If a revival were to sweep his country of ours, what would it look like?
Fifty years ago, a revival sparked on the West Coast, with long-hair guitar players creating what we now call Contemporary Christian Music and young people wading into the Pacific Ocean to be baptized, all the way under and up dripping wet.
In 1857, churches in lower Manhattan in New York City were crowded at all hours of the day (but especially noon) with people attending prayer services. My namesake, Dwight L. Moody (1837-1899) was caught up in the fervor as it spread to cities around the country; he felt its power and responded with a commitment to gospel work, becoming the leading figure of what we now know as Evangelicalism.
Twenty-seven miles east of my hometown—Lexington, Kentucky—Cane Ridge Meetinghouse sits enclosed in a protective shelter as it reminds the visitor of the most famous revival in American history. In 1801, more than 10,000 people (and perhaps as many as 20,000) came for an eight-day camp meeting of preaching, singing, and testifying along with sleeping, eating, and socializing.
People today are again speaking and writing about revival.
During the public memorial service for Charlie Kirk, more than one person said some version of this: “This is not a funeral. It is a revival.” Somebody posted later: “Revival is breaking out amongst the generations in the midst of Charlie Kirk’s tragedy. Keep it going. Let it not be in vain.” It was a reaction to spontaneous gatherings of young people in public places that turned into praise singing and testifying.
What do you think? What do you see and feel? More importantly, what do you want or what do we need?
The New York Times published a story this week by religion writer Ruth Graham. It is entitled “Orthodox Church Pews Are Overflowing With Converts” and includes her explanation of why young adults, especially men, are leaving Evangelical culture in favor of Orthodoxy. She summarizes these surprising situations in “relatively small religious subcultures” by asserting that “they are part of a shift that enthusiastic observers are calling revival.”
But here is my question: what becomes of this religious fervor? Is it an emotional ground swell that eventually subsides to allow our behaviors, our attitudes, and our commitments to return to, well, normal?
I have participated in several local revivals. It was on a Thursday night of a two-week “revival”—which is what we called 15 straight days of prayer meetings and preaching services—that I walked the aisle and announced my faith in Jesus and commitment to Christian life. And five years later, in a similar meeting, I did it again to register my call to gospel work as a vocation.
That latter came in the midst of a two-year surge of religious enthusiasm, especially among young people, in our small town in West Kentucky. It transformed our church and also many of the life trajectories of those young people. I recently drove six hours to express my sympathy to one of the leaders of that movement as she mourned the death of her ministerial husband.
In January of 1970, a fraternity brother of mine drove both of us 33 miles south to Asbury College to witness the spontaneous revival of music, prayer, and testimony. We stayed six hours, sitting on the back row of Hughes Chapel. (Picture above of that Asbury revival) I returned in 2023 when it happened again, this time with camera and pen in hand to report to my Meetinghouse audience.
My questions still remain: what would we see or feel or do if a religious revival were to sweep our country?
Which reminds me of the exchange Jesus had so very long ago with disciples of John the Baptizer who were once again enamored by the presence and preaching of a person of significance, Jesus: “What did you go to see in the wilderness?” Jesus asked. “A reed swaying in the wind? A man dressed in fine clothes? A prophet?” Jesus had already answered his own questions: “Report back to John what you see and hear [of my ministry]: the blind see, the lame walk, the sick healed, the deaf hear, the dead raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (Matthew 11:1-15).
Can we expect a revival today to have similar results: marriages flourish and prisons close, violence declines and students learn, people listen, welcome and “distribute to anyone who has need” (as Acts of the Apostles describes that first revival in Jerusalem). Would a revival of true religion answer the prayers of people using the words of the great Hebrew prophet Micah, that together as a nation we might “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God” … and with each other?
Do we need a revival that only produces more members for our churches? or do we need a movement of God that will reduce violence, promote generosity, and cultivate community throughout the country?
That is the kind of revival I want, the kind of revival we need, the kind of revival for which I pray. What about you?
If a revival were to sweep his country of ours, what would it look like?
Fifty years ago, a revival sparked on the West Coast, with long-hair guitar players creating what we now call Contemporary Christian Music and young people wading into the Pacific Ocean to be baptized, all the way under and up dripping wet.
In 1857, churches in lower Manhattan in New York City were crowded at all hours of the day (but especially noon) with people attending prayer services. My namesake, Dwight L. Moody (1837-1899) was caught up in the fervor as it spread to cities around the country; he felt its power and responded with a commitment to gospel work, becoming the leading figure of what we now know as Evangelicalism.
Twenty-seven miles east of my hometown—Lexington, Kentucky—Cane Ridge Meetinghouse sits enclosed in a protective shelter as it reminds the visitor of the most famous revival in American history. In 1801, more than 10,000 people (and perhaps as many as 20,000) came for an eight-day camp meeting of preaching, singing, and testifying along with sleeping, eating, and socializing.
People today are again speaking and writing about revival.
During the public memorial service for Charlie Kirk, more than one person said some version of this: “This is not a funeral. It is a revival.” Somebody posted later: “Revival is breaking out amongst the generations in the midst of Charlie Kirk’s tragedy. Keep it going. Let it not be in vain.” It was a reaction to spontaneous gatherings of young people in public places that turned into praise singing and testifying.
What do you think? What do you see and feel? More importantly, what do you want or what do we need?
The New York Times published a story this week by religion writer Ruth Graham. It is entitled “Orthodox Church Pews Are Overflowing With Converts” and includes her explanation of why young adults, especially men, are leaving Evangelical culture in favor of Orthodoxy. She summarizes these surprising situations in “relatively small religious subcultures” by asserting that “they are part of a shift that enthusiastic observers are calling revival.”
But here is my question: what becomes of this religious fervor? Is it an emotional ground swell that eventually subsides to allow our behaviors, our attitudes, and our commitments to return to, well, normal?
I have participated in several local revivals. It was on a Thursday night of a two-week “revival”—which is what we called 15 straight days of prayer meetings and preaching services—that I walked the aisle and announced my faith in Jesus and commitment to Christian life. And five years later, in a similar meeting, I did it again to register my call to gospel work as a vocation.
That latter came in the midst of a two-year surge of religious enthusiasm, especially among young people, in our small town in West Kentucky. It transformed our church and also many of the life trajectories of those young people. I recently drove six hours to express my sympathy to one of the leaders of that movement as she mourned the death of her ministerial husband.
In January of 1970, a fraternity brother of mine drove both of us 33 miles south to Asbury College to witness the spontaneous revival of music, prayer, and testimony. We stayed six hours, sitting on the back row of Hughes Chapel. (Picture above of that Asbury revival) I returned in 2023 when it happened again, this time with camera and pen in hand to report to my Meetinghouse audience.
My questions still remain: what would we see or feel or do if a religious revival were to sweep our country?
Which reminds me of the exchange Jesus had so very long ago with disciples of John the Baptizer who were once again enamored by the presence and preaching of a person of significance, Jesus: “What did you go to see in the wilderness?” Jesus asked. “A reed swaying in the wind? A man dressed in fine clothes? A prophet?” Jesus had already answered his own questions: “Report back to John what you see and hear [of my ministry]: the blind see, the lame walk, the sick healed, the deaf hear, the dead raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (Matthew 11:1-15).
Can we expect a revival today to have similar results: marriages flourish and prisons close, violence declines and students learn, people listen, welcome and “distribute to anyone who has need” (as Acts of the Apostles describes that first revival in Jerusalem). Would a revival of true religion answer the prayers of people using the words of the great Hebrew prophet Micah, that together as a nation we might “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God” … and with each other?
Do we need a revival that only produces more members for our churches? or do we need a movement of God that will reduce violence, promote generosity, and cultivate community throughout the country?
That is the kind of revival I want, the kind of revival we need, the kind of revival for which I pray. What about you?
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