Heidi and Rolland Baker

My cover story on Heidi and Rolland Baker is available online, here. They come from Southern California and they work in Mozambique, where I visited them. They are known for miracles.

They are, I think, the hottest thing in the Pentecostal world, and they definitely subscribe to radical approaches, not all of which I am comfortable with, to say the least. That said, I think they are genuine, and I have never before run into Western Pentecostals who combine full-on Pentecostal enthusiasm with a deep, primary commitment to serve the poor. It’s radically different from the Prosperity Gospel and indeed from the whole consumerist, therapeutic focus of much that passes for strong faith these days.

It is true, as some critics have pointed out, that the Bakers keep company with some pretty nutty people and occasionally subscribe to some marginal ideas themselves. (For example, dream tours of heaven.) But Pentecostals tend to be a pretty loosely organized convocation of cats, who don’t mind walking alongside people whom they don’t agree with. They don’t feel obliged, as a Reformed person would, to point out all the ways in which they are not sure the other guy is right. Their mutual enthusiasm keeps them together, not their doctrinal uniformity. To see these folks as members of a conspiracy, as some do, is based on a misunderstanding of Pentecostalism as a movement. So I think.

The Function of Miracles–Part 3

“God wants so much to invade this world with the reality of what was purchased on Calvary. But He waits for a people who will live the normal Christian life, putting themselves at risk, constantly tapping into the invisible resources of heaven that have been standing idle.” [511]–Bill Johnson, The Supernatural Power of a Transformed Mind

These two sentences very eloquently convey the yearning hopefulness of Pentecostal faith. And they suggest the astonishing dignity that God grants his people. He has named us his agents; he waits for us to begin doing his work. Until we begin, he waits.

Can I just say yes?

Johnson goes on:

“We have the exact authority Jesus has at the right hand of the Father. We are entitled and empowered to be His “House,” His embodiment on earth. As a Christian at this very moment, you have absolute liberty and access to heaven.”

Here I have some hesitation. Do we have Jesus’ exact authority? I think not exactly. In Matthew 28:18 Jesus says that “All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me.  Therefore go….” It seems to me that we have delegated authority. We have the authority to do what Jesus says to do, and not more. It is true, of course, that Jesus longs to do “on earth as it is in heaven,” and that he has chosen us as his agents in that. But of necessity agents are humble. They follow directions. It is an open question whether we have the authority and the liberty to replicate heaven on earth fully, now. What seems more accurate to me is that we are to pray patiently and persistently that God would do “on earth as it is in heaven.” We have a crucial role in that prayer being answered. But it is not an autonomous, absolute role. Just because something is good in God’s sight does not necessarily mean we are charged to bring it about.

Years ago, when John Wimber was blowing a fresh charismatic wind into the church, he  had an unquestionable fascination with resurrection. Early in his ministry, at least, he clearly believed that he would see people raised from the dead, and he was extremely eager to see it. When I studied and interviewed him, I didn’t really understand why he stressed that so much. Now, though, I see it made perfect sense. If we are meant to bring all the qualities of heaven to earth here and now, then it follows that we must raise people from the dead.  There is no death in heaven.

Here is an important question to ponder: does God have a sense of timing in bringing his Kingdom to fulfillment? Is the delay in the fulness of the Kingdom a matter of human unfaithfulness? Or are we servants of some lengthy process that God oversees?

Undoubtedly the latter position is a great refuge for cowards. If I don’t see God at work, don’t blame me, it’s God. One great strength of Pentecostals is activism: they tend to put all on the line. They take risks. Still, I want to make a case for careful humility, too. God is in charge of the universe, not me. I must do what he tells me to do. But I should be wary of taking charge.

The Function of Miracles, Part 2

As one of my readers kindly pointed out, I was pretty imprecise in my first post, mixing Pentecostals and charismatics with abandon, and acting as though they all believe the same thing. I repent. I do know better. There’s tremendous variety among Pentecostals and charismatics. Many hold theological views that are very close to mine. Bill Johnson doesn’t represent them.

What he does represent is the sharp edge of Pentecostalism. He’s confidently advocating the possibility, indeed the necessity, of a Christian life filled with miracles. God can do them, he wants to do them, and if we live faith-filled lives we will see him do them. Miracles are normal in the Kingdom of God.

That’s a strong and attractive message, which I suspect has always been the heart appeal of both Pentecostalism and the charismatic movement. In part it’s a reaction to dull, solemn assimilated Christianity. That’s why exuberant worship is always a key feature, though there’s no reason in principal that Calvinists can’t worship exuberantly. But it’s more than that, and I think Johnson does a good job conveying what it is.

“One of the major functions of miracles and supernatural living is to offer immediate, irrefutable proof of what God wants to happen on earth. It demonstrates who God is by showing what His reality looks like.”

And, “Aren’t you tired of talking about a gospel of power, but never seeing it in action? Aren’t you tired of trying to carry out the Great Commission without offering proof that the Kingdom works?”

His theme is, “on earth as it is in heaven.” In heaven, there is no sickness. Therefore our witness is miraculous healing. That is the normal Christian life.

I’d agree with Johnson wholeheartedly in his thinking about the Kingdom. “On earth as it is in heaven” really is what the coming of the Kingdom means. And that has physical as well as spiritual implications. The whole earth is to be renewed. Christians live as witnesses to that expectation. We’re meant to demonstrate what the Kingdom is like.

The question is, though: why isn’t this the normal Christian life. It isn’t, not even in Pentecostal churches. Not even, I strongly suspect, in Bill Johnson’s church. Because if his church really were like heaven, he wouldn’t have to write a book about it. The New York Times would write about it. And not on the religion page.

So I have to start with a theological question: why is life so consistently not like heaven? And when heaven does seem to burst forth on earth, even if only partly, what should we do with that? Try to imitate the circumstances that (apparently) led to it? Or thank God and go on with whatever we were already doing?