Revive Us Again

i) Pentecostalism suffers from unrealistic expectations. I think that's due in part to the fact that modern Pentecostalism was birthed in revival. The Azusa Street Revival is the best known, but that came on the heels periodic revivals, clustered close in time. Cf. G. McGree, Miracles, Missions, & American Pentecostalism (Orbis Books 2010), Part 1. 

For those who experience a Christian revival or live through that period, that's apt to foster false expectations. In the nature of the case, revivals are exceptional. That makes them a poor paradigm for normality. It's hard to go back to the humdrum of ordinary life after the revival dies down. 

It's tempting to think your revival is not exceptional. That Christian history has finally turned a corner. The "latter rain" and all that good stuff. That this is a decisive turning point in Christian history. Your generation is different. You're something special. 

The letdown is hard to take. Hence, it's tempting to artificially stoke the fire. 

ii) Cessationism is the polar opposite. A classically risk-adverse position. If you're expectations are low enough, you'll never be disappointed. Kind of like a misanthrope whose cynicism immunizes him from disillusionment. 

iii) Cessationists often frame the issue by saying charismatics judge by experience which cessationists judge by Scripture. There's sometimes a lot of truth to that invidious comparison. And sometimes not.

iv) In my observation, cessationists unconsciously judge by experience. For instance, when they judge Paul Cain by false prophecies or judge Pentecostal worship by "holy barking," that's judging by experience. 

And there's nothing wrong with that, as long as you don't fall prey to hasty generalizations. But I find it striking that many cessationists are oblivious to the fact that they, too, are judging by experience.

v) Another example is how some cessationists have a very narrow definition of prophecy. For instance, they typically define prophecy as "an infallible word from God" (or something along those lines). They think that's Biblical. They accuse charismatics of redefining prophecy.

What's ironic is that they didn't get that definition from reading the Bible. In Scripture, prophetic phenomena are much more varied. For instance, visionary revelation originally consists of images rather than words. No divine words at all. 

Likewise, there's a potential (and sometimes actual) distinction between revelatory dreams and inspired speech. For instance, Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar were both recipients of revelatory dreams. But when Pharaoh tells Joseph what he saw in his dreams, Pharaoh isn't speaking under divine inspiration. When Nebuchadnezzar tells Daniel what he saw in his dreams, he's not speaking under divine inspiration. The dream is inspired, but his own account of the dream is uninspired. The dream is prophetic, but he recounts the dream from memory. 

That stands in contrast to canonical prophets, for whom the vision and the record of the vision are equally inspired. Both visionary and verbal inspiration. 

So why do cessationists define prophecy in such unbiblical, reductionistic terms? That's a result of their experience. They've been conditioned to define prophecy that way by cessationist preachers or writers they've heard and read. 

The paradoxical thing about conditioning is that operates at a subliminal level. To be conditioned is to be unaware of your conditioning. It takes a conscious effort to reflect on your conditioning.