Author Archive for Wolfgang Vondey

Wolfgang Vondey
Profile
Wolfgang Vondey was born and raised in Germany. He lived in Japan during the early 1990s and in 1996 moved to the United States, where he lives with his wife, Michelle, and son, Noah Alexander. After earning degrees in Japanese linguistics, Japanese Studies, and Media Sciences, he turned to theology when hearing God’s voice in a sugar cane field in Okinawa. Continuing to process this event and to discern God’s call, he earned a M.Div. from the Pentecostal Theological Seminary (formerly Church of God Theological Seminary) and a Ph.D. in systematic theology and ethics from Marquette University. He has taught at Lee University, Marquette University, and Boston College, and he now teaches courses in systematic theology and various doctrines at the School of Divinity of Regent University. Wolfgang once intended to become an artist and had several exhibitions featured in local newspapers in Germany but today finds little time to draw or paint. He is an avid cook and enjoys listening to music or working in the garden. He has published several books on theological themes and currently works on a larger project relating theology to the church, the sciences, and the public life. Wolfgang is the director of the Center for Renewal Studies at the Regent University School of Divinity.
Website
http://www.wolfgangvondey.info/

Wanted: Pentecostal Theology

Tuesday, June 28th, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

I have been reading Pentecostal works on systematic theology. I think I read all of them. There aren’t that many. What I am missing is any kind of idea of what exactly is Pentecostal about them. The order of topics, and much of the content, is not different from, say, a Millard Erickson text or a similarly widely used volume. At the same time as I am reading these texts, I am writing on a book that introduces Pentecostalism. “A Guide fo the Perplexed” says my subtitle. What perplexes me is that the things I wish to say, I cannot find in the theology books written by Pentecostals.

Yesterday, I was a discussion of my last book, Beyond Pentecostalism, and I was asked what exactly identifies a Pentecostal theology as Pentecostal. Perhaps the only thing that we can say today, I was told, is that the book is written by someone who is Pentecostal. But in the content we find very little that distinguishes it from other works. I am afraid, I tend to agree with this assessment. It’s not that Pentecostals do not have a particular form of theological reflection and content. It’s that they do not know how to express it.

Just open one of those books and see where it takes you. I wonder, how can a Pentecostal theology have no explicit chapter (!) on Jesus Christ at all (Duffield and Van Cleave’s Foundations of Pentecostal Theology) or put a chapter on Christ in the ninth place (Stanley Horton’s Systematic Theology)? Is a discussion on the unity, clarity, and authority of Scripture really the starting point of Pentecostal doctrine (Arrington’s Christian Doctrine, vol.1)? CanPentecostals afford to look at the table of contents and find no mention of the Holy Spirit (Hart’s Truth Aflame)? In other texts, I find descriptions of theological loci that remind me closely of Reformed teachings (Calvin’s Institutes are a popular model) or some other Evangelical model, but I look in vain for what makes this a Pentecostal text. (All this is not really new criticism; see Terry L. Cross, “Toward a Theology of the Word and the Spirit: A Review of J. Rodman Williams’s Renewal Theology,” Journal of Pentecostal Theology 3 (1993): 113-35.)

What I do not find is a theology that reflects the less vocal Pentecostal majority in the global South; African convictions, Latin American piety, and other non-academic perspectives are absent. The reason for this neglect may be that those Pentecostals do not write a systematic theology. But that should not exclude their voices. If the proper, Anglo-European formulations of Christian doctrine do not fit the Pentecostal ethos, then it is unlikely we can find the heart of Pentecostal theology in such endeavors.

What I do not find is a confidence in being Pentecostla that reflects in the manner doctrines are presented. Pentecostal spend far too much time with apologetics, explaining who they are and justifying their existence in light of the ecemenical traditions (I am guilty of that). It is time that we move ahead and stop apologizing for being Pentecostals and begin to do theology as Pentecostals.

What I do not find is an order of doctrines that truly reflects the priorities of Pentecostal thinking. We continue to adopt the way of ordering theological loci from others despite the fact that several Pentecostal theologians have already shown the negative impact such adoptions have on the preservation of the Pentecostal tradition to the next generation.

What I do not find is a way of speaking (or writing) that reflects a Pentecostal spirituality and cosmology. The way theology is done by Pentecostals most certainly impacts what Pentecostals say and the manner in which they communicate. I am hard-pressed to find a Pentecostal theology that does not seem to be “domesticated”.

To be sure, the reasons for these neglects are not solely found among Pentecostals. Just last week I was told by the senior editor of a major publishing house that Pentecostal texts do not sell very well. At some point, when this was true, Pentecostals found their way into the publishing arena by adopting the conventional way of theology. Today, this convential way has taken the life out of theological texts by Pentecostals. There is, as I was told yesterday, nothing particularly attractive about a Pentecostal book next to a non-Pentecostal book (especially if the other one carries a bigger name). Which one would you choose?

I wonder how the Society for Pentecostal Studies would respond to this assessment. Perhaps we are content with the current state of affairs? Perhaps we do not have the scholars in the field of theology that can write these kind of texts? Did Pentecostals fail to train their own as systematic theologians? Does the Pentecostal leadership in the churches assume that they are sufficiently trained to formulate Pentecostal doctrine? Can we afford to do theology without consulting those Pentecostals without academic training? Where will this lead us? I, for one, am tempted to put out a sign: Wanted! Pentecostal Theology!

Can you help?



Grading Time

Thursday, April 21st, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

It’s a difficult time: grading time at seminary. It’s not a time I enjoy. Grades divide.

Grades divide students into the good, the bad, and the ugly. Well, that’s tongue in cheek. But there are the groups of the A-students, the B-students and so on. Or sometimes just the geeks and the rest. More often than not, the students who excel in all areas find it difficult to join the majority groups. Jealousy, envy, and admiration form a complex divide.

Grades divide students from their teachers. The one gives the grade and the other receives. I would not give my wife or son a grade, but as a teacher I have to grade my students. Sure, my three-year old is not in a graduate degree program, but there is a similarity in relationship. I love my students. Well, most of them. Teaching theology is a significant responsibility. It is always as a person teaching persons that I engage my class. That can be parental love or brotherly love. Sometimes it’s tough-love, but nonetheless, it’s love. Sometimes grades tell the unpleasant story that a student may not be equipped for the graduate program at this time. Grades put everyone back in their place at the end of the semester. No matter how much you got around the table, in the end grades define your relationship.

Grades divide us from our calling. I have a standard question for students: what do you want to achieve in seminary or in my class? The answer is often associated with grades: I want to get an A. When I ask how the class was or the seminary experience as a whole, the evaluation often comes in terms of grades: I didn’t do as well as I wanted or I managed to keep a 4.0 GPA. That’s not what I mean, though. I am not at seminary to give grades but to teach. Students should not be at seminary to get grades but to learn.

Now that it’s grading time, I get numerous emails by students who want one or two or more points in their grades. Some ask to get a better grade or a specific grade. I wish I had received similar emails throughout the semester from students wanting to learn more, wanting clarity on ideas, theological constructs, doctrines, asking for a better understanding even (or especially) if their grades did not reflect their knowledge.

Now that it’s grading time, I wish I could go back and encourage students where I did not, critically engage them where I simply moved on, or question things I left open. I feel reduced in my relationship to numbers or letters. How can I preserve the relationship? How can students engage me without looking for a good grade? How can they give critical feedback without fear of retribution or positive feedback without coming across as wanting a good grade? How can we be persons in a shared journey of faith?

In the end, reviving seminary depends much on our attitude toward grades. I have to give them. Students have to get them. It’s in the manner we give and get that defines us.

Revival at Seminary

Monday, April 4th, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

What exactly is seminary education? If you asked me, I would say it is characterized by two key elements: ministry and academics. The question is how well these two elements are brought together. Too much ministry, and the seminary experience is not much more than an average Sunday School; too much academics, and students will find it difficult to connect the content of their classes with everyday life. There are many students who only know the ministry side of the faith, and who struggle with the academic dimension, just as there are those who come to seminary from an academic career and have little practical experience in church ministry. Renewing the seminary experience must speak to both groups! But how?

Increasing the academic side will perhaps nurture in some students interest in pursuing an academic career, perhaps in college teaching and scholarship. Increasing the ministerial dimension will likely challenge those academically trained to consider the practical implications of their knowledge. And yet, I do not believe that we should overemphasize seminary education as offering “practical theology” degrees as if there were such a thing as “impractical theology.”  In turn, we hardly want to encourage programs in “theological ministry” as if there were such a thing as ministry that is not-theological. A first step in the right direction is certainly to stop perpetuating the division of theology, academia, and praxis. Such language only leads to internal tensions and creates a mindset that artificially divides subject matter, classrooms, disciplines, and interests. Not to mention what kind of graduate would leave seminary if ministry and academics were not integrated holistically. Some may argue that this is precisely what is happening and that the seminary experience needs an overhaul. But little is offered to move forward.

The mindset of many seminary students, particularly in pentecostal and charismatic circles, may be that seminaries need revival. Okay. Let’s do it! But how exactly is it going to happen? What exactly do we mean by revival at seminary? Who would participate in such a revival? Where would it originate?

I am envisioning that some of you are now thinking of revival in the classrooms. So let’s stick with that image. What would that kind of revival look like? Do we envision worship music and praying, sermons, dancing, shouting and prophecies? What exactly is revived by that experience? I think if we drive these questions further, we discover that seminary is a place where revival must integrate ministry and academics and that it is precisely in these two aspects that the difficulties reside. Anyone who has ever been in an academic classroom and has sensed the prophetic or perhaps convicting or just simply gripping reality of a discussion knows how difficult it is to integrate the ministerial dimension in that moment without going fully to a revival experience that effectively marks the end of the class time. And yet, at such moments, we cannot simply carry on business as usual. And if we manage to move to a different level, perhaps a prayer or simply a moment of silence or a time of ministering to one another, how difficult is it to move back to the classroom? At the heart of these difficulties, is it not the tension we have created between what we call “ministry” and “academics” (as if one could exist without the other)? If I am right, then this is where revival at seminary begins. Not in chapel but in the classrooms. Who is going to initiate it? Who will recognize it when it happens? Where is it going to take us? These are not rhetorical questions. Unlike church, revival at seminary requires more careful planning. So perhaps that’s where we need to start?

Rebuilding Japan!

Monday, March 21st, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

There was a time when Japan was fashionable. During the 1980s, when I completed a degree in Japanese Studies, everything Japanese was all the rage. Japan was the business giant. “Made in Japan” became synonymous with quality and affordability. The Japanese way of life was admired and emulated (even if it was often romanticized). Japan was “in”; it was “cool” (in the language of the 80s). Japanese writings could be found on t-shirts, dishes, movies, and framed on the walls (even though the characters were often upside down). Japanese food became increasingly popular. And the demand for relations with the country and its people increased the demand for opportunities to study the language, the culture, and everything that made the country “different.” Japanese art was en vogue. And none more so than the traditional Japanese wood-block prints. In the early 19th century, the artist Hokusai (1760-1849) created “Mt. Fuji off Kanagawa,” popularly known in the West as “The Wave.” This is one of the best-known Japanese prints that with others of this period inspired the entire French Impressionist school. (I had it on a T-shirt while living in Tokyo.) Little did the artist imagine that this image would one day become the symbol of utter destruction. The wave of the tsunami that devastated the Japanese shoreline destroyed lives, buildings, and infrastructures. Japan has entered the greatest crisis of its history. The once fashionable country has become unfashionable. The world is fleeing Japan.

In the minds of the world, two images characterize recent Japanese history: the cloud of Hiroshima and the wave of the tsunami. This year, both images have come to overwhelm the country and spread fear across the world. No doubt, the image of Japan will have to be rebuilt. The two titles for Hokusai’s print in circulation reveal the options. Whereas the West has seen the wave as the centerpiece of the print, Hokusai was commissioned to create a series of views of Mt. Fuji. The mountain is the center of the image, not the wave. The real Japan is fashioned neither by iodide pills nor gas masks, neither by the cloud of radioactive material nor the devastating wave of the sea. The image of Japan is fashioned in the minds of the people. When the wave subsides and the cloud dissipates, the mountain will remain! But it is a different mountain this time. Mt. Fuji might as well represent the image of a new age. The world should become aware of what the crisis in Japan represents. 日本は現代世界のイメージ. Japan is the image of today’s world. The rebuilding of Japan begins in the minds of the world. Rebuilding Japan is a start to rebuilding the image of the world.

Let’s rebuild it together!

Renewing the Society for Pentecostal Studies

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

Chances are you have not heard of the Society for Pentecostal Studies. For some, the idea of Pentecostals engaged in scholarship may even seem contradictory. But nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, much of the creative theological thinking today is taking place among Pentecostals. The Society, founded in 1970, has moved far along since its early days and hosts an annual conference with hundreds of scholars. This week, March 10-13, 2011, the conference meets in Memphis, Tennessee, with the theme “Receiving the Future: An Anointed Heritage.” Check out the Society’s website!

Moving towards the half-a-century hallmark, the Society is subject to to the powers of change. One of the most visible changes is the age and diversity of scholars at the meetings. This transition offers an opportunity to revisit the self-understanding of the Society. I have attended the annual meetings for the past 15 years, and it seems to me that there are two kinds of attitudes dominant among scholars. We can characterize them by a different construction of the title of the Society. When asked what “SPS” stands for, you will readily get two different answers: Society FOR Pentecostal Studies or Society OF Pentecostal Studies. Considering that  single iota has proven significant in the history of Christian doctrine, it seems to me that the difference of an entire preposition should not be overlooked. So which is it, friends and colleagues? It is time to settle the question! Read the rest of this entry »

The Lord Is the Spirit by Andrew K. Gabriel

Monday, February 14th, 2011 by Wolfgang Vondey

Andrew K. Gabriel. The Lord Is the Spirit: The Holy Spirit and the Divine Attributes. Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2011. pp. 237. $27.00.

In a theological world increasingly interested in Pentecostalism and its celebration of the Holy Spirit, The Lord Is the Spirit represents an extraordinary contribution to the doctrine of God by a Pentecostal scholar. Gabriel’s account examines the divine attributes–omnipresence, omniscience, omnipotence, impassibility, immutability, and the like–and proposes that classical theism has not adequately taken into account the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. As a result, theology has overemphasized the transcendence of God. In response, Gabriel proposes that a pneumatological approach to the doctrine of God recovers an emphasis on divine immanence. The book offers a renewed emphasis on the Spirit in the understanding of the divine attributes and promises to do so from a distinctly evangelical and pentecostal perspective. What results from these efforts is a crisp, well-written, insightful, and highly instructive volume that should find its place into theological libraries not only among Pentecostals. The Lord Is the Spirit is a rewarding read for many audiences. Read the rest of this entry »