Restoration

Our church has been heading in a new direction. Monday night prayer has been touch point for healing, prophesy and miracles. Here is some of the theological dialogue that has caught my attention.

Many of my peers have adopted something of a restoration theology, which in my understanding has widened simple penal substitutionary gospel to a restoration gospel. The mantra of this thinking has been "kingdom come" - believers aren't waiting for the sweet bye and bye, they are praying for it to fall out of the sky today. I guess this way of thinking is not so much new but revived: God's glory is to restore a fallen world. We are invited to join his cause.

After a long season of wrestling I too feel passionate about all of these ideas.

This central concept is either a chicken or an egg for a generation who seems more concerned about poverty, the environment and social justice than their parents.

Though most of this dialogue is at least beginning to cement in the "main-stream" evangelical worldview and interesting question has been posed to me.

What about healing?

If our litmus test for holy social living is simply the question "does sex trafficking happen in the Kingdom of Heaven?"


No.


So the commission of the gospel/good news is that the Lord Jesus has empowered the church to eradicate it in Jesus name.

Are their leapers in the Kingdom of Heaven?

This question is pesky to a group of intellectual Christians who might frown at the extacies of the Spirit usually employed by a more heart-driven set of believers; to them these practices might be the fruit of a community plagued with instant gratification.

But how can we theologically separate social healing from physical healing in the story of restoration?

As a matter of fact, if God whispered in my ear that one of them was not a part of his commission for us, I would hesitantly have to choose the social element simply because Jesus healed so daggon much.

I Kingdom of Heaven is hear, you're healed.

They came to him by the hundrends and he healed them.

On and on.

What do you think? Is there a theological basis for my discomfort with the mystical side of God or is that just my personal taste?