. It is called chaos theory. The name “chaos theory” comes from the fact that the systems that the theory describes are apparently disordered, but chaos theory is really about finding the underlying order in apparently random data. There is no doubt that small causes can combine with others and contribute to major effects. There are many phenomena which depend on so many variables as to defy description in terms of science and mathematics. El Shaddai points this out to Job when He finally appears to him from the whirlwind. Yet even we can see such systems—things like the turbulent hydraulics of a waterfall—do seem to exhibit some kind of order in their apparently chaotic tumbling. The discovery that there may still be some underlying order—instead of complete randomness—in chaotic systems is, of course, still perfectly consistent with… “For God is not the author of confusion . . ” (1 Corinthians 14:33).

      Maybe there is balance in the idea that all of creation occurs between order and chaos. Too much order, and the system is too frozen to change … it cannot adapt, thus it dies. Too much chaos and there is not enough of a fixed basis for anything to retain a form and hence the outcome may seem like meaninglessness. Somewhere between lies a range that is the balance point, which permits all life to exist and spirit to express itself. The Spirit still moves upon the waters…the Spirit still moves upon us. I think this chaos theory perspective might be another point of departure for further application to our pneumatology and charismatology.


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      1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

        3.38 pm on 25 Sep 2009

        Interesting way of looking at it.

        An added complexity comes from the fact that, as humans, we each deal differently with ‘chaos’ and ‘order’: one person’s ‘chaos’ is another person’s ‘open, creative environment’. One person’s ‘order’ is another person’s ‘dead legalism’. And so on. This will affect our perceptions of what is, or is not, authentic activity of the Spirit, or an authentic interpretation of what scripture has to say about the Spirit.

        I have written elsewhere about the tensions between ‘pioneer-types’ and ’settler-types’ – although we need both in the church, they do not necessarily find it easy to work together, or listen to each other. One might oversimplify this (greatly) by saying that both prophets and pastors have something vital to say, and the church is incomplete without what each has to contribute. But we are so used to there being ‘one right answer’ to each question, that we do not find it easy to live with the messiness of several right answers. It’s like asking which anchor point is foundational for the spider’s web. Answer: all of them. That sounds pluralistic, and we’ve grown up to assume that pluralism is bad and wrong: every question must have a right (or at least, a most-nearly right) answer and other, necessarily wrong, answers.

        That God himself might operate in a far more pluralistic, or messy, or even chaotic way than we thought (always allowing that, for him, chaos does not mean outwith his sovereignty, to the extent he chooses to exercise it) may be difficult to grasp. And difficult to systematise!

        But, is it really any more difficult to grasp than loving one’s enemies, the cross being a triumph, when I am weak then I am strong …?


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        1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

          6.25 pm on 25 Sep 2009

          PS I do appreciate that the Spirit’s work in (initial) creation involved bringing order out of chaos; and, the way that ‘chaos’ was viewed in the ancient world. I suggest both Steven and I are using the terms differently here.


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          1. Comment by steven hamilton

            6.52 pm on 25 Sep 2009

            yes, i see that.

            i also was thinking – in terms of sacred scripture – that the period of the judges/liberators/shoftim, where God would raise up charismatic leaders but still in essence be the King (note how He claims the people are rejecting Him as king in asking for a human king), that His reign and work was continually one of liberation with order eventually underlying the messy chaos…but of course, there is much complexity in this, as you noted earlier.

            i still think there is something to bringing insights from chaos theory into our pneumatiology and charismatology…i guess i need to go find out how that would apply… ;-)


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            1. Comment by Steve Burnhope

              6.59 pm on 25 Sep 2009

              Please do develop that further, Steven – I would be fascinated to read your extended thoughts/insights from chaos theory.


            2. Comment by Jason Coker

              11.52 pm on 26 Sep 2009

              By the way Steve, a friend of mine here in San Diego is doing his dissertation on Chaos Theory and Missional Church structures. You might be interested to read one of his posts here: http://thehsus.com/views/2009/08/20/the-shape-of-a-networked-church/


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  7. Comment by Steve Burnhope

    6.07 pm on 24 Sep 2009

    And for those familiar with music, the framework within which one improvises is playing, freely and creatively, within certain set scales (i.e. groups of notes that will be in harmony with the key we’re playing in) that all the participants are familiar with, which we might say is analagous to core hermeneutical principles.

    I should perhaps say almost always, since occasionally something like Seattle Grunge comes along and pushes the boundaries a bit …


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  8. Comment by rodney neill

    10.33 pm on 24 Sep 2009

    Having been deeply involved in and disillusioned by the shepherding stream of the charismatic movement, been at Wimber conferences in the past I would call myself a progreeive liberal in the Dave Tomlinson mould. I have not discovered these posts until to-day but will read them and then hopefully join in the conversation!

    Rodney


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  9. Comment by Steve Burnhope

    10.58 pm on 24 Sep 2009

    Rodney, I personally could easily count myself within that ‘progressive liberal Dave Tomlinson mould’ too, so I very much welcome your joining in the conversation here. Given that disillusionment, which I share, you might be interested to engage with some of the blogs on my website, http://www.faithandstuff.org.

    I now prefer the moniker post-conservative evangelical, which is a phrase coined (or purloined) by Roger Olson.


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  10. Comment by Dan Wilt

    7.27 pm on 26 Sep 2009

    I will simply say, we absolutely must find our way in developing a pneumatology that is real, substantial and applied beyond intellectual language.

    I have watched the sick healed before my eyes, personalities unlocked from their prisons into wholeness, and circumstances change in radically unpredictable ways due to the Spirit’s intervention.

    We must plunge headlong into a rich, exuberant embrace of the Holy Spirit’s activity in culture in order to be in accord with Paul and a New Testament vision of faith.

    We are lost without this good, important work. Cheers to the conversation.


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  11. Comment by Frank Emanuel

    2.12 am on 27 Sep 2009

    I enjoyed these two posts. As a Vineyard pastor who is also part of the emerging church conversation, I agree that there is a bit of a sense of moving on from the Charismatic/Pentecostal moment. My roots are Pentecostal and it wasn’t my experience that led me on, it was my reflection on how these movements directed me to mediate those experiences. Personally I don’t just want to believe, I long for the experiences that I’ve had. They were deeply formative for me.

    I was thinking though about Steven Hamilton’s suggestion of a historical retrieval/investigation. I get a bit antsy because of the complexities of history. For instance, I wonder if a bigger impulse for the desert fathers and mothers was not a longing for martyrdom which self-exile seemed to sate? In other words a romantic longing for the past that translated into a new experience. If that is right then my concern is that we might do the same. Indeed that was my big issue with my Pentecostal experience – it was boxed up so you didn’t reflect on it. The history of North American evangelicalism is rife with such boxes, and it actually hurts the movement’s sense of identity.

    This will be a good conversation to follow. I will have to point folks to it from my blog.


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    1. Comment by steven hamilton

      12.46 pm on 27 Sep 2009

      you’ve named a fear of mine as well frank: no move in the movement, so-to-speak. i think the reflective piece actually helps and creates movement or a moving forward…

      i am also a for bringing the reflective, contemplative practices and fusing them with the charismatic. i actually tried to do this very thing this past summer with a small cohort of people who were interested in spiritual formation…it was quite good, even if a bit challenging at times to bring together.


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  12. Comment by andrew

    9.03 am on 29 Sep 2009

    Following Steven, I would strongly encourage our exploration of the mystic impulse, particularly within an environment of sacred space; for whatever our emerging doctrine of the Spirit looks like, it will be experienced, not just framed and hung on the wall.

    At the same time, we shall need to ‘deconstruct’ all our assumptions about the Spirit inherited from the charismatic traditions. The Spirit is not simply some amorphous ‘mode of operating’ of God. He is not a set of gifts, or a power we call down, or an extra-sensory spiritual encounter. Neither is he here to perform ‘magic tricks’ to order, to endorse or validate our ministries.

    hi.
    i think this piont about mystics eally spoke to me; i have for a few years now investigating this area. i recently went on a pilgrimage to the site where richard rolle lived, it was quite an interesting day and it has lead me to;
    1; blog about it.
    2. continue my investigations.

    http://www.pilgrimconversations.wordpress.com
    hope you enjoy.


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