Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Stepping into the Supernatural: Why it Matters

I've been thinking about a post like this for a while and just wasn't sure how to start, or how. I'm still not sure, but I'm moving forward anyway (a little bit like how it is to step into the supernatural!).

What Makes us Avoid the Supernatural?

I've been in discussion where the word "supernatural" was considered an illegitimate word. For some the word "supernatural" suggests that what God does is not natural to Him. These folks don't deny what is commonly called the miraculous, it just says it's not above God's nature. For others, on the opposite side of the spectrum, the idea of anything supernatural is just plain bunk, deception, or even worse (among some dispensationals and other cessationists): demonic in origin.

For the vast majority of Reformed and Evangelical folks, supernatural is a word we would use to talk about the miraculous in the Bible, and maybe not so much about anything that happens in our day. We're often theologically, or functionally cessationists, though we might concede an exception to the rule here or there.

I'll simply state what I mean by the word "supernatural:" stuff that happens in the observable realm that has a cause in the unseen realm of angels, demons and, of course God. For the purposes of this blog, I'll only be addressing those things God does directly or perhaps at times through His ministering angels.

Now, to answer the question I posed as the heading for this section: I think we prefer to avoid the supernatural, for two main reasons. First, it messes with our scientific, empirical world-view, that discounts anything unobservable as less than real (or at least less real). Second, it suggest that there is something that can directly affect us beyond our direct knowledge or control.

A brilliant example of the first reason for avoiding the supernatural was told to me by a friend. A man was miraculously and instantly healed of a physical problem in a regular worship service in a non-Pentecostal church. The healing was obvious to all who saw it (not just "no more pain"). After the service someone approached the pastor and asked "So, what do you think really happened?" The worldview of the one asking the question had no room for the supernatural, and so sought a natural explanation for what he just saw.

I don't have a particular example to illustrate the second reason we prefer to avoid the supernatural, but I think it's actually the most common. We love to be in control. We prefer to be in control. We often deny, in a way reminiscent of addicts discussing their addiction, that we actually are in complete control of our destinies. It's all up to us. It's the subtext of almost everything Disney has ever produced. In my view, it's also why some Christians always try to find a direct (usually moral) cause for natural disasters. It gives the illusion of control in that, if we don't do that, it won't happen to us.

The Biblical worldview is nothing like either of these objections. Throughout Scripture we meet people who are not in control of their destinies, but seem to be along for the ride. Two shining examples of this are Joseph and Esther, both of whom rise to places of power at just the right time to rescue their people from disaster. The Biblical message in both cases is that God is working, behind the scenes, unseen (the book of Esther doesn't even mention God), and yet clearly God gets done exactly what He intends to do.

A third sort of rejection of the supernatural is almost not worth mentioning, but it's also present: we reject the idea of the supernatural, because we don't like it. We'd prefer an existence without the possibility of demons (e.g.), or a God who can do stuff that affects us without our knowledge or permission. So, we simply assert it doesn't exist. It's the logical equivalent of putting one's fingers in one's ears and loudly singing "la la la la la" until any counter argument has finished presenting itself. The silliness of such an approach is surpassed only by the number of people who actually make use of it.

I'll discuss one more important reason for our hesitation below.

What if the Supernatural is Supposed to be Normal for Christians?

Actually, the supernatural is normal for Christians (at least orthodox ones)! We believe that we cannot come to faith in Christ, unless the Holy Spirit moves us to faith. On this point both Calvinists and Arminians are in agreement (at least the Arminians I know)! Further, we Calvinists believe that it is also by God's grace that our faith is sustained throughout our life time. That is, God's Spirit is at work in us helping us sustain that faith He first produced in us. We also believe that the Holy Spirit is always at work sanctifying us (making us holier and holier) from spiritual infancy to greater and greater maturity. That is all supernatural!

But what about the possibility of supernatural activity that affects, not merely our spiritual life, but our natural life? Here's where we Reformed types (and many Evangelicals) begin to balk. Does God heal a broken bones in our day? Does He heal people of illnesses? Does He give, what Pentecostals and Charismatics call 'words of knowledge' to people, that is, specific information about people they could not know otherwise (c.f. John 4:17-18)? Does He still give sight to the blind, open deaf ears, raise the dead? I'm not asking if He can, I'm asking if He does.

Documentaries such as The Finger of God, and Holy Ghost are fascinating in that they capture on film actual healing and other miracles. While some could be explained without resorting to anything supernatural, many, many others cannot. If you haven't seen these, I'd recommend them, if not just to challenge your assumptions about how God is at work in our day.

What if the gospel is supposed to march in step with signs and wonders? What if it's not only the 72 who were sent out to Heal the sick who are there and tell them "The kingdom of God is near you." (Luke 10:9); what if we are to do what they did too? What if Jesus' intention in bringing the kingdom was not to bring simply a teaching about it, but to demonstrate the Kingdom's power wherever it went?

One striking thing about the the first epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, is that on the heals of his renowned sermon in Athens (Acts 17:22-31), he went directly to Corinth. He says this about his visit there:

When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on men’s wisdom, but on God’s power. (1Cor. 2:1–5, emphasis added)  
And later this:

But I will come to you very soon, if the Lord is willing, and then I will find out not only how these arrogant people are talking, but what power they have. For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power. (1Cor. 4:19–20)  
Rereading the events at the Areopagus (sometimes called "Mars Hill") in Athens in Acts 17, we find two striking things in Luke that seem to take on more meaning given what we find in the above passages. First, we hear Luke introduce the famous speech in Athens by saying of the Athenians and others there that they ...spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas. (Acts 17:21), and follows the message by stating A few men became followers of Paul and believed... (Acts 17:34 - emphasis added: "few" or "some," not "many"). Luke doesn't present Paul's sermon at the Areaopagus as the roaring success most of us have attributed to this wonderfully contextualized sermon.


One More Objection to Expecting the Supernatural in the Christian Life:

This objection is so insidious, it can't be dismissed: I know lots of Christians who have never seen a miracle, a healing, a deliverance, a word of knowledge, or anything like that. Are you saying they aren't Christians, or that their faith is deficient in some way?

There are actually three objections in the above, and I hope I can deal with them honestly and in a way that doesn't look like I'm setting up a straw dog.

The first part of the objection "have never seen" is really an appeal to experience, right? Many, many genuine Christians have never experienced a miracle, either for themselves or witnessed it first hand. I know this is true. It was true of me for a long time after I became a Christian. Here's the insurmountable problem with that argument: experience can't dictate theology. That is a lack of experiencing something cannot be the grounds for a theology against others experiencing that sort of thing. While experience can't give us a theology of the supernatural happening today (which some do experience), neither can a lack of such experiences give us a theology that denies that these things can happen. If we are going to either deny or affirm theologically that the supernatural occurs in our day, we need something beyond someone experiencing it, and another not experiencing it.

Would the experience of some Christians with the supernatural imply that Christians who don't have such an experience mean they are not Christians? Let me be blunt: No. We are not Christians by what we do, or by what we fail to do. We are Christians by grace, through faith. But neither does the lack of such an experience by some Christians mean that they ought not have them, nor that they are not important.

The third objection is more subtle, but can't be avoided. It seeks to dismiss the dissonance between some Christians experiencing supernatural things and others not, as a sort of tacit elitism by those experiencing these things. If one group of believers has something that another set of believers doesn't, is one set better than the other, because it has it? Is one set of believers more Christian?

Before addressing this valid concern, let me first pause and suggest that it's a really bad argument against the supernatural happening today. It doesn't hold any water at all. If the supernatural were a flim-flam job, merely the power of mental suggestion, group hypnosis, or wishful thinking, then what should be addressed are the lies that support the view that the supernatural occurs today, and as the truth is exposed, the elitism will come crashing down with it in humble surrender.

The charge (or fear?) of elitism is a slippery one to defend against. But it is equally slippery to assert. Which group is the one with the problem? Having grown up in a Reformed context, I know what it is to feel like we Reformed folks have something the others just don't have, and we have it in a better way than they all do. If that isn't elitism, what is? Thankfully, I don't see that very much any more. BTW, I've seem a great deal of arrogance and elitism among Charismatics, Pentecostals, Baptists, Lutherans, Methodists, Catholics, and just about any other group of people you might mention (even a few Mennonites, who can be very skilled at hiding it!).

The whole point of this blog, The Reformed Charismatic, is to suggest that the Reformed movement has a lot to learn from Charismatics and Pentecostals. It's also to suggest that Charismatics and Pentecostals have a lot to learn from the Reformed movement. Let me assure my Reformed brothers and sisters that some of the Pentecostals and Charismatics I know are just as nervous about the subject matter of this blog as you are! For many of them the supernatural is also the exception, not the rule.

Let's address the charge of elitism for a moment by contemplating whether a little humility is in order. Suppose the supernatural is supposed to be more "normal" in the Christian life. What if there's something we've been missing all along. If it's from God, why wouldn't we want it?

So, How Does This Work in Real Life?

I'm going to be very honest here: I'm still working this out. I've seen people healed, and others not--and not in the way I would have prioritized the healings, if I were God! I've seen weirdness go off on inscrutable tangents, and sincere people minister in the power of God in loving ways with damaging results (which, by God's grace was dealt with later). I've also seen lives so completely transformed that it was difficult to recognize (physically!) the new person from the old. I've prayed with people whose bones were broken, confirmed by X-Ray and healed (also confirmed by X-Ray). I've prayed with a woman who could hardly walk with a walker, until she walked the aisle to the front of the room (over 100 feet). I've spoken words of knowledge that were 'right on,' and prophetic words that turned out just as I'd spoken them. It's been confusing, and glorious, and sometimes a complete failure. I'd love to have a clear answer to the above question!

I guess I'm learning. One of the most important lessons I'm learning is that learning to minister in the supernatural, at least for me, is a process. It has included failure followed by breakthrough. I've also learned that there is no 'formula' to make it work when I want to. Thirdly, following God's prompting (and distinguishing them from my own urges), is another key in moving in the supernatural more consistently. The moment I think "I've got it" and try to move on my own, outside of conscious dependence on God, I fall flat. On the other time, even when I am aware of God's prompting (as best as I can discern them), and am consciously dependent on Him, still things don't always happen as I wish or expect.

Here's one conclusion I'm coming to: if the supernatural is real--if God really is moving in supernatural ways in our day--I want to be a part of what God is doing. And if what Paul says in 1Corinthians 2:1-5 still applies, then I need to do some work to align my ministry with that Biblical model.

No comments:

Post a Comment