God. Real. Right.

The Incompatibility of a Christian Perspective of the World and Sign Gifts
(published in the Criswell Theological Review, Fall 2006)

See this post for a very brief overview of the position taken in this article

Kenneth Copeland is preaching. Mid-sentence he pauses, looks upward, smiles, appears to acknowledge something, then utters a string of unrecognizable syllables. Next he looks at a man on the front row of the congregation to which he is preaching and says something like, "Brother, the Lord says it’s going to be alright. He says He’ll handle this just like He handled things in the past. Just turn it over to Him." The man receiving this word of knowledge nods, appearing to understand exactly what the word is about. Copeland goes on to complete a sermon about as biblical as any typical evangelical service today.

How are believers to take such expressions today? Are they simply a continuation of what is typified by Agabus in Acts 21? Or are they somehow an errant imitation of what ceased at some point between the time of the New Testament and now? To hold that the answer to the first option (that they are a continuation) is affirmative is Continuationism, herein also simply continuation. To hold that the answer to the second option (that they are an imitation of what ceased) is affirmative is Cessationism, herein also simply cessation. Of course, continuation and cessation deal with much more than the word of knowledge. They deal with all kinds of gifts whose expression involves the miraculous—that is, their expression manifests supernatural involvement for some purpose beyond the accomplishment of the presenting task. With the illustrative word of knowledge, for instance, there is not only the conveyance of information to the recipient, something which could presumably have been accomplished without the mediation of Copeland, but also perhaps the affirmation either of the preacher’s authority to speak the words or of the authority of the words themselves, or perhaps the provision of a more general message to the congregation as a whole through the very specific message to the direct recipient. Perhaps the further accomplishment of the word of knowledge is simply a confirmation to the congregation that God is still supernaturally active in the world. The point is that the gifts in question, whether prophecy, healing, tongues, or the word of knowledge, involve the supernatural and some purpose in addition to their manifestation. They are, in short, signs.

The point of this argument is that the second option is the correct one—that is, that such gifts are errant expressions of something that ceased sometime between the New Testament and the present day. To claim that the religious and emotional expressions of around a half billion people¹ are errant could be either extremely deleterious or extremely important to Christianity. It is not, however, at least in this article, to attack either their sincerity or the mode of their expression. Every kind of Christian expression has its charlatans, and every group of believers has the possibility of being infected by infidels. So whether a certain practitioner of a sign gift is sincere or not, deceived or not, or even a Christian or not, is not the issue. Neither is it the issue whether the contemporary expressions of gifts (especially tongues) are authentic forms of New Testament practices. Whether tongues is a heavenly language, a prayer language, or an evangelistic language unlearned but known does not change this argument at all. If cessation is true, none of those practices of tongues is justifiable as a sign of anything. The illustrative case of the word of knowledge provided above (excluding the eruptive tongues) is ideal for the purpose of this article because the utterance itself can be taken as consistent with biblical teaching (believers ought to trust the Lord with difficulties and believe that His faithfulness will continue), because it is presumably offered benevolently for the purpose of edifying a brother, and because there is no reason to doubt that the word found some kind of application in the recipient’s life (maintaining at least the appearance that God spoke to him). With all of those concerns out of the way—given a circumstance where sign gifts complement rather than contradict scripture, where they are practiced only for the edification of the church or the conviction of the unbelieving, and where the supernatural element at least cannot be dismissed outright—is there still a reason to claim that they are errant expressions of Christianity? Yes, there is. But it will take some work to get there.

Before that trek, however, it must be admitted that there is no simple point-and-shoot passage to resolve the issue. Just about everyone readily admits that some gifts and activities cease at some point. An early and significant influence on the Pentecostal movement, A.B. Simpson, explains why some gifts continue when others cease.

Why then cannot the dead be raised now as in the days of Christ and His apostles? There is nothing to render such an occurrence impossible, but there is at the same time no Scriptural authority to justify our claiming it. The command to exercise this ministry was given to the twelve apostles, not to the seventy. And the time for the resurrection of Christ’s people is distinctly stated thus: “Afterwards, they that are Christ’s at His Coming.”²

It seems that the question is not whether certain gifts will cease, but rather which gifts will cease and when. Cessationists have been drawn to 1 Corinthians 13 in the past. But that passage offers very little help to the cause of cessation, and has in fact more recently been turned to the use of continuation. The argument looks something like this: The Cessationist argues that verses 8-10 clearly indicate that while love will never fail, prophecy and knowledge will be stopped and tongues will cease whenever the perfect has come. Since the Cessationist in this case identifies the perfect either with the completion of the canon or the death (and therefore completion of the work) of the last apostle then the sign gifts (at least prophecy, tongues, and knowledge) must cease then. W.A. Criswell’s treatment of this argument from 1 Corinthians 13 is as clear as any:

The speech of the child (the gift of tongues) is no longer needed in the mature man (the church beyond its infant stage). The understanding of the child (the gift of prophecy) is no longer needed in the full-orbed revelation of God (the church with the completed, written Word). The thinking of the child (the gift of knowledge) is useless in the maturity that accompanies God’s final, revealed will (the church with the fullness of inspired revelation). These gifts belong to the infancy, the babyhood of the church. In maturity they are no longer needed.³

Very simply then, the argument goes, the church does not need sign gifts once the canon is complete (or the role of the apostles is satisfied), and therefore the Holy Spirit no longer provides those gifts. They cease.

But the Continuist quickly points out that the best contextual explanation for when the gifts cease in that passage is neither the completion of the canon nor the end of the apostolic period, but the perfection apparently described by the phrase “then face to face” or “then shall I know even as also I am known” in verse 12. Either of those phrases provides a good foundation for arguing that the perfection Paul has in mind is the completion of the saints at the return of Christ. Not only does that reading undermine the Cessationist reading of the passage, it actually establishes grounds for a positive Continuist argument. The gifts may cease, the argument goes, but not until the Parousia. C. Samuel Storms (representing the “third wave”) makes this position perfectly clear in his contribution to the Counterpoints series on this topic. “And despite the controversy that still surrounds it, I remain convinced that 1 Corinthians 13:8-13 dates the cessation of the charismata at the perfection of the eternal state, consequent upon Christ’s return.”⁴

Although he does not anticipate this argument directly, Criswell’s line of reasoning does explain why he does not identify the Parousia as the moment when the gifts cease. In the paragraph immediately following the one cited above he puts the perfection of verses 12-13, seeing and knowing and understanding “fully and completely”, parallel to the examples of perfection in verses 10-11, leaving the relationship between the sections of the passage open.⁵ His reading is not the best defended or most accepted today, but neither is it difficult to see. The point is that there is not a definitive conclusion to be made from 1 Corinthians 13 about when the sign gifts cease. Richard Gaffin states succinctly that neither this passage nor Ephesians 4:11-13 (whose mention for him also identifies the continued gifts with the continuation of apostleship) addresses whether the sign gifts will cease before the Parousia.⁶

The lists of spiritual gifts provided in the New Testament also provide little help regarding this question. It is obvious that no list is complete in itself and that no list provides any distinguishing characteristic of gifts that would cease. But neither is there sufficient continuity between the lists to argue that they represent either a complete set of gifts during New Testament times or that they represent a consistent set of gifts to be expected throughout the (then) future of the church.

Studying individual passages throughout the scriptures leads to much the same result. But while that frustration might reveal a lamentable side-effect of current hermeneutical practices (that is, having so much hermeneutical humility that there is no willingness to state what something means with conviction), it does not leave Christians without a biblical approach to the issue. Robert Saucy explains where Christians looking for a biblical answer might turn:

How and even whether these gifts are to be used in the ministry of the church today is for many (including myself) problematic. Since Scripture does not provide explicit teaching on all the issues involved, we must seek answers from a broad consideration of biblical teachings that impinge on various related topics as well as from the experience of the church.⁷

He is largely correct. Certainly, a direct exegesis or exposition of a single passage is the most authoritative and desirable way to form an argument regarding any theological issue. That lacking, a larger hermeneutical treatment of a variety of passages within their historical context might help. It is important to note that acquiescing that there is not a single, brief passage which pointedly addresses this issue is not the same as admitting that the Bible gives no direction to it. But rather than squeezing the Bible into something which can convulsively fit this issue, it might be better to re-frame the issue so that it is something addressed by the scriptures. It is the claim here that there is something about recognizing certain gifts as supernatural or miraculous (in contemporary terms) which is unbiblical (or at least inconsistent with a biblical perspective). And in truth, when people claim that a gift is miraculous in nature, they inherently mean something more than they recognize. So to do justice biblically to the topic of whether miraculous gifts continue in the church today it is necessary to address what is meant by a gift being supernatural or miraculous, what more is implied by that meaning, and then to consider whether that meaning and its implication—the things which underlie contemporary views of continuation—describe things that are scripturally sound. Obviously, the point here is that they do not. And if that point is correct, then whatever properly continues as a gift in the church today is at least argumentatively unrelated to the things being defended by Continuists and practiced among their congregations. More strongly, though. if the point of this argument is correct, those “gifts” are actually unjustifiable.

The basic question on the table should be whether God still gives supernatural gifts as signs. “As signs” simply means that they indicate something beyond the content of the act associated with the gift itself (for instance, the content of the prophecy). The words are not as presumptuous as a discerning Continuist reading them here might think. But they are essential to the discussion as both the introduction above mentions and sections below reiterate. (It takes that significance to make a gift miraculous rather than simply supernatural.) Regardless, having included those words in the basic question means that there are now two separate topics: first, whether God still gives supernatural gifts; and second, whether He gives them as signs. For each question, the answers are simply enough either “yes” or “no”, and each answer has certain implications for the argument at hand.

Often arguments for cessation look like arguments against supernaturalism. But only the most radical of Cessationists–in truth Deists–can argue that there is no supernatural involvement in the world today. By and large, though, cessation advocates anything but such a view. B.B. Warfield’s classic polemic against Pentecostalism and Christian Science is a perfect example. That God acts supernaturally is without dispute “—for no one who is a Christian in any clear sense doubts that God hears and answers prayer for the healing of the sick in a generally supernatural manner—”.⁸ No, traditional arguments against continuation hinge on the essential purpose of sign gifts, the ceasing of that purpose, and therefore the ceasing of the sign gifts. This position is certainly Warfield’s.

How long did this state of things continue? It was the characterizing peculiarity of specifically the Apostolic Church, and it belonged therefore to the Apostolic age—although no doubt this designation may be taken with some latitude. These gifts were not the possession of the primitive Christian as such; nor for that matter of the Apostolic Church or the Apostolic age for themselves; they were distinctively the authentication of the Apostles.⁹

That position does not die with Warfield. Richard Gaffin’s argument is as remarkable in its similarity to Warfield’s as it is distinctive in its more exegetical and eschatological presentation and defense.¹⁰

For Gaffin, it is important to reiterate in the heart of the tradition of cessation that miracles authenticate or validate most directly the messenger. More specifically, the miraculous gifts indicate the fulfillment of Jesus’ prediction that the apostolic program would be accomplished as it is in the book of Acts.¹¹ The point is that sign gifts indicate apostolic authority, a position comfortably consistent with 2 Corinthians 12:12 (about which there is more to say shortly). But apostolic authority implies ongoing specific revelation, and that ongoing revelation threatens the authority of the completed canon—a thing valued at least partly because it records apostolic doctrine.

This level of the argument, a level on which Gaffin does not leave it, is susceptible to some criticism. First, the original claim, that sign gifts indicate apostleship, must be overextended to serve the purpose of cessation. That is, to claim that sign gifts authorize messengers is not the same as claiming that those messengers are apostles. (Actually, that relationship is defensible, but not obviously so at this point in the discussion.) To say that every apostle is validated by sign gifts is not the same as claiming that every sign gift indicates apostleship. So, the Continuist can argue that a sign gift could legitimate the bearer of a revelation which does not change anything essential about the gospel or one which addresses some contextually specific non-biblical issue without infusing the authority of an apostle on the gift-bearer. Whether that distinction is theoretically or practically meaningful is addressed below.

In the Counterpoints book on this subject, Saucy presents the “Open but Cautious” view, consistent with many contemporary evangelicals. Interestingly, his and Storms’ respective treatments of 2 Corinthians 12:12 help to clarify this debate (i.e., whether sign gifts imply apostleship, or only accompany it). Saucy casually interjects that “miracles are accrediting signs related to the apostles,” referring specifically to 2 Corinthians 12:12, then goes on to argue extensively that the presence of signs implies the authority of a prophet, which he identifies more with the authority of inscripturation than with the title of apostle, but still to the same conclusion.¹² Storms, on the other hand, points out that the dative of the “signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds” at the end of the verse distinguishes them from the signs in the nominative form at its beginning. That is, the Saucy-type reading might paraphrase 2 Corinthians 12:12 to “Indeed, the signs of an apostle—signs, and wonders, and powers—were worked among you with all patience”; while a Storms paraphrase might come out to “Indeed, the signs of an apostle were worked among you with all patience accompanied by signs and wonders and powers.” Storms is arguing that the accompanying signs are indicators only that the apostles were legitimately Christian apostles, not that they were apostles in distinction to other Christians.¹³ In Storms’ view, the signs would indicate the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit, so only an apostle who is truly a Christian could have them. But Christians who are not apostles could also have them, especially if or since they have the Holy Spirit.

As mentioned above, the contention is that apostolic authority carries with it a uniqueness identifying the orthodoxy of Christianity. Even many (perhaps most) of those who favor continuation do not favor the idea that apostleship continues to this day, a situation which would make it difficult if not impossible to maintain anything stable or distinctive about Christianity or the gospel message.¹⁴ Those who do favor the continuation of apostleship do so with the acknowledgment that apostolicity carries authority, although not necessarily the authority associated with inscripturation.¹⁵ That authority is central to apostolicity is not an issue. That authority is at least an important indication of sign gifts is not much of an issue. But whether miraculous gifts can authorize certain believers without giving them the authority otherwise reserved for apostles is. Paul’s argument in Galatians 1:6-12 certainly seems consistent with the desire to maintain a unique authority for the message of the original apostles. The authority with which Paul speaks is the distinguishing characteristic of the gospel and it is distinguished by his having received it from Jesus Himself. So the approach of Continuists, to make apostleship a non-essential indication of sign gifts, is important to the palatability of their position, not to mention the stability of the gospel as it is presented in the world.

So is Storms correct in the distinction he makes about 2 Corinthians 12:12’s nominative and dative “signs”? It is possible that the signs (nominative) Paul has in mind are the fruits of his preaching, holy lifestyle, and his suffering, as Storms contends.¹⁶ But in the immediate context it seems much more likely that Paul is identifying the signs of an apostle with the signs, wonders, and powers at the end of the verse. The dative form of those words does not prevent them from being semantically appositional, especially in light of the nature of signs as instruments toward something signified. To say “by signs, wonders, and powers” is to refer to the individual signs played out through the apostle’s ministry, while to say the “signs of an apostle” is to refer to the signification of those individual acts. The signification (a part of being a sign) is therefore facilitated by the signs. Although the explanation may seem intricate, it is the more natural way to read the passage. There is certainly no reason to assume “accompanied by” as the implication of the dative form, which is what Storms does to create the distinction between the nominative and dative forms. The point so far is that traditional arguments for cessation hinge largely on the apostolic nature of the gifts and the purpose of the apostles as the foundation of the church, in the words of Ephesians 2:20. It is not impossible to defend from Scripture the uniqueness of the role of the apostles or the role of sign gifts uniquely authorizing them. But it is not impossible to question that position from Scripture either. Then below it will be important to consider whether it is possible to acknowledge sign gifts without also dangerously acknowledging what amounts to apostolic authority.

But the other half of Gaffin’s argument, the eschatological half, is also important. His eschatological argument comes down to two most critical claims. First, since Pentecost is a part of the historia salutis (the history of the ultimate act and purpose of redemption) rather than a part of the ordo salutis (the order in which the elements or events of redemption happen in an individual) Gaffin argues that it does not make sense for individual believers to search for a repetition of the events of Pentecost.¹⁷ (Gaffin 30-31). For the believers to be baptized with the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 is for the work of Christ’s death and resurrection to be completed. For Gaffin Pentecost is no more repeatable as an event than the resurrection of Christ. The fact that individual believers participate in (or become identified with) Christ’s death and resurrection at their own conversion matches what should be expected of their inclusion in the baptism of the Spirit at their conversion. The climax of salvation history—the crucifixion, resurrection, and reception of the Spirit—is realized in the individual at conversion. To the Cessationist, no subsequent Spirit baptism makes sense. The point is that Pentecost is a unique event in the historical march toward eschatological fulfillment. To claim that Pentecost ought to be sought for or that individuals or congregations ought to pray for or experience Pentecostal revivals is to allegorize the event rather than recognize it for what it is from Luke’s pen. There is much more to Gaffin’s eschatological argument worth discussing, such as the idea that sign gifts do not work in the “already” sense of the kingdom,¹⁸ but not time to do so here. It will suffice to say that healing (as healing), for instance, only addresses a temporal need, and only addresses it temporarily. The healing is not eschatological, but instead temporary in nature. Healed paralytics die, and not even Lazarus is around today. Those gifts, then, are important not because their manifestation accomplishes some otherwise unobtainable goal (a patent falsehood) but because they signify the authority of the actor within that transitional period of kingdom history.¹⁹ Paul’s pronouncement of blindness on Barjesus in Acts 13 is a case in point. Its impact on Barjesus is unknown (apart from his temporary blindness). But for the proconsul Sergius Paulus who had called to hear the Word of God from Paul and Barnabus the impact is obvious, giving authority to the apostolic messengers. In that light, there is no reason to expect those kinds of miracles to continue. Their purpose ends with the authorization of the apostles, a goal achieved during their lifetimes.

This eschatological section of the argument is also important to the first part of the original question (whether supernatural gifts are given at all) because of the implication it has for sign gifts. Since sign gifts indicate apostolic authority which carries with it the heft of inscripturation, and the scriptures are completed, then there must not be any more sign gifts. That abbreviation of the classical argument for cessation invites the Continuist’s second objection. The fact that one purpose for sign gifts has ceased is no reason to believe that there cannot be another purpose for them. So these arguments that sign gifts served a purpose unique to the apostolic period of redemptive history does not exclude the possibility that they could serve another purpose now.

Regarding tongues, for instance, Storms argues that even though tongues might not have been provided originally for the church, there is no reason to believe that they could not be used in a manner beneficial to the church.²⁰ Why else would interpretation be provided? However, to construe that gifts never intended for the church (although Storms uses the interpretation argument to say they must have been intended also for the church) are reordered for the temporary benefit of it is not to say that there is a sufficient reason to expect their continuation, especially since the only sufficient purpose for their presence has ceased. Such a discussion (of the value of gifts in light of their purpose) is appropriate since Paul uses exactly this tactic to make his point in 1 Corinthians 14. Whether tongues as a gift could have a legitimate value for the church is not the issue to be resolved at this moment. Rather, the point for the moment is that it is appropriate to use purposes to discuss the legitimacy of gifts. But to make the discussion of their purpose more precise, it (the purpose of any sign gift) must be parsed into at least two elements: the purpose of the activity itself, and its purpose as a sign. To say that the purpose for the activity itself might be plural, or might change over time is certainly defensible (a nod for Storms). But the purpose of a sign gift as a sign is so specific that there is no latitude for adjustment, the point of the next section of this discussion.

How does any of this discussion affect the question of whether God gives supernatural gifts at all? It addresses the question profoundly by clarifying what is otherwise a sterile distinction between the supernatural and the miraculous. To say that something is supernatural implies nothing about what is manifest about it. The forgiveness of sins is a supernatural act of God. But it is not manifest. The parting of the Red Sea, on the other hand, is supernatural and profoundly manifest, obviously miraculous. But there is more to the distinction. To say that something is miraculous is to say specifically not only that whatever is supernatural about it is manifest, but also that this manifestation of the supernatural is intentional, serving some purpose beyond the act itself. In other words, not only is the supernatural act important, but its manifestation is intentional, which means that it is significant. The fact that what are today referred to as miracles are in Biblical language either signs, wonders, or powers (or powerful deeds) should make the point well enough.

Since the content of a miracle, the manifest accomplishment of some natural phenomenon through obviously supernatural means, is not itself sufficiently justifiable (not only because of its non-eschatological nature, but because at the least it points to the intent and power of an actor), it only remains that it is significant of something else—that it is a sign of something else. Suppose the miracle is the healing of a broken leg. To say that the miracle is only about healing the leg is to remove any significance (not just technically) whatsoever from it as a miracle. The miracle becomes nothing more than the healing of the leg on its own, or through natural means (a term to be qualified below). The essentially miraculous nature of the healing is equivalent to the recognition that something beyond the leg’s recovery has taken place—something transcendent to the physical phenomenon.

That transcendence is either intentional or it is not. If it is not intentional, then its effect should not be observed as a miracle, but rather a quirk or inexplicable singularity. But if it is intentional, then the options for interpreting that intent are either extremely limited (validating the messenger/bearer or his message) or absurdly boundless (whatever the perceiving subject imagines). The point is that something about whoever (it makes no sense to speak of intention without personality) intended it or something about whatever was intended become the things signified by the miracle—hence the term “sign” and the specific discussion of “sign gifts”.

Now the answer to the first question and the significance of the second can be addressed. Does God give any supernatural gifts at all? If the answer is no, then cessation automatically follows and there is no further need for argument. However, to adopt that answer would be to reject entirely God’s involvement in the church—a position untenable within genuine Christianity. So it is safe to say that the answer to the first question is yes. It will be even more obvious why the answer is emphatically yes below. But that answer does not resolve the issue of cessation or continuation. It only forces the second question, whether those gifts are miraculous, or more precisely to the point, whether God gives any gifts as signs.

Saucy presents the Cessationist distinction very well even though he is not fully committed to the Cessationist position. “While I totally agree that believers should experience the supernatural (not necessarily the miraculous), the model of a two-stage experience for the believer in the church is in my mind not sustained by Scripture.”²¹ While his rejection of a “two-stage experience” is right and important, there is not space to discuss it here. But importantly, he recognizes that believers ought to experience the supernatural but not necessarily the miraculous. The idea is that rejecting the validity of miraculous gifts is in no way a rejection of supernatural gifts. Every spiritual gift is a supernatural gift. But only sign gifts (including word gifts) are miraculous gifts.

Saucy’s description of the distinction between the two designations reveals a problem with contemporary definitions of the miraculous and, it is contended here, the reason for the “open but cautious” unwillingness to dismiss sign gifts outright. “While this power [i.e., for ministry] is necessary for the exercise of all spiritual gifts, it is most evident in those gifts that require the supernatural for their explanation, that is, the miraculous gifts.”²² Presumably Saucy has in mind that the supernatural exists whether revealed or not, and that miracles are simply the occasionally manifest product of the supernatural at work in the natural world. But this leaves a serious question either about the nature of a miraculous gift (or sign gift) or about how a Christian could experience the supernatural without the miraculous. That is, Saucy believes miracles imply the supernatural. Using careful reasoning he recognizes that the converse is not necessarily true—that is, that the supernatural does not necessarily imply the miraculous. However, the question which must then be addressed is exactly how any explanation of the experience of the supernatural (an experience which should be universal to believers) could exclude any essential characteristic of what is miraculous. To be clear, Saucy is not guilty of a logical error. But his very precise use of the miraculous in distinction to the supernatural is right at the heart of the problem for anyone who wishes to define sign (or miraculous) gifts so that a discussion can proceed without equivocation. As the following paragraphs contend, the only distinction which can be maintained once a Christian attitude toward the world is adopted is between sign gifts and other spiritual gifts, not between the miraculous and the supernatural.

Here two topics merge to create a picture of what a Christian’s attitude toward spiritual gifts ought to be. The first topic is supernaturalism in general; the second, the nature of living options. The issue of supernaturalism is about the general demeanor biblical Christianity demands toward the objects and events that create the context in which Christians live every day. Despite their best intentions, most American Christians²³ are caught in the wake of the Enlightenment. In that wake they believe that God acts only sporadically to intervene in the otherwise mundane and natural affairs of men. That view is incompatible with biblical Christianity. Whether through the declaration of Colossians 1:16-17 or of Acts17:28, there is no doubting that the biblical picture of God’s involvement in the world is much more active (even all-encompassing) than most contemporary Christians’. Recognizing God’s activity in all of creation is part of having a Christian worldview. To think there is anything going on in the world without God’s supernatural agency involved in it is to misunderstand the relationship between the Creator and His creation. Christians ought not be Deists or even remotely Deistic.

To be slightly more pedantic about the issue, though, Christians ought to recognize something David Hume pointed out (not a claim repeated every day): that all the things that appear to be naturally related as causes and effects are in reality only the things observed so constantly juxtaposed in space, subsequent in time, and repeated in history that observers have attributed natural causation to them.²⁴ Certainly, Hume cannot be accused of having a Christian perspective. But his skeptical argument actually has great value for Christianity. The direction of the West since the Seventeenth Century has been away from acknowledging the necessity of God’s constant activity maintaining (deliberately continuing to cause) His creation. Hume’s argument can be a reminder that the only real distinction between the natural and supernatural (or parallel, between the mundane and the miraculous) is that observers are used to seeing the things they begin to call natural. Not only is it a reminder, though, it also provides a devastating insight into what happens as Christians begin to see the world largely void of God’s activity, only occasionally touched by His miraculous involvement—they become secular in their perspective. It is that perspective which first mars the debate regarding “miraculous” gifts. Only either an immature or a secularized and largely deistic Christian would see an essential distinction between the manifestation of the supernatural in, say, healing on the one hand and teaching on the other. The only legitimate essential distinction between those kinds of gifts is their significance—that is, that they signify something about the gift-bearer.²⁵ To be sure, the unusual display afforded by the sign gift is what draws attention to the gift-bearer and therefore to the authority with which he or she acts. But that the gift is manifestly supernatural is a statement about he observer, not the gift. No gift is any more manifestly supernatural than its observers are unaware of God’s ubiquitous activity.

Now the second issue, genuine options, comes into play. Although it is important not to read contemporary perspectives back onto the Scriptures, there are sometimes contemporary tools helpfully descriptive enough that they can clarify otherwise muddled issues. William James provides such a helpful tool regarding options and evidence. In his address on “The Will to Believe” he identifies a genuine option as one which is living, forced, and momentous.²⁶ His contribution to this debate is just that simple. The purpose of signs regarding the apostles is not to convince the Jews or pagans that they are the true emissaries of God, but rather to demonstrate that the option that they are sent from God is a genuine one. In addition it is very important to recognize that the purpose of a sign from a biblical perspective is not to make the supernatural a genuine option (it is one already), but to legitimate signified gift-bearers as voices which ought to be heard or at least considered as representatives of the divine.

Although the world has become largely naturalistic, sign gifts are necessarily excluded from being re-purposed to make the supernatural a genuine option. As helpful a reminder as Hume provides to believers above, so daunting (but accurate) an adversary is he regarding the message of “miracles.” Hume demonstrates successfully that miracles are not a sufficient indicator of the supernatural.²⁷ Flowing from his arguments about causation and induction, he points out that either there is insufficient evidence to believe an anecdote about a miracle or there is sufficient evidence to believe it is natural. But there is no reason to be bothered by his critique of miracles. He misunderstands their purpose. They never were intended to make supernaturalism defensible (a purpose worth discussing, but not at issue here). Their purpose regards which god is authoritative or real, not whether a god is authoritative or real. And their purpose in gifts regards which messenger is legitimate, not simply whether a messenger has supernatural connections. The Samarians recognize pagan Simon as the “power of God” before being confronted by the true power of God in the apostles and their representatives. But that puts the signification of the “miraculous” in an even narrower bind. It is inherently about legitimating the gift-bearer as a genuine option to observers. But because the sign gift is not about whether the gift-bearer has supernatural power or not,²⁸ it is necessarily only about whether the gift-bearer himself or whatever the gift-bearer represents ought to be considered a genuine option.

But this purpose is inherently at cross-purposes with the original intent of the signs: to authorize the message for the purpose of making the new covenant, as Jesus and the apostles proclaimed it, a genuine option. It is not a surprise that Jews would believe Jesus blasphemous for declaring Himself the Son of God or for making Himself equal with God. The surprise is that some would consider His miracles sufficient to make such a dangerous claim a genuine option.²⁹ Of course, the danger disappears with the truth of the proposition. It is that kind of transformational ideology signs make possible—not as proof, but as indicators that something otherwise not even on the table may have to be considered a genuine option. Mark 2 provides a perfect example. Those to whom the sign (the healing of the paralytic) is directed are stubbornly unbelieving. Not only do they not believe that Jesus is able to forgive sins, but his ability to do so is not a viable option for them—at least not before the sign is given. Jesus does not say he offers the sign to cause them to believe. He offers it to prove that they must deal with what they continue to reject. He says he offers the sign “in order that you may know that the Son of Man has power to forgive sins.”

The genuineness of an option today can only be attested by the power of the Word. That sign gifts somehow prove the supernatural is a genuine option is both unbiblical and unsound. That they somehow complement a scripture made a genuine option by the uniqueness of the signs and wonders associated with it is self-contradictory. For a messenger of God to be authenticated as a genuine option now is precisely for him to be scripturally sound. Any sign of his authority external to scripture necessarily undermines scripture as the authority.

Once signs are dismissed as having the authority to transform fundamental doctrine—once they are no longer given in order to make even a radically distinctive doctrine a genuine option—then the interpretation of the ubiquitously supernatural activity of God is no longer about interpreting events, but applying the message already received (the Scriptures) to the events already volitionally and accurately believed to be supernatural.

This perspective makes anecdotes useless regarding the debate. Anecdotal evidence of signs as signs is absolutely worthless. Storms’ use of Spurgeon³⁰ is a perfect example. He tells of Spurgeon pointing to a shoemaker he did not know and pronouncing accurately the sinfulness and frustration of keeping his shop open on Sundays. Yet it is no more necessary to see the miraculously prophetic in that pronouncement than to see the merely coincidental every time a person says to a preacher, “You preached that sermon right to me.” Such a circumstance, even if accurately (though certainly subjectively) described provides no evidence of supernaturalism (that is, the event is exactly as supernatural as everything else happening that day) and certainly signifies nothing other than that the person recounting it makes something of it.

The self-contradictory premise that some gifts could have the authority of signs yet not the authority to diminish Scriptural sufficiency is apparent in the indefinite form of signs among Continuists. To be more specific, in a movement where there is no possible authority over a sign (because if it is a sign it must serve as the authorization), it is impossible to limit or define either which activities or events are significant or what might be the content of their signification. Both limitations are serious problems for Pentecostal, charismatic, and third-wave forms of Christianity. The ouster of the Toronto congregation from the Association of Vineyard churches in 1995 serves as a perfect example.³¹ Regardless of the reasons ultimately given for the disassociation, it reveals the ironic inconsistency of proposing emergent phenomena as spiritually significant then trying somehow to limit their significance based on a standard (such as the Scriptures) which often does not address the signs at all, and never addresses them as signs in the contemporary context (that is, where the genuineness of the option of Christianity is already present in the form of Scripture). Whether “holy laughter” or animalistic sounds ought to be accepted practices in churches is problematic at best. Some activities can be evaluated based on their incompatibility with the Scriptures. But to allow them as signs of anything, especially presuming them somehow to signify godly spirituality, is to remove any real standard of evaluation or authority. Claiming that it is good to promote individual expression does nothing to address the concern that many individuals do not express godly spirituality.

It is not the point here that aberrant Christian practices necessarily exclude the practitioners from Christianity as a whole. Whether charismatics of any brand have contributed positively to the culture or the kingdom is not in dispute here. To analogize, there is an enormous and influential congregation in the city where this article is being written. Their doctrine excludes the Trinity—an essential element of orthodox Christianity. It is undeniable that they have influenced the community and culture around them. It is at least arguable that they have had a positive impact on Christianity in this community. But there is no denying that their rejection of the Trinity ought itself to be rejected by Christianity as a whole. Not mincing words about the gravity of their error neither questions their sincerity nor God’s ability to work in spite of it.

Working back out from the original question, then, the answer to whether miraculous gifts continue is almost meaningless, and certainly not theologically helpful. Since they do not continue as signs and there is nothing else to distinguish them from the other gifts (all of which are supernatural) then there is no point in dwelling on their miraculous nature.

The two issues discussed above (supernaturalism and genuine options) then lead to a Christian attitude both toward gifts and the supernatural. Recognizing the difference between acknowledging that God acts supernaturally and claiming that God is signifying something through that act inherently leads to a rejection of sign gifts and an embracing of God’s supernatural power. Put succinctly, either believers must embrace a secularism which allows miracles to have a sufficient significance to make orthodox doctrine vulnerable (such as the Jews’ belief that no man should make himself equal with God), or they must embrace a universal supernaturalism sufficient to see that everything that happens is part of the deliberate activity of God. The question then becomes what a believer is to make of the supernatural events surrounding his life, not which events surrounding his life are supernatural.

Either sign gifts express nothing in addition to the word, or their expression is impossible to authorize or validate. If somehow the Word could be taken to explain the significance of a contemporary act or event, then the act or event would not give the meaning of itself; the Word would. If the sign speaks independently of the Word, it becomes either as insignificant as its meaning is subjective or as dangerous to orthodoxy as its meaning is authoritative. That fact is not just an indictment of potentially heretical signs. It is an indictment of anything significant beyond the Word itself. The word of knowledge is a good example. There is no essential element of a prophecy or word of knowledge to make it a sign. Given a word of knowledge, how is a Christian to take it as significant. Does he believe it because it is spoken by a leader whose lifestyle validates his words (Hebrews 13:7)? Then the word of knowledge is not authorizing anything; the speaker’s lifestyle is. Does he believe it because it is consistent with Biblical teaching? Then the word of knowledge is not authorizing anything; the Scriptures are. Only if a hearer believes what is inconsistent with scripture in spite of a speaker’s own testimony could the word of knowledge be said to be significant in itself—a scenario which should make the intrinsic conflict between sign gifts and evangelical Christianity obvious.

Suppose the gift of healing is given today. Fine. But it is not given as a sign. So Pastor Bob visits member Joe at the hospital. He prays for him to be healed—perhaps even lays hands on him or anoints him with oil. And suppose Joe gets well. If Joe sees things as a mature Christian, he will know that he did not just get well. He will know that God healed him. But he will not know it because Pastor Bob touched him or prayed for him, but because he knows every good gift is from God (James 1:17). Further, he may know that the Pastor’s prayers (as well as his own) were as significant as passages like James 5:15-16 indicate they are. He will be grateful to God for answering prayer and for his healing. And he will be grateful not only to Pastor Bob but also to others who prayed for him. But he will not attribute to the prayer, touch, or any other act of Pastor Bob any greater significance than the consolation, comfort, and fellowship of Philippians 2:1-4 or the social aspect of every Christian’s approach to God in, for instance, Matthew 18:19-20; admissions which are, by the way, ample.

Storms’ evaluation of prophecy is a good example of this difficulty for Continuists. He claims that prophecy is “profitable and to be prized (1 Cor. 14:1, 39; 1 Thess. 5:20).”³² What in the present day makes prophecy distinct (significant) from, say, teaching? With teaching, the authority of what is taught or claimed from Scripture is public—a written word. But the supposed revelation of prophecy is private. The “prophet” may speak publicly, but it being revealed to him is as private as his own consciousness. Then where is the sign? And where is the indication that the speech should be prized? The speech is as valuable as it is scriptural—no more; no less. Where is either the sign or the validation of the utterance? It is certainly not in the private revelation—it is private. Neither is it in the fallible perception, interpretation, or application (fallibilities recognized by those who believe in the contemporary gift of prophecy) of that revelation to the hearer. There is nothing significant that can be attributed to contemporary, post-biblical, prophecy. But that admission is no loss at all. It may be why Peter completes his analogy about false prophets from the past with false teachers in the future in 2 Peter 2:1-2. While these arguments do not logically exclude any gifts from contemporary possibility they do exclude them from being signs within any scripturally-grounded Christian tradition.³³

What of Agabus’ prophecy in Acts 21:10-11? First, he prophesies consistently with Paul’s own apostolic claim in Acts 20:23, so it is not difficult to see his ministry in the “umbrella” of apostolic ministry. But equally importantly, although Luke records Agabus’ words with genuine authority, nothing about Paul’s plans or commitment changes because of what is said either by Agabus or by the other believers who encourage him not to go to Jerusalem. That lack of change does not necessarily mean Agabus’ words are not important. But they are not a sign in themselves, and certainly not independently of Paul’s prior affirmation. The only certain significance they have is that they are consistent with Paul’s words.

To summarize: for God to act in a supernatural way is necessary a priori. For a benevolence (whether surprisingly supernatural or apparently mundane) to be attributed to God should be automatic, as James 1:17 implies. But for a supernatural act of God to merit the claim of intrinsic significance—that is, for it to have the authority of a sign—would be for that act to move its observers (and even those in its periphery) to judge irrationally (not necessarily a bad thing) that whatever the sign attests to is genuine. What does that scenario really mean? It is actually quite simple. Ask a true Cessationist if anything could change his mind about cessation and he will most likely respond negatively. But the truth is that if he indubitably experiences the death of someone for, say, three days, and then with the same indubitability experiences that person’s resurrection, then he will be ready (albeit irrationally) both to grant the significance (and therefore miraculous nature) of the event and to recognize any content of the claims associated with it as a genuine option. In short, if he is willing to acknowledge that there are signs, he must be willing to add a book to the Bible. After all, a new book can be a complement to the rest of Scripture as well as any authoritative expression of “miraculous gifts”. To be perfectly clear about the intention of this claim: it is absurd to evangelical Christianity to believe that the church should be open to add a book to the canon. And it is therefore equally absurd to advocate any “miraculous” act as sufficient to signify the authority of the actor or the revelatory value of any message he may have (the only options for the sign). Even if a spiritual gift whose original purpose was bound in being a sign is given today, it cannot be as a sign.

Christians can serve one another in all kinds of ways. But when one Christian wants or needs to exercise authority over another, there is only one source for that authority, and it is illustrated in 1 Corinthians 14:36-37. “Was it from you that the word of God first went forth? Or has it come to you only? If anyone thinks he is a prophet or spiritual, let him recognize that the things which I write to you are the Lord’s commandment.” Can the Lord speak directly to people today? Of course He can. But does that speech ever signify anything more than that the recipient experienced it? No. Only the Scriptures carry that kind of authority. Can God work through people in whatever fashion He chooses today? Of course He can. But is that work a sign either to the actor or the recipient? If either God’s supernatural activity is pervasive or the gospel message fixed, then no. And as it turns out, both are the case.