Revival Reimagined: Finding Jesus in the Everyday Rhythms of Life

Rembrandt, Landscape with the Rest the Flight into Egypt, 1645

When I was 13, I prayed for revival. I’d walk the aisles of the country church where I grew up, and I’d walk the perimeter of the property. I asked God for an awakening in our city, our state, our nation that would spread to the whole world—all from our tiny town and our tiny church. Because nothing was too big for God.

The context in which I’d come to know the Lord personally was one that encouraged and esteemed big, powerful spiritual awakenings. The kinds that were recorded in history. The kinds that lifted people from the monotony of ordinary life, inviting them into something otherworldly. The world would look on and wonder; they would be left speechless without an explanation for the manifest presence of God that had shaken the city, that had emptied the pubs and places of business.

These are the stories I grew up on. And they’re true stories. They’re incredible. They are evidence of the grace of God and the prayers of the saints. They are records of people coming to Jesus in large numbers at once, moved by something they can’t explain. There are plenty of well-documented examples of these revivals throughout history, the most recent example being at Asbury University.

That being said, I now see something about revival-centered, charismatic Christian culture that can be problematic. Now, a quick disclaimer—I come from this tradition and still consider myself a part of it. My heart here is not to be critical but to humbly highlight an opportunity for us to shift our approach.

The basic claim of charismatic Christianity as I understand it is that God still does the things he used to do—that signs and wonders still follow those who believe in Christ. I’m 100% on board with that.

But if this is true, then the other side of that coin must also be true: that God doesn’t heal everyone this side of heaven. That signs and wonders don’t always come when we ask for them. That we often experience in this life the opposite of what we’d expect from a conquering king.

Sadly, we often impose our cultural values onto the Kingdom of God and do damage as a result. Movement, revival-oriented Christianity often can only see God in the signs and wonders. We pray and beg for God to send his manifest presence to our churches and our cities, forgetting that he is already here. Forgetting that we have jobs to do—and by jobs, I’m referring to both our 9-5s and whatever other ministry assignment God has given us (but often those two categories are one and the same).

We forget that moves of God take time. That he is always moving. Like Elijah experienced, God was in the still small voice rather than the wind and earthquake and fire (1 Kings 19:11-13). We often look for him in the flashy moments, the newsworthy moments, the moments when the world is watching.

But our God is the God who took 12 nobodies and led them into the wilderness—who walked away when the crowds started to grow (Luke 5:16).

We look for Jesus in the wind, in the fire, in the earthquake—in cultural importance and events with big numbers. But we forget that God is not so cruel as to tease us with his presence or the absence thereof. He promised to be with us always, and with us, he is (Matthew 28:20).

Our problem is we’re not patient. We’re not patient when God takes his time. We’re not patient when suffering is required of us. We’re not patient when God asks us to go low in order to ascend.

I’ve learned the hard way that setting out to build a movement is a recipe for disaster, because it starts in the flesh, not the Spirit. It’s the same thing as when the disciples asked Jesus - “Will you now restore the Kingdom of Israel?” (Acts 1:6-8) They wanted to see a movement. And it never happened in their lives, because Jesus had a different definition of Kingdom.

How should it surprise us when we realize that our vision of Kingdom today is different from what Jesus has in mind? The thing is, we have to be willing to plant seeds that may never sprout in our lifetime. We must be alert to what God is doing in the world—not just in our group—and not be caught up in self-centered hype, thinking our church will the one where revival starts and that it will spread to our city and to our state and to our nation and to all nations, as the gospel did from Jerusalem. Every other charismatic church says the same thing. So, are we maybe missing the point?

God has other people in other places, and he is moving in ways outside of us that we could never imagine. This should inspire thanksgiving and praise, not disillusionment. We’ve sensationalized the gospel—considering a 9-5 job and a family and being part of a church that stays about the same size for decades, to be a boring life. I think the world needs a lot more boring lives lived for Jesus. I think this is actually what will move the needle of culture toward the way of Jesus.

The problem with seeking to build a movement is that there’s no way to do that without building it around ourselves, even if we try not to. We want to feed the 5,000 miraculously. But we forget that all we have to offer—indeed all that is spiritually healthy for us to offer—is the five loaves and two fish. If God wants a movement, God will do it. He doesn’t need us to bring the multiplication factor. He doesn’t even need us to come up with the idea to feed 5,000 people miraculously (the disciples themselves didn’t come up with that idea). He just needs us to be faithful where he’s planted us. He needs us to receive (Mark 10:15) and inherit the Kingdom (Luke 12:32)—not try to build it (that’s his job…and on that note, it’s already been built).

We are to live in the Kingdom, which means abiding in righteousness, joy, and peace in the Holy Spirit (Romans 14:17). We have opportunities to step into the Kingdom daily, in our ordinary lives. We don’t need some extraordinary moment to find God. That’s the whole reason why Jesus came in human flesh and also the reason so many people missed him.

I look back on the church where I grew up and I have a different perspective. I am who I am today because of that church, because of my church family. Because of my mom and dad and brother. But I realize that it wasn’t the prayers for revival that primarily influenced my faith and my view of the world…

It was the fact that every Sunday we’d all show up together.

It was that no matter what was going on in my life, I knew there were people who knew me well and would pray earnestly for me.

It was the fact that over the years when many things changed, there were some things that never did. And no matter what happened or who left or who came, there were those of us who would lift our hands in worship every Sunday morning. Together, we would remember Jesus, what he said to us, and what it meant for our lives that week. And we would hug each other before going back to our ordinary.

That right there was the miracle right in front of my face. And it took me years to really see it.

May we focus our attention on the God who is with us already, the God who owns and inhabits our every breath. May we bear witness to Jesus in ways that feel small. May we pay attention to his activity in our daily lives and look for his quiet goodness, his ever-present and often unnoticeable activity in our lives and in the world around us. May we join in what he’s been doing all along.