Walk in the Woods
Vol III: #65 The Asbury Revival
I heard about the Asbury revival almost as soon as it started, a benefit of technology and my loose association with revival culture. The revival community is small but well connected. News- welcome or unwelcome- spreads quickly. Within days, the revival appeared to spread across the country, from Asbury in Kentucky to cities like Austin, Charlotte, and Redding. Lots of mostly young-ish people, dancing and singing, worshipping, as if compelled to act beyond their normal capacity. This is what is called a move of the Spirit.
I heard about the Asbury revival almost as soon as it started two weeks ago, a benefit of technology and my loose association with revival culture. The revival community is small but well connected. News- welcome or alarming- moves at the speed of wifi. As if by plan and within days, the revival appeared to spread across the country, from Asbury in Kentucky to cities like Austin, Charlotte, and Redding. Lots of mostly young-ish people, dancing and singing, worshipping, as if compelled to act beyond their normal capacity. This is what is called a move of the Spirit.
Because of Asbury and the Spread, revival became a hot topic of conversation within my community, the reaction of my friends diverse and revealing. Eliab is thrilled, Mario focused on the “long-term effect,” and Ryan cynical. I admit my thoughts land somewhere between what will come of this and who gives a shit. And then I remembered some old friends- Blake, George, Evan, Stephan, and Patrick- eagerly driving to Florida and California to be in the presence of a revival. When they got back, they’d pray for days, keeping the spark alive for a while. These were precious moments when spirits were high and the future certain, full of wonder and possibilities.
Eventually, for these lads, motivations shifted and life happened. Reality is no one escapes the ups and downs of human life because they we part of a revival. As I sit and type, one of them is dead, one is no longer a Christian, one is struggling with alcoholism and a divorce, and the other two are navigating lives as married men with families. And it wasn’t just us- the eager but immature- who struggled. Our entire community collapsed, despite the Holy Ghost encounters or how real it all felt.
So for these kids in Asbury or Redding, I pray they take the moment home with them. I pray they write down what they experienced, thought, and felt. I pray they form a collective memory, and tell the stories over and over. But more than that, I pray they stop, to step back from the moment. And they let the eyes of their soul swing to a wide view. The over arching message of every revival, every encounter, no matter when or where, is the Lord is good, He is real, and He loves you. And life is not a revival, an endless spiritual high. Death and failure and disappointment are coming for you. What will sustain them is what always sustains the Christian. So, my most earnest prayer for these kids is they use this momentum to dive deep into the Lord. That they would live Matthew 6:33, to seek the Lord first and always, everyday.
The Lord has chosen to love us and be in us (Emmanuel.) We must chose to love and be in Him in return.
Vol III: #63 Shaking and Quakin’
I’ve seen people shake and shout and confess their sins. I’ve watched dirty old men proclaim there redemption and women dance like the world depended on it. And for some, perhaps most, it is an fleshly act, one they so desperately want to be true. Alternatively, for some, perhaps only a few, they are having an encounter with God Almighty. It is for the few that I kept my mouth shut as Eliab continued to describe events unimportant to me.
“Revival has broken out at the school. The Lord is doing really amazing things! It’s so good. You should come.” This was the admonishment given to me recently by my friend Eliab. We haven’t been friends for too long so I doubt he detected my cynical reaction. Instead, he continued to describe the scene at Bethel, one full of shouting and singing, flopping bodies and “something breaking lose.” Each word felt like nails on a chalkboard, but instead of a chalkboard, his words were nails across my heart.
I’ve seen people shake and shout and confess their sins. I’ve watched dirty old men proclaim there redemption and women dance like the world depended on it. And for some, perhaps most, it is an fleshly act, one they so desperately want to be true. Alternatively, for some, perhaps only a few, they are having an encounter with God Almighty. It is for the few that I kept my mouth shut as Eliab continued to describe events unimportant to me.
Outpourings are common at Bethel. And they tend to look identical. I knew that before I attended their school. I knew their “we owe the world an encounter with God” mantra. And I knew they prized the yelling and screaming and dramatic displays of the Holy Ghost. The senior pastors and leaders are, after all, spiritual descendants of the Azusa Street Revival. They don’t do quiet, solemn, or calm. And they take commandments to shout, dance, and heal the sick literally. I knew all this.
The real rub is I know it takes all kinds. It takes all kinds of moments and experiences to attract people to the Lord. For some, it’s revival as described by my friend Eliab. For others, it’s more private and intimate and all the variations in between. The Lord meets us where we are and we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be jealous of what the Lord does to or with someone else. I encounter the Lord through great art and the beauty of snow-capped mountains, which is odd to some fellow Christians. Sounds like I’m a hippy or New Age-y. So I ask, isn’t the point of all this, flopping or art or music, to turn our hearts toward Him? Seems to me the Holy Spirit uses more than a nightcrawler to bait the hook.
I think my true resentment comes from feeling unappreciated by churchy folks. Do I really care if people quake and shout? No. But what if they are faking? Nope. Not really my business either. What hurts my heart is when I tell someone I cried in wonder while staring at painting and they give me the confused dog response and push the conversation forward. But then if I said I was “drunk” or sobbed into the carpet during worship, the backslaps wouldn’t stop coming. Intellectually, I understand it’s a cultural value where emphasis is placed on the outward display of the Lord’s power and presence. When, in fact, Jesus is at the center of both moments, one no more important than the other. Still sucks to be unappreciated.
Thankfully, the Lord doesn’t give a damn about my resentment or self-pity. And I know these revivals are good and necessary. I look forward to the day when we see any encounter with Jesus as good and necessary, regardless of location or physical display. And what a day it’ll be, when God is allowed to love His people without our prejudice or judgment.