The Spirit and the Word: Rethinking “Divine Revelation” in Light of Scripture and Pentecostal Traditions

Introduction: The Problem of Misunderstood Terminology

The Christian tradition has always been a people of the Word and the Spirit—formed by divine truth and enlivened by divine presence. Yet, in many contemporary contexts, especially within some Pentecostal and Charismatic circles, a troubling confusion persists around the meaning of core theological terms. Words like theology, illumination, revelation, and interpretation are frequently used in ways that blur or distort their historic meanings. Perhaps no term better captures this confusion than “divine revelation.”[1]

In my own Classical Holiness-Pentecostal upbringing, “divine revelation” was often used to describe a moment of spiritual clarity—a flash of insight one receives while reading Scripture, praying, or listening to a sermon. It was treated as a kind of “spiritual download,” unmediated by methodical study or interpretive care. The impression was that studying too much might hinder the Spirit, that scholarly reflection somehow threatened spiritual vitality. As a young Christian, I once used the phrase “divine revelation” during a friendly but emotional exchange with a brother from another tradition. I meant it in the way I had understood it—in reference to the Spirit enlightening my heart to the truth of Scripture. But he interpreted my words in their more formal theological sense, and assumed I was denying the sufficiency and finality of the biblical canon. Misunderstanding bred distrust, and what could have been a fruitful conversation ended in confusion and suspicion.

This anecdote may seem minor, but it illustrates a deeper concern: how easily we can talk past one another when we don’t share the same theological language. Misused terms don't just obscure truth—they can open the door to doctrinal error and spiritual disorientation. When we misunderstand what it means to say God has revealed Himself, we risk confusing spiritual insight with new, extrabiblical revelation—or worse, with our own imaginations.[2]

This reflection offers a clarifying call. Drawing from the Scriptural witness and the classical Christian tradition, it seeks to distinguish between the formal doctrine of Divine Revelation and the vital, Spirit-led process of “illumination.”[3] My aim is not to attack Pentecostalism—my roots run deep in that tradition—but to offer a more faithful, biblical framework for understanding the Spirit’s role in how we come to know God. If we desire genuine renewal, we must recover a theology of revelation that is both Spirit-filled and Word-saturated. And we must remember: the same Spirit who reveals truth today does so in the same cultural-historical and theological context in which He inspired the biblical authors—He is not the author of confusion but of continuity (1 Cor. 14:33).[4]

Pentecostal Misunderstandings: The Case of “Divine Revelation”

Pentecostalism, especially in its Classical Holiness expressions, has been a powerful movement of renewal—marked by fervent prayer, revival preaching, sacrificial mission work, and a deep hunger for the presence of God. I owe much of my spiritual formation to this tradition, and I remain grateful for its emphasis on holiness, consecration, and the vibrant work of the Spirit. However, one of the enduring theological concerns within many Pentecostal contexts is the tendency to conflate the spiritual experience of insight with the formal theological category of Divine Revelation.[5]

Within many Pentecostal circles, “divine revelation” is commonly described as a moment when God “reveals” truth directly to the believer—often while reading Scripture, during prayer, or in the middle of a sermon. This experience, while sincere in many cases, is more accurately described as “illumination”—a biblical and historically orthodox concept that affirms the Spirit’s role in helping believers understand and apply the Word of God (cf. John 16:13; 1 Cor. 2:12–14).[6] But when this experience is labeled as “revelation,” it can imply that God is giving new or previously unknown truths, as if continuing the process by which the Scriptures themselves were inspired.

This confusion often stems from a misunderstanding of the doctrine of Divine Revelation. In classical Christian theology, Divine Revelation refers to God’s self-disclosure through history, culminating in the person of Jesus Christ and recorded in the canonical Scriptures.[7] It is distinct from Divine Inspiration, which is the process by which God, through the Holy Spirit, superintended the human authors of Scripture so that their writings are the very Word of God (2 Tim. 3:16–17; 2 Pet. 1:20–21).[8] Both doctrines are foundational to Bibliology, yet they are frequently blurred or misunderstood in popular teaching.[9]

This confusion is not unique to modern Pentecostalism. Similar misunderstandings have surfaced throughout church history whenever spiritual experience is emphasized without sufficient doctrinal grounding.[10] But it has become particularly pronounced in some Pentecostal traditions due to an emphasis on personal encounter, testimonies of supernatural guidance, and a revivalist culture that often valorizes the unlearned preacher who speaks “only by the Spirit.” In such environments, phrases like “I received a revelation from God” may be used to justify an interpretation of Scripture—or even an entire doctrinal claim—without the need for historical-grammatical exegesis, canonical context, or theological consistency.

This conflation is often unintentional. It arises from an authentic desire to honor the Spirit and avoid what is perceived as the cold intellectualism of formal theological study. But the outcome is that many sincere believers are left without the tools to distinguish between God-given insight and personal intuition. Worse, the use of the phrase “divine revelation” to describe personal insight subtly shifts authority away from Scripture toward individual experience. When unchecked, this can lead to doctrinal drift, misinterpretation, and even spiritual abuse.[11]

We must be clear: the Spirit does speak. He convicts, leads, comforts, and illuminates. But the foundation of His work is always grounded in the Word He inspired (2 Pet. 1:20–21). Revelation, properly understood, refers to God’s once-for-all self-disclosure through the prophets, through the incarnate Word (Jesus Christ), and through the canonical Scriptures. That revelation is sufficient and complete (Heb. 1:1–2; Jude 3).[12] What we experience today through the Spirit is not “new” revelation, but faithful insight into the revelation already given.

By clarifying this distinction, we do not diminish the Pentecostal emphasis on Spirit-led living. Rather, we strengthen it—rooting it more deeply in biblical theology and guarding it from confusion. The goal is not to quench the Spirit, but to discern rightly the Spirit's voice (1 Thess. 5:19–21).

The Dangers of Misusing the Term “Divine Revelation”

The misuse of the term “divine revelation” within many Pentecostal and Charismatic traditions often stems from a genuine zeal to encounter God intimately. Yet, when experience becomes untethered from sound doctrine, the result can be spiritual confusion, doctrinal error, and ecclesial instability. One of the most pressing dangers is the blurring of the lines between Divine Revelation and Divine Inspiration—two distinct yet related theological categories within historic Christian theology.[13]

In traditional Christian theology, Divine Revelation refers to God's self-disclosure to humanity. This includes general revelation—seen in creation and conscience—and special revelation, which is supremely revealed in Scripture and in the person of Jesus Christ (Ps. 19:1–4; Rom. 1:19–20; Heb. 1:1–2).[14] Divine Inspiration, on the other hand, is the specific act by which God guided the human authors of Scripture to write His revealed Word, safeguarding its truth through their unique personalities, cultural contexts, and literary styles (2 Tim. 3:16; 2 Pet. 1:20–21).[15] Revelation provides the content; inspiration governs its communication.

Pentecostal misuse often collapses these categories. For instance, the claim that “God revealed this to me” while reading Scripture may suggest to some that a new form of revelation is occurring—similar to the prophetic moments recorded in Scripture. While such experiences may involve illumination—the Spirit opening the believer’s eyes to understand the inspired Word (John 14:26; 1 Cor. 2:10–13)—it is not the same as God revealing brand new, canonical truth.[16] Confusing illumination with revelation undermines the sufficiency of Scripture and risks paving the way toward subjective, unanchored spirituality.[17]

Moreover, this misunderstanding may unintentionally challenge the finality and authority of the biblical canon. If “divine revelation” is ongoing in the same manner as it was to the prophets and apostles, then the boundaries between Scripture and post-canonical experiences become dangerously porous. This is not merely a theoretical concern; history is replete with examples of sectarian movements formed around supposed “new revelations” that diverged from the gospel once delivered (Jude 3).[18]

Theologian Wayne Grudem clarifies this issue when he notes, “To claim that new revelation is on par with Scripture is to place personal experience at the same level as the Bible—and this undermines the authority of Scripture.”[19] While Pentecostals rightly emphasize the role of the Spirit, a failure to distinguish illumination from revelation invites theological and ecclesial chaos.

In addition, the belief that spiritual depth can be achieved apart from rigorous study encourages a form of anti-intellectualism. This was seen in early revivalist rhetoric that often contrasted “book learning” with “Spirit power.” However, such dichotomies are false. Scripture itself commands the believer to “study to show yourself approved” (2 Tim. 2:15), and the Spirit-inspired Scriptures praise knowledge, wisdom, and instruction throughout (Prov. 1:7; Col. 1:9–10). Study is not opposed to the Spirit; it is a means by which the Spirit shapes the mind and heart of the believer.[20]

Most importantly, conflating “divine revelation” with personal insight can open the door to theological error. If every insight one receives is considered a “revelation from God,” how does one distinguish between divine truth, personal bias, or even demonic deception? Scripture provides the safeguard: all claimed revelation must be measured against the inspired Word (1 John 4:1; Acts 17:11). But to do so requires that believers develop a solid theological framework—something the Spirit invites and empowers, not discourages.[21]

The Classical Doctrine of Divine Revelation

The doctrine of Divine Revelation is a cornerstone of Christian theology, forming the very basis of how we understand God, Scripture, and the Christian faith. Properly defined, Divine Revelation is God’s gracious self-disclosure—His unveiling of Himself, His purposes, and His will to humankind. Historically, this doctrine has been understood through a dual framework: General Revelation and Special Revelation.

General Revelation refers to what God makes known about Himself through creation and conscience. As Psalm 19:1–4 declares, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” Similarly, Romans 1:19–20 affirms that God's invisible attributes, eternal power, and divine nature are clearly perceived through what has been made, rendering all humanity without excuse.[22] General Revelation, however, is limited—it reveals God’s existence and power, but not His saving purposes in Christ.

Special Revelation, by contrast, refers to God’s specific, redemptive self-disclosure. It includes His direct speech (as to the patriarchs and prophets), His mighty acts in history (such as the Exodus), His incarnation in Jesus Christ, and the inscripturated Word—Scripture. Hebrews 1:1–2 captures this beautifully: “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.”[23] The climax of divine revelation is found in the person and work of Jesus Christ, the living Word (John 1:14), and is preserved in the written Word—the Bible.

Within this classical framework, revelation is complete. As Jude 3 teaches, the faith has been “once for all delivered to the saints.” Scripture, therefore, is not a record of revelation, but the revelation itself—God-breathed and authoritative (2 Tim. 3:16).[24] Divine Revelation is not something believers continue to receive in the same way as the biblical prophets and apostles; it has been given fully and finally in Christ and the canon.[25]

Closely related—but distinct—is the doctrine of Divine Inspiration. While revelation refers to the content God discloses, inspiration refers to the process by which the Holy Spirit moved human authors to faithfully and accurately record that revelation. As 2 Peter 1:20–21 explains, “No prophecy of Scripture comes from someone’s own interpretation. For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.”[26] Inspiration preserves the integrity of God’s revealed truth while fully utilizing the personalities, contexts, and literary styles of the biblical writers.[27]

To conflate Divine Revelation with Inspiration—or with personal illumination—is to obscure these essential theological distinctions. Divine Revelation is objective, public, and unrepeatable. It is the foundation of the Christian faith, not a subjective moment of insight in prayer or reading. While the Holy Spirit still speaks today, He does not reveal in the canonical sense; He illumines what has already been revealed, guiding believers into truth (John 16:13) but not adding to the truth once delivered.

It is also vital to emphasize that the Spirit does not illumine outside of the historical, cultural, and theological framework in which the biblical text was originally given. The same Spirit who inspired the authors within their ancient, first-century Jewish, or Greco-Roman contexts now illumines the meaning of that text within that same historical frame—not in abstraction.[28] Sound theology requires that our understanding of divine communication be rooted in both the Word and the historical method by which that Word was revealed and preserved.

Neglecting this framework often leads to confusion, especially in traditions that emphasize spiritual experience without theological anchoring. But the classical doctrine of Divine Revelation invites us to a better way—one that affirms the power of the Spirit without compromising the authority, sufficiency, and finality of Scripture.

The Role of the Spirit: Illumination, Not New Revelation

If Divine Revelation refers to the content God has once-for-all disclosed, and Divine Inspiration refers to the process by which that content was faithfully recorded in Scripture, then illumination is the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit in helping believers understand and apply that revealed Word. It is this ministry of the Spirit—not ongoing revelation—that guides the Church today into the truth already revealed in Christ and in the Scriptures.

Jesus promised this work of the Spirit to His disciples before His ascension. In John 16:13, He said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, He will guide you into all the truth.” This promise was initially fulfilled in the apostolic witness, but its implications continue for all believers. As Paul teaches in 1 Corinthians 2:12–14, it is the Spirit who enables us to discern spiritual truth: “Now we have received… the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God.”[29] This is not the reception of new revelation, but the Spirit granting illumination—the clarity of understanding as we read and meditate on the inspired Scriptures.

Theologically, illumination is not passive or magical. It does not bypass the intellect or render study unnecessary. Rather, it enables the believer to engage faithfully with the biblical text, drawing meaning from it as originally intended by the human authors and ultimately by God. As Gregg Allison explains, illumination is “the Spirit’s ongoing work of making the revealed truth understandable and applicable to the Christian’s life.”[30] It functions within the historical, grammatical, literary, and theological context of the Bible—not outside of it.

Here, again, we find a key corrective to the misuses common in some Pentecostal circles. When someone says, “The Spirit revealed this to me,” what is often meant is that the person suddenly came to understand something in Scripture that previously seemed hidden. Properly speaking, this is illumination. But if that experience is framed as revelation, it may suggest that the Spirit is still disclosing previously unknown divine truths—akin to what He did through the prophets or apostles.[31] This confuses categories and threatens the sufficiency of the biblical canon.

Moreover, illumination is not purely subjective. The Spirit works through the Word, not apart from it. He does not give private meanings to individual believers. What He illumines has already been revealed in Scripture and must be interpreted within its canonical, theological, and historical context. The same Spirit who inspired the text in the first century now illumines it in the twenty-first—within the same cultural and theological framework in which He first gave it.[32] Any “truth” that contradicts or stretches beyond that framework cannot be attributed to the Spirit of God (1 John 4:1).

To affirm this is not to diminish the vibrancy of the Spirit’s work—it is to honor it rightly. The Spirit still speaks, but He speaks through what He has already spoken. He guides, but never outside of the path already laid in the Word. The Church needs both the fire of the Spirit and the foundation of the Word. One without the other leads either to dead formalism or chaotic mysticism. But together, they bring life, clarity, and fruitfulness in the believer’s walk with God.

Reclaiming Theology: Spirit and Word Together

In many Pentecostal and revivalist contexts, the word theology has acquired a reputation of being cold, academic, or even unspiritual. This skepticism is often rooted in a sincere desire to preserve the primacy of the Spirit’s power and presence. Stories abound of preachers who, with little formal education, preached under the anointing and saw lives transformed. Such testimonies should not be dismissed—God indeed uses the humble and the untrained (1 Cor. 1:26–29). But the unfortunate result has been that theological study is sometimes treated with suspicion, as though it were a threat to spiritual authenticity.

This is a false dichotomy. True theology is not a rival to the Spirit—it is the fruit of His illuminating work in the Church. As John Calvin famously said, the Spirit is “the internal teacher” who brings understanding of Scripture to life.[33] Theology, rightly pursued, is doxological—that is, it leads to worship. It is not dry speculation about God, but Spirit-empowered reflection on God’s self-revelation in Christ and in the Scriptures.

The biblical vision upholds this harmony. Paul prays that believers would be “filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding” (Col. 1:9)—a clear indication that spirituality and theological depth are not at odds but intertwined. The early church devoted itself both to the apostles’ doctrine and to the fellowship and breaking of bread and prayers (Acts 2:42). Throughout Scripture, the Spirit is the one who teaches (John 14:26), reminds (John 14:26), and equips the Church for ministry through truth (Eph. 4:11–15).

To reclaim theology, then, is not to quench the Spirit but to walk more deeply with Him. It is to honor both His revelatory work in the past and His illuminating work in the present. The great revivals of history did not flourish on emotion alone—they were grounded in biblical truth. Even many of the uneducated revivalists of the past spent countless hours in Scripture, absorbing its patterns of thought and learning from the preached Word.[34] What they lacked in formal training, they made up for in Scripture-saturated devotion.

Still, today’s believers have no excuse for anti-intellectualism. We are living in an era of unprecedented access to biblical resources, commentaries, historical theology, and faithful teachers. Paul’s exhortation to “rightly divide the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15) applies just as much now—if not more—than in the past. The Spirit does not bypass the mind; He renews it (Rom. 12:2). And when we study Scripture prayerfully, depending on the Spirit for insight, we are engaging in the very task of theology.

In my own past Pentecostal tradition, the term “theology” has been replaced with the term “doctrine.” Doctrine becomes the focal point of Christian living void of its theological foundations. In other words, as long as you have doctrine right, there is no need for theology; and doctrine comes by “revelation” of the Spirit. There is a fundamental misunderstanding here that fails to realize that, rightly viewed, theology dictates doctrine, not the other way around. It is from theological understanding that doctrinal structures are framed. For example, we understand the “Doctrine of the Trinity” to be right because of what the Bible reveals theologically about the nature of God. It should never be that we make up our minds about specific doctrines and then try to adjust theology to fit those doctrines. Rather, we settle, re-evaluate, re-adjust, and dare I say, even change our doctrine according to what the Bible reveals theologically. This is what it looks like to be faithful to the text of Scripture.

There is, therefore, a need to redeem the word theology in the eyes of those who have grown wary of it. When properly defined as “the study of God” (theos + logos), theology is not man’s speculation about God but the Church’s faithful response to God’s revelation.[35] It is not the domain of academics alone but the calling of every believer who seeks to love God with all their heart, soul, strength, and mind (Luke 10:27). In fact, the very act of “meditating on the law of the Lord day and night” (Ps. 1:2) is theological in nature (not doctrinal).

The revival the Church longs for will not come through either theological study or spiritual fervor alone—it will come through the convergence of both. We need the Word preached in power and the Spirit moving in holiness. We need minds renewed and hearts enflamed. And we need a theology that is saturated with the gushing of living waters and that dances with fire—not dry parchment, but a living flame rooted in truth and fanned by prayer.

A Better Way Forward: Study and Spirit in Harmony

The way forward for the Church—particularly for Pentecostal and Charismatic believers—is not to abandon spiritual sensitivity in favor of academic rigor, nor to neglect careful study in the name of Spirit-led spontaneity. It is to pursue a renewed integration of both: a Spirit-filled, Word-saturated discipleship rooted in the conviction that the Spirit and the Scriptures work together in perfect unity.

This vision is not new. The Reformers insisted on Sola Scriptura, but they did not discount the Spirit’s work in helping believers interpret and apply that Scripture.[36] John Wesley, often hailed as a forerunner to the Holiness-Pentecostal movements, exemplified a model of ministry that wedded robust theological reflection with a burning heart for God.[37] Even in the revivals of the early twentieth century, one finds evidence that the Spirit moved powerfully among those who were immersed in the preached Word and deeply devoted to the authority of Scripture.

In practice, this means cultivating churches and communities where study and prayer are held together, not set in competition. It means teaching believers not only to hunger for a “word from the Lord,” but to diligently search the Word He has already given (Acts 17:11). It means resisting both the dry academicism that forgets the Spirit and the mystical anti-intellectualism that forgets the Word.

It also requires that pastors and teachers model this balance in their preaching and leadership. When church leaders elevate spontaneous impressions over Scripture, they risk training congregations to follow subjective feelings rather than the objective truth of God's Word. But when leaders demonstrate how the Spirit illuminates the Word—bringing it to life with clarity, conviction, and relevance—they equip the Church to walk in discernment, humility, and maturity (Eph. 4:11–15).

We must also teach that the Spirit's work of illumination operates within the same cultural, historical, and theological context in which He originally inspired the biblical authors. The same Spirit who breathed out Scripture (2 Tim. 3:16) does not now bypass language, history, or grammar to deliver ahistorical insights. Rather, He helps believers understand the meaning the text had for its original audience and how that meaning applies today.[38] This guards against the misuse of Scripture and the personalization of texts in ways that distort their intended message.

By embracing a view of revelation that respects both the finality of Scripture and the Spirit’s ongoing work of illumination, the Church can move toward greater theological stability and spiritual vitality. This is not compromise—it is continuity with the historic faith.

In a time when “everyone has a word,” we must be a people who test every word by the Word. In a culture driven by emotion and sensation, we must cultivate minds trained in truth and hearts set aflame by grace. If we are to see revival that lasts, it must be rooted in the Word and sustained by the Spirit—not one or the other, but both together.

Conclusion: A Call to Discernment and Renewal

The Church today stands in great need—not merely of revival marked by emotional fervor, but of renewal rooted in truth and discernment. The confusion surrounding terms like divine revelation is not a minor theological quibble. It affects how believers hear from God, how pastors preach, and how churches discern what is truly from the Spirit. Left unaddressed, this confusion will continue to foster spiritual immaturity, doctrinal instability, and a kind of experiential Christianity untethered from true biblical authority.

But this confusion is not insurmountable. A return to the biblical and historic understanding of Divine Revelation, distinguished clearly from “divine inspiration” and Spiritual Illumination, can help reorient believers toward a faith that is both Spirit-filled and Scripturally grounded. The Spirit who inspired the biblical text (2 Pet. 1:21) is the same Spirit who now illuminates its meaning to believers (John 14:26)—not by bypassing study or context, but by working through it.

In a world that prizes novelty and emotional immediacy, it is tempting to elevate personal experience as the ultimate measure of truth. But Scripture warns against such a posture: “Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God” (1 John 4:1 KJV). That testing requires more than feeling; it demands discernment—discernment shaped by the canon of Scripture and cultivated through faithful study and spiritual humility.

Let us then return to a better way. Not the cold rationalism that denies the Spirit’s voice, nor the unchecked experientialism that substitutes feeling for revelation—but the way of the early Church, of the Reformers, and of faithful Pentecostal pioneers who cherished both Word and Spirit. Let us teach our people that the Word of God is not opposed to the Spirit of God—it is the Spirit’s own Word, rightly divided and faithfully received.

To reclaim this balance is not to diminish the Pentecostal heritage but to strengthen it. It is to anchor the fire of revival in the foundation of truth, so that what burns will not consume but purify. This is the way forward—a call to discernment, to theological clarity, and to a renewal that glorifies Christ through both the Spirit and the Word.

Footnotes:

[1] Kevin J. Vanhoozer, The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005), 210–13.

[2] Michael S. Horton, The Christian Faith: A Systematic Theology for Pilgrims on the Way (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 143–45.

[3] Gregg R. Allison, Historical Theology: An Introduction to Christian Doctrine (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), 105–106.

[4] Vern S. Poythress, God-Centered Biblical Interpretation (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1999), 41.

[5] Douglas Jacobsen, Thinking in the Spirit: Theologies of the Early Pentecostal Movement (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2003), 128–31.

[6] Sinclair B. Ferguson, The Holy Spirit (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 1996), 93–95.

[7] Millard J. Erickson, Christian Theology, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013), 198–202.

[8] John Frame, The Doctrine of the Word of God (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2010), 135–40.

[9] Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994), 47–48.

[10] Alister E. McGrath, Historical Theology: An Introduction to the History of Christian Thought, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012), 236–38.

[11] Andrew Naselli, “The Problem of Experience-Based Theology,” Themelios 37, no. 2 (2012): 211–18.

[12] Carl F. H. Henry, God, Revelation, and Authority, vol. 1 (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1976), 229–35.

[13] Vanhoozer, The Drama of Doctrine, 38-39.

[14] Frame, The Doctrine of the Word, 3-10.

[15] Erickson, Christian Theology, 232-41.

[16] R. C. Sproul, Knowing Scripture (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2009), 27–28.

[17] Horton, The Christian Faith, 147-48.

[18] Harold O. J. Brown, Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998), 409–15.

[19] Wayne Grudem, The Gift of Prophecy in the New Testament and Today, rev. ed. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2000), 27.

[20] J. I. Packer, Fundamentalism and the Word of God (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1958), 104–6.

[21] D. A. Carson, Exegetical Fallacies, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1996), 24–25.

[22] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2008), 1.3.1.

[23] Horton, The Christian Faith, 138-40.

[24] Vanhoozer, The Drama of Doctrine,

[25] Carl F. H. Henry, God, Revelation and Authority, Vol. 2 (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 1999), 19–22.

[26] B. B. Warfield, “The Idea of Revelation,” in The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1948), 67.

[27] Grudem, Systematic Theology, 74-76.

[28] Moisés Silva, ed., Foundations of Contemporary Interpretation, Vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 21–25.

[29] D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 539–540.

[30] Gregg R. Allison, 50 Core Truths of the Christian Faith: A Guide to Understanding and Teaching Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2018), 73.

[31] Ferguson, The Holy Spirit, 99-100.

[32] Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Is There a Meaning in This Text? The Bible, the Reader, and the Morality of Literary Knowledge (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1998), 416–417.

[33] Calvin, Institutes, 1.7.4

[34] Edith L. Blumhofer, Restoring the Faith: The Assemblies of God, Pentecostalism, and American Culture (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1993), 89–91.

[35] Alister E. McGrath, Theology: The Basics, 4th ed. (Hoboken: Wiley-Blackwell, 2017), 1–3.

[36] Timothy George, Theology of the Reformers, 2nd ed. (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2013), 79–81.

[37] Randy L. Maddox, Responsible Grace: John Wesley’s Practical Theology (Nashville: Kingswood Books, 1994), 23–26.

[38] Vanhoozer. The Drama of Doctrine, 231-233