jonathan stegall

From RobbyMac:

Brother Maynard has suggested that September should be a month of post-charismatics giving voice to what apostolic leadership could/should look like. I’d like to propose a synchro-blog to get the ball rolling – namely, as I’ve just shared my earliest “charismatic” experience (after becoming a Christian, that is), let’s remind ourselves and tell each other our stories of how we first became acquainted with, and eager for, the felt presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives.

Should you be unaware of what a post-charismatic is, give the above blogs, as well as Mike Morrell’s, parts of this blog, and several others, a perusal. In any case, I had actually been planning to give an account of my first encounter with the Spirit. In the near future, I believe I will be telling my story, in a very broad way, for the people of Revolution.

I spent a good part of 1997 and 1998 diving into various occult beliefs and practices, especially Wicca. I found good and bad there, and in addition to that it brought out good and bad that was already in me. One of the things that has always been a part of me for better and for worse is a desire for things to be supernatural, but authentic and life-changing at the same time. I grew up in the church, and did not find it to be any of those things.

In light of this, I wasn’t expecting anything in particular when I visited my first Pentecostal church, which was, and is, an Assemblies of God church in Salisbury, North Carolina. I visited because I had been bribed by a friend, and found myself sitting in a chair watching teenagers clap and sing to God, standing in front of an empty stage while a sound system played CDs. This in itself was radical to me, considering my particular upbringing, but certainly not enough to interest me.

My friend, in what I now understand to have been an incredibly perceptive moment of contextualization and maybe some syncretism, explained to me that I could try to invoke God and see what might happen. Being very familiar with invocations and the interesting experiences that they could bring about, and having never thought about the word in connection with this kind of God, I thought it was worth a try.

When I did this, it was as though I was entirely engulfed and surrounded by tangible power. I had no idea what to do about it, and decided not to do anything but sit there and experience it. I have no idea how long I sat there, and I remember getting up at some point to listen to a youth pastor preach, but I honestly don’t remember anything he said.

As an aside, that is not to devalue people who preach and teach well, but it is to say that for myself as a teacher, a preacher, a theologian, or whatever; my task is to chase after the heart of God and help others to do so as well. If that involves discussing the demise of Christendom and why that is a good thing, or discussing the relevance of Leviticus to postmodern minds, that’s wonderful. If it involves shutting up and getting out of the way, that’s also wonderful.

Anyway. That night, I learned that I wanted to go after God with my life, and be wherever God was and do whatever God was doing. It is this that has placed a drive in me to be at the cutting edge of things I’m involved with (be it design, theology, ministry, or social action), because that’s where change happens. A couple of years later, when I was in college seeking to learn more about all these issues, I was introduced to the writings of Brian McLaren and others like him, some who are known and some who are unknown. I mention him because this introduction occurred through the book More Ready Than You Realize, a book about sharing Jesus with postmodern people. In it, he writes this:

Then he [a friend of Brian's] became serious and said, “Really, Brian, I want you to remember that you’ll never stop growing in Christ. I don’t ever want you to get comfortable. I want you to always find the curl of the wave, the place out in front where things are happening. Go to the cutting edge of things, and throw your energies in there. That’s where you belong.” Now, nearly thirty years later, I remember that moment vividly, and I realize that God was speaking to me through Dave that day.

I believe that at that moment, in a medium-sized church in a small town, I was given a drive for this. A drive to be at the cutting edge, always moving, always changing. I have not always lived up to this, any more than I have always lived up to the desire to be where God is, but these two desires have combined to be the shaping forces in my life.

Enjoy a previously scheduled post, as we are spending time in the middle of nowhere at Cornerstone Festival.

When I was in college, one of the professors with whom I felt I resonated most was Dr. Mike Rakes, who is now the pastor of Winston Salem First Assembly of God. He is a man with a passion for renewing the church, and helping it engage culture with the presence of God in new, innovative ways. Among all the voices clamoring for the attention of Pentecostals and charismatics today, I believe he is one of the most significant.

In any case, at least some messages from the church are available on their website. Occasionally, we are able to watch live webcasts, and this past Sunday was one of those days. The message given spoke about the story of Gideon, recorded in Judges 6 and following. It is worth a listen when it goes up, and there were a number of things that stuck out and are all worthy of posts, but the one thing that struck me the most ways this: “We are the fleece that society has laid out before God.”

Now, if you are not familiar with the story of Gideon, it is a story in which the people of Israel have turned away from God, who has sent them a judge (Gideon) to deliver them from their enemies. Gideon develops a life of obedience to the God who calls him, and in something of a climax to the story he is given an incredibly difficult task in which he will fight against very large odds. Before doing this, he asks God to assure him by allowing a fleece laid overnight on the ground to be the only moist item, and then the next day he asks God to allow the fleece to be the only dry item. Both signs do occur.

In any case, the message said that society has laid us, as the church, out as a fleece before God. It does not see that God is real because we don’t present significant evidence in our lives that he is. Our task, then, is not to argue with society, or to push ourselves on it, or to try to prolong the death of Christendom, or any number of other things that the church in the West is currently trying to do. None of that will help. The only thing that we are asked to do is live in such a way that we present the presence of Christ. That we present the living God.

Of course, it is very easy for Pentecostals and charismatics to get a thrill out of a statement like this and feel proud of themselves, but the truth is that we in that tribe of Christianity do not, as a whole, make God seem any more real than anyone else does. This is bigger than issues among tribes, or doctrinal stances, or anything else we could use to include or exclude followers of Jesus from responsibility to this idea.

Before you do anything with this post, visit www.zoecarnate.com and bookmark it. For several years, it has been an amazing resource for anything outside mainstream Christendom, and it continues to improve.

Now. Mike Morrell is one of the founders, and blogs at zoecarnate.wordpress.com. Currently, as part of a wide-ranging conversation that is occurring among emergent bloggers related to Pentecostals and charismatics, he is hosting a dialogue with John Crowder, a prophetic evangelist who wants to be “wasted on Jesus.” The dialogue is respectful, insightful, and is really a blessing to read.

An aside on the “wasted on Jesus” part of John’s message. I have often described experiences with the Spirit with that term, depending on who I was speaking with. I think it really is a valid, powerful metaphor for intense, life-changing encounters with the Spirit, and I never want to discount, forget, or stop desiring those encounters. Being a Post-charismatic should never negate the desire for these encounters, and I hope we who look at that term as a valid term will always make that clear.

On another note, though, I believe that one should not expect one who follows the Spirit to always exist in a “wasted” state. There are times of wilderness and darkness and suffering, and those times do not negate the presence of God even though we may be gripping with our fingernails for evidence of it. I have spent time in the wilderness, both because of the leading of the Spirit (Hosea 2:14) and because of my own laziness and stubbornness, and I have learned wisdom and patience and peace from those times (not that I am always wise, patient, or peaceful, but more so than I would be otherwise).

Pentecostals and charismatics have often struggled in leading a balanced life in the Spirit. They have often sought to live in the clouds, wasted, above the messiness and pain of real life. Non-Pentecostals and non-charismatics have often resisted intoxicating experiences with the Spirit because of this (and other, less noble reasons). Both sides have lost, and both sides have much to learn.

Like some others, I do see a link between the worldwide pentecostal movement (counting Pentecostal denominations, and charismatic churches and movements, it now numbers more than 500 million people) and the emerging church. I believe that the emerging movement, as it develops around the world alongside postmodernism in the West and postcolonialism everywhere else, has the potential to be one of the steps that the Holy Spirit takes to resolve this tension and lack of balance that exists in the church.

As I’ve said fairly often on this blog, I met Jesus in a Pentecostal church, and went to a Pentecostal college for one of the degrees I earned. One of the really common parts of the Pentecostal and charismatic movements is revival. Seeking revival, predicting revival, announcing revival, and any number of other things.

What is revival?

The interesting thing is that there are as many definitions of what revival is as there are ways of looking for and identifying it. The Old Testament sees (thematically and linguistically) revival as restoring something to life - whether it is a person’s physical life, spiritual life, or the relationship of Israel to Yahweh.

The New Testament uses a word that is often translated as stirring up, or kindling (like a fire), and can also be translated as revival. So, a follower of Jesus can stir up the Spirit within her, and she is revived in this way.

Interestingly, nowhere does Scripture refer to revival as an event. It doesn’t speak of evangelists, or crusades, or altar calls, or anything else that we typically associate with it in modern, Western Christianity. Evangelists and altar calls and nightly meetings are not necessarily excluded from what revival is, but neither are they necessary.

In church history, revival typically comes when the church is at a low point, and a person or group of people begins to stir up the flame, and seek life in the Spirit. In some way, usually a way that is entirely unexpected, God responds.

Examples of this include the various monastic movements (especially the life and effects of St. Francis), the Protestant Reformation (especially the Anabaptists), the Methodist movement, several Great Awakenings, the birth of the Pentecostal movement in Wales and Los Angeles in the early 20th century, and the charismatic movement (and alongside it, the Jesus Movement) across mainline and evangelical denominations in the mid 20th century.

All of these examples, at their beginning at least, had two parts: personal and social. Many of the followers of Jesus in these movements saw visions, dreams, and had powerful encounters with the Spirit. They also experienced a renewal of desire to share their experiences with others, and started innovative churches and ministries, helped the poor and the outcast, and especially in the case of Azusa Street in Los Angeles, they saw that “the color line was washed away in the blood.”

Current revival issues

In the mid to late 20th century up to the present, the term revival has come to mean a lot less, and also a lot more. Now, it refers to a series of meetings with a guest preacher. Nothing really has to change at all, either inwardly or outwardly. If something is expected to change, usually it is narrowed down to physical healing.

There are still people who talk about revival in a more biblical sense. Graham Cooke is one of these, and defines revival as the restoration of the church’s passion for people who are far from God. Then, he sees a stage of reformation, where the effect of that passion goes out into society and changes people. Changes society, and influences it with the kingdom of God. And this, of course, is that second part of social influence.

What’s going on in Lakeland?

Lately, there has been a lot of talk about revival in Lakeland, Florida. Todd Bentley is leading this, and it has moved to the local (regional) airport, where there is not enough space to hold all of the people who want to be there.

I spent just over five years living in Lakeland, long enough to earn a couple of degrees, and earn some extra money to get out of Florida. When I first moved there to attend college, a group of people formed in a small coffeeshop to pray for revival. We wanted to pray for revival among ourselves, in our school, and in Lakeland itself. We kept this up for at least three years, maybe four, and we saw very little effect outside ourselves.

It’s interesting to look at what is happening in Lakeland (people coming from the outside, reports of miraculous things, and renewed and new passion for Jesus) from a distant perspective, and ponder whether or not this is the answer to our prayers. I have come to extreme respect for the wisdom of Robby Mac, and he has a recent post that I think has a very balanced perspective. In essence, he believes that the Spirit is, in fact, at work in Lakeland, but that his work there does not necessitate his approval of the theology or the methodology that is at work there, and it does not mean that people who want to be part of the work of the Spirit need to ignore their own sense of discernment.

And that’s a beautiful thing that I’ve taught, and have observed in my education and in various experiences in pentecost (referring to Pentecostal and charismatic things). God is less interested in perfecting our theology and methodology before he uses us than he is in using us while he changes us. There is great power in grasping that statement.

So, I would love to join some of my friends who are still in Lakeland, and have been to these meetings to see what God is doing. It’s wonderful to see a prayer like that being answered, regardless of how weird the answer is.

From Emerging Pentecostals:

…a conversation about emergence within a pentecostal framework would be helped greatly if we took some time to share our stories of emergence.

This is a wonderful idea, and I want to be a part of it. Thus, consider this my story of emergence, or of how I came to be involved with both the pentecostal church and what is commonly called the emerging church.

I met Jesus when I was just shy of fifteen years old, and met him through what you could call a dramatic encounter that took place in an Assembly of God church in Salisbury, North Carolina. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to be a part of the supernatural actions of God in the world. I wanted to be close to him in tangible ways, and I wanted to bring others to be close to him as well.

As my faith developed, I began to grow in some very specific ways that together have shaped the person I am now, almost ten years later. First, I began to seek out how I, specifically, should serve Jesus with my life. I looked into being a pastor, a missionary to an obscure country, and a number of other things, because I felt strongly that I was called to reach out to people that were far from God.

Finally, I found confirmation in the idea that I was called to reach the outcasts of our own society. The people who did not fit in with the traditional church, whether because the church rejected them, because they rejected the church, or both. This manifests itself in more ways today than it did ten years ago. At the time, most of this kind of ministry was happening in the various underground subcultures, and it still is. But now, it has moved significantly further into the mainstream with organizations like Emergent Village. In any case, my heart was inextricably linked to the underground, and it remains so now.

As I began to learn about this calling, I also began to learn that I had a passion for being at the cutting edge of whatever I could. I can still remember a message I heard that described the church of today as the kind of organization that would build a church at the site where Jesus performed some great feat, rather than following him to see what he would do next. I passionately want to be involved in the current mission of God in the world. I don’t want to be where God was five years ago. I want to know where his heart is today.

In addition to, and as part of, these previous things, I began to have a deep desire to communicate with love, grace, and power to people who did not yet know Jesus, that they might see him as he really is and give consideration to the kind of influence he would like to have on their lives.

These areas have been molded and shaped through education, experience, prayer, thought, and conversation over the last several years, but at their core they remain the same, and they are derived from a desire to live in intimacy with Jesus, thus my involvement with the pentecostal and charismatic church. I am well aware of the shortcomings of the movement, and at this point I identify far more closely with the term Post-Charismatic than with pentecostal or charismatic, but I am also aware that there is much good in the movement.

As for my involvement with the emerging church, it began through my desire to be a voice to the underground. For most of my life, I have fit with the underground, and I’m comfortable with this. I feel at home there. It’s natural that I would want to share what I believe is commonly hidden about Jesus from these unique people.

As I’ve said before, I have been blessed to be involved with the Underground Railroad and learn from and be in community with the wonderful ministries that are part of it. Many of these ministries have been around for decades, and have been doing the kind of ministry that is now known as “emergent” for longer than I have been alive.

Thus, I have come into the emerging church, and thus into Emergent itself, from what you might call a back door. I have learned ministry by grace, unconditional acceptance, and the power of authenticity from the underground, and have sought to learn how it fits with my personal theology, my personal experiences, and my personal areas of calling. Many other leaders of the emerging church, including Andrew Jones, also came to be involved in similar ways.

I feel that this is one of the most valuable facets of the emerging church and the Emergent conversation: that people who spend their lives reaching out to the darkest corners of western society can come together with people who study postmodernism in universities or painting in art schools, with people who understand that colonialism is dead and its obituary is the power of the non-Western world, with those who do research on the effectiveness of modern Christianity in the Western world, and with those who simply feel like something is missing from their normal church experience.

More interesting still, than these examples, is that no one fits into only one of these areas. For example, I have a passion for walking into dark places as a shadow of Jesus, but I also have a ministerial education from a pentecostal university, an art degree from a secular art school, and a weird job history of discussing theology and politics and philosophy for hours at a time while cleaning toilets and mopping floors. Emergence indeed.