Coming To Terms With An Evangelical Heritage — Part 1
Pentecostals And The Issue Of Subsequence
Classical Pentecostals have long affirmed (1) a baptism in the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:5; 2:4) “distinct from and subsequent to” conversion; and (2) glossolalia is the “initial physical evidence” of this experience. This two-part article seeks to show why these two tenets of Pentecostal doctrine continue to be significant for contemporary Pentecostals and how they may be affirmed in a manner consistent with hermeneutical principles commonly accepted in the larger Evangelical world. Part one evaluates relevant portions of Gordon Fee’s recent book, Gospel and Spirit; part two interacts with various articles from the book edited by Gary McGee, Initial Evidence.
From the earliest days of the modern Pentecostal revival, Pentecostals have proclaimed that all Christians may, and indeed should, experience a baptism in the Holy Spirit “distinct from and subsequent to the experience of new birth.”1 This doctrine of subsequence flowed naturally from the conviction that the Spirit came upon the disciples at Pentecost, not as the source of new covenant existence, but as the source of power for effective witness. Although early Evangelical thinkers such as R.A. Torrey and A.J. Gordon also advocated a baptism in the Spirit subsequent to conversion, recent Evangelical theologians have generally rejected the doctrine of subsequence, particularly in its Pentecostal form. Influenced largely by James Dunn’s work, Baptism in the Holy Spirit,2 Evangelicals have commonly equated the baptism in the Holy Spirit with conversion; Evangelicals thus view Spirit-baptism as the sine qua non of Christian existence, the essential element in conversion-initiation.3
Although for years Pentecostals and Evangelicals were entrenched in their respective positions and seldom entered into dialogue, since 1970 this situation has changed dramatically. James Dunn’s sympathetic but critical assessment of Pentecostal doctrine (alluded to above) marks a watershed in Pentecostal thinking, for it stimulated a burst of creative theological reflection by Pentecostals. As a result, the theological terrain of today is considerably different from that of 20 years ago. Yet, in spite of significant changes, the issue of subsequence remains high on today’s theological agenda. This fact is reflected in Gordon Fee’s recent book, Gospel and Spirit, which contains two (previously published but updated) articles featuring this issue.4 A Pentecostal minister and noted Evangelical scholar, Fee has been an active and influential participant in the post-Dunn Pentecostal-Evangelical dialogue. While he speaks from inside the Pentecostal tradition, his viewpoint generally reflects prevailing Evangelical attitudes. I offer the following evaluation of Fee’s position on the doctrine of subsequence with the hope that it might highlight the major issues in the discussion. Specifically, I will argue that Fee’s discussion ignores important developments in New Testament and Pentecostal scholarship, and that when these are taken into consideration, Luke’s intention to teach a baptism in the Spirit distinct from (at least logically if not chronologically) conversion for every believer — the essence of the doctrine of subsequence — is easily demonstrated.
Fee’s Critique Of The Pentecostal Position
Fee has established a reputation for acumen in the area of hermeneutics, and his sympathetic critique of the Pentecostal doctrine of subsequence focuses on shortcomings in this area. He notes that Pentecostals generally support their claim that Spirit-baptism is distinct from conversion by appealing to various episodes recorded in the book of Acts. This approach, in its most common form, appeals to the experience of the Samaritans (Acts 8), Paul (Acts 9), and the Ephesians (Acts 19) as a normative model for all Christians. But Fee, following the lead of many Evangelicals, maintains that this line of argumentation rests on a shaky hermeneutical foundation. The fundamental flaw in the Pentecostal approach is their failure to appreciate the genre of the book of Acts: Acts is a description of historical events. Unless we are prepared to choose church leaders by the casting of lots, or willing to encourage church members to sell all of their possessions, we cannot simply assume that a particular historical narrative provides a basis for normative theology. Fee’s concern is a legitimate one: How do we distinguish between those aspects of Luke’s narrative that are normative and those that are not?
Fee’s answer is that historical precedent, if it is “to have normative value, must be related to intent.”5 That is to say, Pentecostals must demonstrate that Luke intended the various oft-cited episodes in Acts to establish a precedent for future Christians. Otherwise, Pentecostals may not legitimately speak of a Spirit-baptism distinct from conversion that is in any sense normative for the church. According to Fee, this is exactly where the Pentecostal position fails. Fee describes two kinds of arguments offered by Pentecostals: those from biblical analogy: and those from biblical precedent. Arguments from the former point to Jesus’ experience at the Jordan (subsequent to his miraculous birth by the Spirit) and the disciples experience at Pentecost (subsequent to John 20:22) as normative models of Christian experience. Yet these arguments, as all arguments from biblical analogy, are problematic because “it can seldom be demonstrated that our analogies are intentional in the biblical text itself.”6 These purported analogies are particularly problematic, for the experiences of Jesus and the apostles — coming as they do prior to “the great line of demarcation,” the day of Pentecost — “are of such a different kind from succeeding Christian experience that they can scarcely have normative value.”7
Arguments from biblical precedent seek to find a normative pattern of Christian experience in the experience of the Samaritans, Paul, and the Ephesians. Fee asserts that these arguments also fail to convince because it cannot be demonstrated that Luke intended to present in these narratives a normative model. The problem here is twofold. First, the evidence is not uniform: However we view the experience of the Samaritans and the Ephesians, Cornelius and his household (Acts 10) appear to receive the Spirit as they are converted. Second, even when subsequence can be demonstrated, as with the Samaritans in Acts 8, it is doubtful whether this can be linked to Luke’s intent. Fee suggests that Luke’s primary intent was to validate the experience of the Christians as the gospel spread beyond Jerusalem.8
This leads Fee to reject the traditional Pentecostal position. He concludes, a baptism in the Spirit distinct from conversion and intended for empowering is “neither clearly taught in the New Testament nor necessarily to be seen as a normative pattern (let alone the only pattern) for Christian experience.”9 Yet this rejection of subsequence is, according to Fee, really of little consequence. For the central truth, which marks Pentecostalism is its emphasis on the dynamic, powerful character of experience of the Spirit. Whether the Spirit’s powerful presence is experienced at conversion or after is ultimately irrelevant, and to insist that all must go “one route” is to say more than the New Testament allows.10 In short, Fee maintains that although Pentecostals need to reformulate their theology, their experience is valid.
Before we move to an assessment of Fee’s position, two points need to be made. First, although Fee suggests that his critique of subsequence does not impact the essentials of Pentecostalism, this claim is questionable. It should be noted that Fee’s position is theologically indistinguishable from that of many other Evangelical scholars, James Dunn in particular. His essential message is that Pentecostals have, in terms of theology, nothing new to offer the broader Evangelical world. While Pentecostal fervor serves as a reminder that Christian experience has a dynamic, powerful dimension, the theology, which gives definition and expectation to this dimension is rejected. Furthermore, Fee’s critique does not simply call into question the Pentecostal understanding of the timing of Spirit-baptism (that is, whether it is experienced simultaneous with or after conversion), but it challenges the Pentecostal understanding of this experience at its deepest level.
The central issue is whether or not Spirit-baptism in the Pentecostal sense (Acts 2) can be equated with conversion. Evangelicals affirm that the two are one, and Fee agrees, although he acknowledges that the dynamic, charismatic character of the experience (for a variety of reasons) in our modern context is often lacking. Fee’s affirmation, qualified as it is, still undercuts crucial aspects of Pentecostal theology. Pentecostals, as we have noted, have generally affirmed that the purpose of Spirit-baptism is to empower believers so that they might be effective witnesses. This missiological understanding of Spirit-baptism, rooted in the Pentecost account of Acts 1–2, gives important definition to the experience. In contrast to Fee’s vague descriptions of Spirit-baptism as “dynamic,” “powerful,” or even “charismatic,” Pentecostals have articulated a clear purpose: power for mission. When the Pentecostal gift is confused with conversion, this missiological (and I would add, Lukan) focus is lost. Pentecostalism becomes Christianity with fervor (whatever that means?) rather than Christianity empowered for mission. Furthermore, this blurring of focus inevitably diminishes one’s sense of expectation. For it is always possible to argue, as most Evangelicals do, that while all experience the soteriological dimension of the Pentecostal gift at conversion, only a select few receive gifts of missiological power. Fee’s effort to retain a sense of expectation — though rejecting the distinction between Spirit-baptism and conversion — fails at this point.
The bottom line is this: If Fee is right, Pentecostals can no longer proclaim an enabling of the Spirit which is distinct from conversion and available to every believer, at least not with the same sense of expectation, nor can Pentecostals maintain that the principle purpose of this gift is to grant power for the task of mission. To sum up, the doctrine of subsequence articulates a conviction crucial for Pentecostal theology and practice: Spirit-baptism, in the Pentecostal sense, is distinct from (at least logically, if not chronologically) conversion. This conviction, I would add, is integral to Pentecostalism’s continued sense of expectation and effectiveness in mission.
A second point is also imperative to note. Although Fee focuses our attention on an important issue, the nature of Luke’s theological intent, his critique is based on a fundamental presupposition. Fee repeatedly states, “In the New Testament the presence of the Spirit was the chief element of Christian conversion.”11 Indeed, Fee declares, “What we must understand is that the Spirit was the chief element, the primary ingredient,” of new covenant existence.12 This is Paul’s perspective and also Luke’s as well! Fee confidently writes, “On this analysis of things, it seems to me, all New Testament scholars would be in general agreement.”13 Thus, in reality, Fee’s article raises two important questions: first, did Luke intend for us to understand Spirit-baptism to be a gift distinct from conversion, granting power for effective witness, and available to every believer? And second, is it true that the New Testament writers uniformly present the gift of the Spirit as the chief element of conversion-initiation? The remaining portion of this essay will seek to address these questions. We shall begin with the latter question, since this touches upon a presupposition fundamental to Fee’s argument.
The New Context: Defining The Crucial Issue
As noted above, Fee’s critique of the Pentecostal position centers on alleged hermeneutical flaws, particularly the use of historical precedent as a basis for establishing normative theology. Fee skillfully demonstrates the weaknesses inherent in traditional Pentecostal arguments based on facile analogies or selected episodes from Acts. Here, we hear an echo of James Dunn’s timely critique of arguments for subsequence based on a conflation of John 20:22 with Luke’s narrative in Acts.14 When originally published, Fee’s articles, painful though they might have been, served a valuable purpose: They challenged Pentecostals to come to terms with the new and pressing questions raised by their Evangelical brothers. These questions were all the more urgent in view of the rapid assimilation of the Pentecostal movement into mainstream Evangelicalism, a process, which by the mid-70s was largely complete. Perhaps because of his position as an ‘insider,’ Fee was thus able to give voice to a much needed message: No longer could Pentecostals rely on the interpretative methods of the nineteenth-century Holiness Movement and expect to speak to the contemporary Evangelical world — a world which, with increasing vigor, was shaping the ethos of Pentecostalism.
Yet the theological landscape, which Fee surveyed in the mid-70s and 80s, has changed considerably. The simplistic arguments from historical precedent, though once the bulwark of Pentecostal theology, have been replaced with approaches that speak the language of modern Evangelicalism. Although, perhaps this is not entirely true when it comes to the question of tongues as initial evidence, it is certainly the case for the doctrine of subsequence. Roger Stronstad’s The Charismatic Theology of St. Luke illustrates this fact.15 Published in 1984; it marks a key shift in Pentecostal thinking. Stronstad’s central thesis is that Luke is a theologian in his own right and that his perspective on the Spirit is different from — although complementary to — that of Paul. Unlike Paul, who frequently speaks of the soteriological dimension of the Spirit’s work.16 Luke consistently portrays the Spirit as the source of power for service. My recently published monograph, The Development of Early Christian Pneumatology with Special Reference to Luke-Acts, also highlights the distinctive character of Luke’s pneumatology.17 The book’s thesis corroborates that of Stronstad’s, for I have argued that Paul was the first Christian to attribute soteriological functions to the Spirit and that this original element of Paul’s pneumatology did not influence wider (non-Pauline) sectors of the Early Church until after the writing of Luke-Acts. The crucial point upon which Stronstad and I agree is that Luke never attributes soteriological functions to the Spirit and his narrative presupposes a pneumatology, which excludes this dimension (for example, Luke 11:13; Acts 8:4–17; 19:1–7). Or, to put it positively, Luke describes the gift of the Spirit exclusively in charismatic terms as the source of power for effective witness.18 Luke’s narrative, then, reflects more than simply a different agenda or emphasis: Luke’s pneumatology is different from — although complementary to — that of Paul.
It is not within the scope of this essay to substantiate this description of Luke’s pneumatology. I can only direct the reader to the fuller discussions presented in the books cited above. Nevertheless, I would like to show how this assessment of Luke’s pneumatology provides a biblical foundation for the doctrine of subsequence.
From a biblical perspective, the key question is: What is the nature of the Pentecostal gift (Acts 2)? It is abundantly clear that Luke intended his readers to understand that this gift (whatever its nature) was available to — and indeed, should be experienced by — everyone. Fee and virtually all Evangelicals assert that this gift is the chief element of conversion-initiation. Although most Evangelicals acknowledge that divine enabling is prominent in the narrative, this aspect of Luke’s account is generally regarded as a reflection of his special emphasis. It is assumed that Luke and Paul shared essentially the same pneumatological perspective, and thus broader, soteriological dimensions of the Spirit’s work are also understood to be present. The universal character of the Pentecostal gift is then easily explained: All should experience the gift because it is the means by which the blessings of the new covenant are mediated.
However, the description of Luke’s pneumatology outlined above challenges this Evangelical assessment of the Pentecostal gift. For if Luke views the gift of the Spirit exclusively in charismatic terms, then it is not possible to associate the Pentecostal gift with conversion or salvation. Indeed, by placing the Pentecost account within the framework of Luke’s distinctive theology of the Spirit, Pentecostals are able to argue with considerable force that the Spirit came upon the disciples at Pentecost, not as the source of new covenant existence, but rather as the source of power for effective witness. And since the Pentecostal gift is charismatic rather than soteriological in character, it must be distinguished from the gift of the Spirit which Paul associates with conversion-initiation. Here then, is a strong argument for a doctrine of subsequence-that is, that Spirit-baptism (in the Pentecostal or Lukan sense) is logically distinct from conversion. The logical distinction between conversion and Spirit-baptism is a reflection of Luke’s distinctive theology of the Spirit.
Note that this argument is not based on biblical analogy or historical precedent. It does not seek to demonstrate that the disciples had received the Spirit, at least from Luke’s perspective, prior to Pentecost. Nor is it dependent on isolated passages from the book of Acts. Rather, drawing from the full scope of Luke’s two-volume work, it focuses on the nature of Luke’s pneumatology and, from this framework, seeks to understand the character of the Pentecostal gift. The judgment that the gift is distinct from conversion is rooted in the gift’s function: It provides power for witness, not justification or cleansing. The universal character of the gift established in Luke’s narrative rather than historical precedent is the basis for its normative character.
All of this indicates that Fee’s critique of Pentecostal hermeneutics, focused as it is on naive appeals to historical precedent, fails to address today’s crucial question: Does Luke, in a manner similar to Paul, present the Spirit as the source of new covenant existence? Fee, as we have noted, assumes this to be the case, and confidently declares that on this point “all New Testament scholars” would agree. Yet this confident statement, quite apart from the two Pentecostal studies noted above, ignores a significant group of New Testament scholars. Over a century ago Herman Gunkel reached very different conclusions; and he has been followed in more recent years by E. Schweizer, David Hill, Gonzalo Haya-Prats, and Max Turner, all of whom have written works which highlight the distinctive character of Luke’s pneumatology.19 The real issue centers not on hermeneutics and historical precedent, but rather on exegesis and the nature of Luke’s pneumatology.
Establishing Luke’s Intent
The question of Luke’s intent, which looms so large in Fee’s argument, is clearly subordinate to the more fundamental question outlined above. For if our description of Luke’s distinctive pneumatology is accurate, then Luke’s intent to teach a Spirit-baptism distinct from conversion for empowering is easily demonstrated. One need only establish that Luke’s narrative was designed to encourage every Christian to receive the Pentecostal gift. And, since Luke highlights Pentecost as a fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy concerning an outpouring of the Spirit upon “all flesh” (Acts 2:17–21), this appears to be self-evident. According to Luke the community of faith is, at least potentially, a community of prophets; and, it was his expectation that this potential would be realized in the church of his day as it had been in the past (for example, Acts 2:4; 19:6). Although numerous other texts might be cited in support of this conclusion, we shall limit our discussion to three representative texts.
1. Luke 3:16. John the Baptist’s prophecy concerning the coming Spirit-baptizer is recorded in the New Testament in two forms:
Mark 1:8: He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit (NRSV).
Luke 3:16,17/Matthew 3:11,12: He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire (NRSV).
Synoptic studies indicate that when Luke wrote, he had the Gospel of Mark and another source, Q (the overlap between Matthew and Luke), before him.20 This being the case, the question may be asked: Why did Luke choose to follow the Q form of the saying rather than the Markan form? It is a striking choice in view of the fact that Luke, in a manner similar to Mark, emphasizes the positive aspects of John’s prophecy. Thus, both Luke and Mark describe John as preaching the “good news” (Mark 1:1; Luke 3:18). And yet, the Q form of the saying, with its reference to “fire” and the winnowing metaphor, highlights the negative or judgmental aspect of the prophecy. The question becomes even more pressing when we remember that Luke refers only to a baptism of Spirit, with no mention of “fire,” in Acts 1:5 and 11:16. What was so significant about the Q account that, in spite of these incongruities with his own view, Luke chose to follow it?
The answer is found in the importance Luke attached to the winnowing metaphor of Q. For Luke, the winnowing metaphor was essential if the true significance of the future Spirit-baptism was to be recognized. The winnowing metaphor specified that the deluge of Spirit, initiated by the Messiah, would sift the people of Israel. Threshing involved tossing the grain into the air with a wheat shovel. This was done so that the wind might separate or sift the grain from the chaff.21 The double meaning of ruach/pneuma as “Spirit” and “wind” may well have been on the mind of the Baptist and later picked up by the Synoptists. In any event, this thought of sifting is vital to Luke’s interpretation of the bestowal of the Spirit on the disciples at Pentecost: “John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit … But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:5, 8). Just as John prophesied that the Spirit would sift and separate, so also Luke understood the Pentecostal bestowal of the Spirit to be the means which would separate the righteous remnant from the chaff (compare Luke 2:34f.). John did not specify how this sifting would occur, alluding to the Spirit’s role in the coming apocalypse only in very general terms; however, in light of Pentecost, Luke interprets the Spirit-empowered mission and preaching of the disciples to be the means by which this sifting occurs.22 For this reason the Q version, with its winnowing metaphor, was of vital importance to Luke. It pointed to the decisive role which the Spirit would play in the Early Church: As the source of the supernatural guidance of the mission of the church and its inspired proclamation of the gospel, the Spirit was the catalyst of the Christian mission and, as such, an instrument of sifting.
Thus, in Luke’s perspective, John’s prophecy finds initial fulfillment at Pentecost and continuing fulfillment in the Spirit-empowered mission of the church. The final act of separation, the destruction of the unrighteous in the fire of messianic judgment, still awaits its fulfillment. While it is likely that John viewed the sifting activity of the Spirit and the consuming activity of the fire as different aspects of one apocalyptic event, Luke has separated them chronologically in view of the ongoing mission of the church. In this way, Luke emphasizes the relevance of John’s prophecy for his church and, by implication, encourages his church to experience the power of Pentecost. Luke’s perspective is clear: Until the final act of judgment takes place, the Spirit will continue to enable the church through the power of Pentecost to fulliI1 its divinely appointed role.
2. Luke 11:13, A comparison of Luke 11:9–13 with Matthew 7:7–11 indicates that Luke has altered the source, commonly referred to as Q, which he and Matthew follow at this point.23 Luke changes the “good things” found in Matthew/Q to the “Holy Spirit.”
Matthew 7:11: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him” (NRSV)!
Luke 11:13: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him” (NRSV)!
Luke’s alteration of the Matthean/Q form of this saying anticipates the post-resurrection experience of the church. This is evident from the fact that the promise that the Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask begins to be realized only at Pentecost. By contemporizing the text, Luke stresses the relevance of the saying for the post-Pentecostal community to which he writes. In brief, in this passage Luke encourages his readers (who are Christians!) to ask for the gift — for the Spirit — which would enable them to be effective witnesses (Luke 12:12; Acts 18).
3. Acts 2:38,39. Luke’s intent to teach the normative character of the Pentecostal gift is nowhere more clearly evident than in Acts 2:38,39. The “promise” of the Spirit is explicitly stated to be “for all whom the Lord our God will call” (Acts 2:39). An examination of the relevant texts reveals that “the promise of the Father” (Luke 24:49, Acts 1:4; compare 2:33) and “the promise” with reference to the Spirit (Acts 2:38f.) find their origin in Joel 2:28: “I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy … ” (NRSV). Evangelicals commonly interpret the Lukan promise of the Spirit (Luke 24:49; Acts 1:4; 2:33, 38f.) against the backdrop of Genesis 17:7–10, Ezekiel 36:25f., and Jeremiah 31:33f. On this basis, they describe the Pentecostal gift as “the means whereby men enter into the blessings of Abraham” and “the essence and embodiment of the new covenant.”24 Yet this interpretation ignores prevailing Jewish expectations concerning the end-time bestowal of the Spirit, which center upon Joel 2:28 and the restoration of the Spirit of prophecy.25 More importantly, this interpretation ignores the evidence from Luke’s own hand (Acts 2:17–21). According to Luke, the promise with reference to the Spirit refers to the gift of the Spirit of prophecy promised in Joel 2:28. This promise, which is initially fulfilled at Pentecost (Acts 2:4), enables the disciples to take up their prophetic vocation to the world. Although the Lukan “promise” of the Spirit must be interpreted in light of Joel’s promise concerning the restoration of the Spirit of prophecy, Acts 2:39 does include an additional element. In Acts 239 Luke extends the range of the promise envisioned to include the promise of salvation offered in Joel 2:32 (as well as the promise of the Spirit of prophecy in Joel 2:28). Note how Acts 259 echoes the language of Joel 2:32/Acts 2:2l: “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” In Acts 2:39 Luke extends the range of “the promise” to include this salvific dimension because the audience addressed are not disciples. Yet we must not miss the fact that “the promise” of Acts 239 embraces more than the experience of conversion. Consistent with Luke 24:49, Acts 1:4, and 2:33, the promised gift of the Spirit in Acts 2:39 refers to the promise of Joel 2:28, and thus it is a promise of prophetic enabling granted to the repentant.26 The promise of Acts 239, like the promise of Jesus in Acts 1:8, points beyond “the restoration of the preserved of Israel”: Salvation is offered (Joel 2:32), but the promise includes the renewal of Israel’s prophetic vocation to be a light to the nations (Joel 2:28).27
These three passages then, each in its distinctive way, reflect Luke’s intent to teach a Spirit-baptism distinct from conversion for empowering. These passages also support our claim that Luke’s pneumatology is distinct from — although complementary to — that of Paul. For in each of these passages Luke presents the Spirit, not as the source of cleansing and a new ability to keep the law, but rather as the source of power for effective witness.
Pentecostals are seeking to come to terms with their Evangelical heritage. Gordon Fee’s recent book, Gospel and Spirit, represents the quest of one respected scholar. When the essays contained in this book were originally written, they provided a valuable service. They helped Pentecostals recognize their need to address the new and pressing questions raised by their Evangelical brothers. Fee’s quest encouraged others to make the journey. Yet the theological landscape has changed considerably since the initial publication of Fee’s articles. And, although these articles have been updated, they do not show an awareness of the new terrain. Thus they address concerns that have little relevance. Today, the crucial issue centers not on hermeneutics and historical precedent, but rather on exegesis and the nature of Luke’s pneumatology. If Fee and Evangelical scholars wish to engage in meaningful dialogue with contemporary Pentecostal scholarship, they will need to address this issue.
1. Minutes of the 44th Session of the General Council of the Assemblies of God (Portland, Oregon, August 6–11, 1991), 129.
2. James D.G. Dunn, Baptism in the Holy Spirit (London: SCM Press, 1970).
3. Although Pentecostals represent a diverse sub-group within Evangelicalism, for the purpose of this paper we shall distinguish between Pentecostals (assuming their identification with traditional Evangelical values) as those who affirm a baptism in the Spirit subsequent to conversion and Evangelicals as those who do not subscribe to this view.
4. Gordon Fee, Gospel and Spirit: Issues in New Testament Hermeneutics (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1991). Chapters 6 and 7 are updated versions of the following articles: “Hermeneutics and Historical Precedent — A Major Problem in Pentecostal Hermeneutics” in ed. R.P. Spittler, Perspectives on the New Pentecostalism (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1976), 118–132; “Baptism in the Holy Spirit: The Issue of Separability and Subsequence,” Pneuma 7:2 (1985), 87–99.
5. Fee, Gospel and Spirit, 92.
6. Ibid., 108.
7. Ibid., 94.
8. Ibid., 97.
9. Ibid., 98.
10. Ibid., 111.
11. Ibid., 98. For statements reflecting this presupposition see pp. 94, 98, 109–l 17.
12. Ibid., 114.
13. Ibid., 115.
14. Dunn, Baptism in the Holy Spirit, 39.
15. Roger Stronstad, The Charismatic Theology of St. Luke (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1984).
16. Paul presents the Spirit as the source of cleansing, justification, and sanctification (for example, 1 Corinthians 6:11).
17. Robert Menzies, The Development of Early Christian Pneumatology with Special Reference to Luke-Acts (JSNTSup, 54; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991).
18. Fee states that he strongly agrees “with Stronstad on the ‘charismatic nature’ of Lukan theology” (Gospel and Spirit, 101). Yet Fee does not appear to understand Stronstad at this point, for he states elsewhere that Luke, in a manner similar to Paul, viewed the gift of the Spirit as “the chief element of conversion and the Christian life” (Gospel and Spirit, 98). These two statements are, in reality, contradictory. When Fee speaks of the “charismatic nature” of Luke’s pneumatology, he appears to mean that Luke associates charismatic (as well as soteriological) functions to the Spirit.
19. H. Gunkel, The Influence of the Holy Spirit (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979; original German ed., 1888); E. Schweizer, “pneuma,” TDNT, VI, 389–455; D. Hill, Greek Words and Hebrew Meanings (Cambridge: The University Press, 1967); G. Haya-Prats, L’Esprit force de l’eglise (Paris: Cerf, 1975); and M.M.B. Turner, Luke and the Spirit: Studies in the Significance of Receiving the Spirit in Luke-Acts (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of Cambridge, 1980).
20. I understand Luke’s literary activity with respect to Luke-Acts, including the manner in which he uses his sources (see Luke 1:1–4), to be inspired by the Holy Spirit, So also, when I refer to “Luke’s theology” I am referring to a theological perspective which is inspired by the Spirit and authoritative.
21. See Isaiah. 41:16; Jeremiah 4:11; Marshall, Commentary on Luke, 148.
22. J. Jervell, Luke and the People of God: A New Look at Luke-Acts (1972), 49: “Above all, [Luke] wants to describe what happened to Israel through the Christian missionary preaching. The picture is clear: Israel has not rejected the gospel, but has become divided over the issue.” See also D.L. Tiede, “The Exaltation of Jesus and the Restoration of Israel in Acts 1,” HTR 79 (1986), 283.
23. There can be little doubt that Matthew’s “good things” represents the original wording of Q. Matthew follows his sources closely with reference to the Spirit: He never omits a reference to the Spirit which is contained in his sources and he never inserts pneuma into Markan or Q material. Luke, on the other hand, inserts pneuma into Q material on three occasions (Luke 4:1; 10:21; 11:13) and into Markan material once (Luke 4:14). Our judgment is confirmed by the awkwardness of Luke’s construction: The insertion of “Holy Spirit” breaks the parallelism of the a-minore-ad-maius argument which links the “good gifts” given by earthly fathers (Luke 11:13a–Matthew 7:11a) with the “good things” given by the heavenly Father (Luke 11:13a–Matthew 7:11a).
24. Dunn, Baptism in the Holy Spirit, 47,48.
25. Menzies, Development, 104–111.
26. Lake and Cadbury, The Beginnings of Christianity, vol. 4, p. 26.
27. Tiede, “The Exaltation of Jesus,” 278–86.