John Mark Hicks

This PDF provides a history of Lent, a theology of Lent, and some theological suggestions for preaching the lectionary texts of 2026.

Post #4 Carthage, North Africa, in 197 CE. Tertullian describes a gathering of believers in Jesus for his Roman audience.

We meet together for the reading of the divine writings, if the character of the times compels us in any way to forewarning or reminder. However that may be, with the holy words we nourish our faith, lift up our hope, confirm our confidence, and no less make strong our discipline by impressing the precepts. In the same place we deliver exhortations, reproofs, and a divine censure. (Coimus ad litterarum divinarum commemorationem, si quid praesentium temporum qualitas aut praemonere cogit aut recognoscere. Certe fidem sanctis vocibus pascimus, spem erigimus, fiduciam figimus, disciplinam praeceptorum nihilominus inculcationibus densamus. Ibidem etiam exhortationes, castigationes et censura divina.) From Apology, 39:3-4a.

1. What are the “divine writings” to which Tertullian refers. Later in the same chapter he refers to the “holy scriptures.” In the same book, he states: “God has added a written revelation for the benefit of everyone whose heart is set on seeking him, that seeking he may find, and finding believe, and believing obey” (18).  From his writings, we know Tertullian received the Hebrew Bible as authoritative and quoted every book of the present New Testament except 2 Peter, 2 John, 3 John, and James. Tertullian had a functioning New Testament canon that included the Gospels, Acts, Paul’s Epistles (including the Pastorals), Hebrews, 1 Peter, 1 John, and Revelation.

• Along with prayer, one of the central functions of the assembly was to read Scripture. What do these “holy words” (or “holy voices”) do? They nourish faith, elevate hope, establish trust, and establish discipline through instilling its precepts. The reading of Scripture forms a healthy community; it disciples the community. Reading Scripture cultivates faith, hope, confidence, and discipline.

• Also, they selected which Scriptures to read in relation to the “character of the times” or the quality of the present times. In other words, given the situation—whether persecution or needed discipline, texts were read to speak to the situation when appropriate.

• In addition to reading, however, the assembly also heard exhortations, corrections, and even “a divine censure.” The latter probably refers to moments when members were disciplined and removed or barred from the public assemblies. The former refers to the exhortations based on Scripture to encourage the congregation in their disciplined life.

Tertullian bears witness to the centrality of the reading, exposition, and application of Scripture (both the Hebrew Bible and the functioning canon of apostolic authors) in the late second century. The assembly is both encouraged and disciplined by its reading and the exhortations that followed (e.g., what we might call sermons or something akin to that). Scripture shapes the community just as prayer is the assembly’s aggressive action, as noted in Post #2.

Post #3 Carthage, North Africa, in 197 CE. Tertullian describes a gathering of believers in Jesus for his Roman audience.

“We pray, too, for the emperors, for their ministers and for all in authority, for the welfare of the world, for the prevalence of peace, for the delay of the final consummation.” (Oramus etiam pro imperatoribus, pro ministris eorum et potestatibus, pro statu saeculi, pro rerum quiete, pro mora finis.). From Apology, 39:2.

Tertullian previously characterized the assembly as a gathering of prayer warriors who besiege or surround God with their supplications. It is a communal “force”—an act of violent love (see Part 2). The congregation gathers to pray to God.

These prayers include the following.

1. The community prays for their political rulers. Tertullian himself was from the upper governing class, though now part of a persecuted minority. Nevertheless, he prays for the rulers of the empire. But for what does he pray?
   
2. The community prays for stability and peace. Literally, believers pray for the “state of the [current] age,” and they pray for the “quiet of things.” The latter reminds us of 1 Timothy 2:2, and the former reflects the desired state of the empire. The empire is filled with oppressive rule, chaotic shifts, and suppression of Christians. Tertullian himself became a Christian after watching martyrs die in the arena.
   
3. The community prays for the delay of the end. This is a rather unusual request. Paul prays for the Lord to come (1 Corinthians 16:22, maranatha). Paul’s prayer appears to have been part of the liturgy of some early assemblies. Yet, Tertullian pictures his assembly as praying for delay. Given its context, perhaps Tertullian seeks time for repentance and a larger ingathering of people, especially since Christianity is growing at the end of the second century and the beginning of the third. The tension, however, is thick: a yearning for the Lord to return but also a desire for others to know God before the Lord returns. Perhaps that is a healthy tension in which to live.

Jesus-followers gathered to pray for the rulers of this world, the peace and stability of the world, and for the delay of the Messiah’s return.  For his Roman audience, this information reshapes their suspicions. Christians did not gather to plot violence against the empire but to pray for its peace and stability, including its rulers.

Post #2. Carthage, North Africa, in 197 CE. Tertullian describes a gathering of believers in Jesus for his Roman audience.

“We meet together as a gathering and congregation, marshalling our troops to surround God with prayerful supplications. This force is pleasing to God” (Coimus in coetum et congregationem, ut ad deum quasi manu facta precationibus ambiamus orantes. Haec vis deo grata est.) From Apology, 39:2.

Several points are important for conceptualizing this ancient assembly of Jesus-followers.

• He uses two different words to describe this gathering—both have the semantic range of assembly. The first refers to a coming together as a group of some sort (including military ones). The second refers to an association or gathered community. These overlapping terms highlight the importance of assembly for followers of Jesus.

• The purpose of the assembly is to approach God as a community in prayer. The verb envisions surrounding or encircling God with prayers and supplications. Given the military overtones of some of the language, we might—as some translators do—use the language of “besieging” God with our prayers. We surround God like an army surrounds the objective. The assembled people of God are engaged in a military operation, as it were, to wrestle with God through prayer. It is a communal act rather than individual one.

• These prayers are themselves pleasing to God. Tertullian describes these prayers as “vis,” which means force or power. This redefines violence, force, or power. These ancient Christians did not engage in imperial militarism but encircled God with prayers for peace and stability (as the rest of the paragraph makes clear). This is the “violence of love” (Romero entitled one of his books) expressed through prayer.

Tertullian characterizes the assembly as primarily a function of prayer. He urges believers to see themselves as a community that encircles God with a fervor and persistence, and this mimics a violent military operation. The people of God come together to pray. It is the violence of loving prayer instead of political or military violence.

Carthage, North Africa, in 197 CE. Tertullian describes a gathering of believers in Jesus for his Roman audience.

“We are a body knit together as such by a common religious profession, by unity of discipline, and by the bond of a common hope” (Corpus sumus de conscientia religionis et disciplinae unitate et spei foedere). From Apology, 39:1.

Romans often used corpus (body) for voluntary associations like trade guilds and religious gatherings. Early Christianity was often regarded a superstitious association or faction (factionis in 39:1). Tertullian identifies the nature of Christian meetings for his audience. Christians are a body or society of people arising from three elements:

1. They have a common religious profession, which in Carthage (as represented by Tertullian) is the Rule of Faith that professes faith in God the Creator, the incarnate Son, and the poured out Holy Spirit who fills the body of Christ. They share, essentially, a commitment to what would be minimally stated as the “Apostles’ Creed.” In their meetings they confess their faith in God’s work.

2. They are united by a common discipline. Tertullian uses a Latin phrase that conjures up images of military discipline and training. The Christian body is a discipled (trained) community that shares common moral commitments, and these include practices in their meetings that formed disciples in that community. He describes some of these practices in the paragraph.

3. They live together in the hope of salvation, both present and future. He probably means they are a covenanted (foedere) community that lives in hope. In other words, they are bound together with a joyful expectation of God’s saving work, and they celebrate this and give thanks for it in their meetings.

Christians gather as a community with a particular profession of faith, disciplined ethics for life and formative practices, and a fervent and grateful hope for the future.

*****

I posted this quote from Tertullian on Facebook several days ago.

Tertulian (d. 220), a lay member of the church in Carthage, North Africa, describes the weekly assembly in his defense of the Christian Faith (Apology, 39).

“We are a body knit together as such by a common religious profession, by unity of discipline, and by the bond of a common hope. We meet together as an assembly and congregation, that, offering up prayer to God as with united force, we may wrestle with Him in our supplications. This strong exertion God delights in. We pray, too, for the emperors, for their ministers and for all in authority, for the welfare of the world, for the prevalence of peace, for the delay of the final consummation. We assemble to read our sacred writings, if any peculiarity of the times makes either forewarning or reminiscence needful. However it be in that respect, with the sacred words we nourish our faith, we animate our hope, we make our confidence more stedfast; and no less by inculcations of God’s precepts we confirm good habits.”

PDF file of blog here.

What is the historic traditional interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:11-14? The complementarian and egalitarian interpretations are both of recent vintage and responses to cultural shifts.

In her book An Historian Looks at 1 Timothy 2:11-14: The Authentic Traditional Interpretation and Why It Disappeared (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2012), Joan G. Brown explores the “traditional interpretation” of 1 Timothy 2:11-14 through the lens of major Protestant commentators from the Martin Luther to Charles Hodge, from the early sixteenth century to the mid-nineteenth century. She argues that the “authentic traditional interpretation” applied this text to civil and social order whereas contemporary traditionalists (who exclude all female audible and visible leadership in the assembly based on 1 Timothy 2:12) and complementarians (who primarily exclude women from preaching and ruling authority in congregational leadership based on 1 Timothy 2:12) do not. More recent views have shifted away from grounding social order in the creation ordinances (as it relates to male and female), while applying them to the home and church. This is a new interpretation. Culture, Brown argues, is responsible for this shift more than exegetical prowess.

Moreover, many who articulated the “authentic traditional interpretation” also believed that the kingdom of God is not bound by the natural law that governs the social order because God gifts women in extraordinary ways (beyond natural law) for public leadership in the community of faith. That conclusion is disputed by contemporary traditionalists (no voice for women leaders in the assembly) and complementarians (typically excluding mostly preaching and some more). What happened? Why did the traditional interpretation change? Brown attempts to answer that question.

Her research discovered (pages 28-29) that earlier interpreters grounded the subordination of women to men in the creation ordinances and the fall. This natural law applies to civil order and society. Women are inherently inferior to men and are prohibited from participating in the social order since they are not emotionally or constitutionally equipped to be leaders. The complementarian New Testament scholar Daniel Doriani also noted that until recently the historic record of the church affirmed the “ontological inferiority of women.”[1] In other words, women—as historically viewed by the dominant church traditions prior to the late nineteenth century—are inferior to men. This is not a mere “role” differentiation (which is language that does not enter the mainstream until the 1970s) but ontological difference (including, for many, the secondary or derivative status of women as divine imagers of God).

Consequently, public leadership (e.g, civil government) and public speaking (in whatever social or civil venue) were not sanctioned. These Protestant exegetes and leaders believed women were excluded from leadership in the civil order because natural law was grounded in creation and the fall, according to 1 Timothy 2:11-14. This would exclude female political leaders as well public professions such as college professors, medical doctors, lawyers, etc.

At the same time, according to many of these traditional leaders (e.g., the Reformer John Calvin, the Puritan Matthew Poole, and the Methodist Adam Clarke among others), this exclusion is not organic to the kingdom of God because God’s kingdom is spiritual and animated by the gifts of God’s Holy Spirit. Within the spiritual kingdom God, according to Scripture, calls women to function as prophets and leaders (whether Deborah, Miriam, Huldah, Anna, Phoebe, prophets in Corinth, etc.). Some of these Protestant interpreters read Galatians 3:28 as making this very point, that is, while the social order may not permit women to speak, in Christ they are gifted to exercise whatever God gifts them to do, including gifts of speech. However, in deference to civil order and society which are grounded in natural law and the dominant practice of culture, the church calls men to lead so that the church does not scandalize the culture in which it exists.

In other words, there was a time in the history of interpretation when women were excluded from leadership in the church because the social order required men to lead rather than women, and the church did not want to offend that social order and subvert the church’s missional interests. This is further complicated by the way authors assumed or argued for a two-kingdom theory: the kingdom of nature/world/civil and the kingdom of God. The former is grounded in natural law, but the latter is grounded in Christ. Since the kingdom of God exists in the world and does not want to give unnecessary offense, it defers to the social order as a missional strategy so that the gospel might have a hearing.

Exclusion from leadership in the social order is also the typical understanding within the Stone-Campbell Movement, especially among churches of Christ. However, the movement tended to exclude women in public leadership in both the home and church (with some significant exceptions, of course). For example, in 1874, D. G. Porter (Christian Quarterly [October 1874], 489-90) concluded women have no right to vote “unless, indeed, it is proposed to proceed upon what seems the absurdist of all principles, namely, subordination at home and in the Church, but independence and equity abroad. We call this proposition absurd, because it would seem that if woman can be equal to man in authority anywhere, it must be at home and in the Church; and that her equality here, if indeed that ought to be her position, must be the foundation of her equality in external affairs.”  Porter argued women should be excluded from voting because they should be subordinate to men in society just as they are in the home and church. He contended that the principle of equality is more rationally applicable within the church than in broader society.  To him, the link between society and church/home was both biblical (based on 1 Timothy 2:12-13) and logical, and if society embraces the equality of women and men, then the church and home must as well. He was against public leadership by women in both, including voting.

Or, to put it another way, James A. Allen, a leading evangelist in Nashville and future editor of the Gospel Advocate, wrote: “It is the law of nature, and the law of God, that the influence of woman must be exercised through man, and when she takes the reins in her own hands it works evil to both man and woman by lifting her out of the sphere in which she was placed by the Creator. . . God has not created her to take the lead or occupy the platform or religion” (Gospel Advocate [December 19, 1907] 812, emphasis mine). Allen and, we might add the Gospel Advocate staff, opposed suffrage because of 1 Timothy 2:11-14.

These two Stone-Campbell authors represent the hardline traditionalists who excluded women from all public speaking in both society and church due to creation ordinances. While this was not the exclusive understanding in the Stone-Campbell Movement, or even among Churches of Christ, it was standard in southern churches of Christ. This includes David Lipscomb (see this blog). However, Lipscomb argued for a wide latitude for the participate of women in private settings, including teaching Bible classes at the church building that including men and women.

In the late nineteenth century, this perspective flip-flops (page 63). Traditionalists in the late nineteenth century began to read 1 Timothy 2:11-14 as applying only to the church and home and did not apply it to the social order. The creation ordinance was limited to church and home. Consequently, while the consensus previously applied 1 Timothy 2:11-14 to the social order, new interpreters applied it only to the church and home, and not to the social order. The complementarian Doriani calls this a “reinterpretation” of 1 Timothy 2:11-14.[2] Churches of Christ also participated in this flip-flop where were only prohibited from public leadership in the church but not in society.

Brown’s book explains this flip-flop. Both enlightenment culture (where women increasingly participated in the social order) and the revivals of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in first and second Great Awakenings (where women often participated audibly and visibly in the leadership) contributed to the flip. The abolition, temperance, and suffrage movements also opened the doors for women to participate in the social order, and ultimately, they were slowly accepted and even ultimately elected to roles in the social order by the mid-twentieth century. At the same time, women in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries participated in the revivals as readers, exhorters, song leaders, and even sometimes preachers among other public sorts of leadership.

The flip came when the church began to accept the cultural shift towards women leaders in the social order but resist the rise of women leaders in the ecclesial sphere. Traditionalists (those who wanted to exclude women from public leadership) began to interpret 1 Timothy 2:11-14 as prohibiting women from public leadership in the church but did not apply the creation ordinance as it was traditionally understood—they no longer applied it to the social order. Consequently, women were expected to be silent in church, but they could now exercise authority over men in the civil and social sphere.

The historic “authentic traditional” interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:11-14 taught that women are inferior in nature, emotionally unfit for leadership in the social order, and excluded from public leadership in the social order. Yet, this tradition of interpretation opened doors for female leadership in the church by God’s giftedness (including women preaching in the medieval era), though the church typically did not exercise those gifts due to potential social scandal.

The recent rise of complementarianism in the mid-to-late twentieth century (whether “hard” [traditionalist] or “soft” versions) where women are not regarded as inferior for leadership in the social order, are thought emotionally fit for leadership in the social order, and are not prohibited from public leadership in the social order by 1 Timothy 2:11-14 is a new interpretation. It is not the historic, traditional interpretation of the church. Yet, this new interpretation now explicitly excludes women from public leadership in the church (to varying degrees depending on who the complementarian is) while opening wide the doors to female public leadership in the civil and social order.

It appears traditionalists, historically, succumbed to cultural pressures in much the same way many accuse egalitarians of succumbing to cultural pressures. Whereas the traditional position excluded women from leadership in the social order until the cultural movements of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (e.g., temperance, “new woman,” suffrage, etc.), the cultural shift seemingly changed their mind and the creation ordinances began to be applied only to the home and church.

In other words, complementarians have been influenced as much by culture as complementarians accuse egalitarians of being so influenced. None have escaped the impact of cultural influence.

[1] Daniel Doriani, “History of the Interpretation of 1 Timothy 2,” in Women in the Church: A Fresh Analysis of 1 Timothy 2:9-15, ed. By Andreas J. Kõstenberger, Thomas R. Schreiner, and H. Scott Baldwin (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1995), 257.

[2] Doriani, 258-59.

Therefore, make every effort to come together more frequently to give thanks and glory to God. For when you meet together frequently, the powers of Satan are overthrown, and his destructiveness is nullified by the unanimity of your faith. There is nothing better than peace, by which all warfare among those in heaven and those on earth is abolished (Ephesians 13).

I was recently asked to give a lecture on Ignatius. I choose to talk about his theological understanding of the assembly. I have uploaded the handout from the talk here.

The assembling of Christians is, it seems, on the decline such that only 16% of the US attends weekly and only 30% monthly. Ignatius offers a timely reminder of the importance of regular, frequent assemblies.

Churches of Christ are, gratefully, a people who love the Bible, and I grew up in an era when the church knew the Bible so well. At the same time, we read the Bible in a particular way that is perhaps not as faithful to the Bible as we might have hoped. In this interview, I talk about this.

“Revival” is sometimes used quite specifically, and at other times it is used rather broadly. It can mean anything from one’s own personal spiritual awakening to the impact of a culture-shaping movement of God across churches, regions, and even nations (e.g., the First Great Awakening). It can also refer to a spontaneous local congregational event (e.g., Jonathan Edwards in 1734-35), a planned series of meetings across several congregations (e.g., Cane Ridge was one in a series of communion festivals in 1801 Kentucky), or a spontaneous movement of congregations in a region (e.g., Welsh Revival in 1904-5).

The word can refer to many different things depending on who is using it, and it means something a bit different in different traditions and contexts. This is one reason we see some back-and-forth in social media about the significance of the Asbury “revival.”

In the present moment, I think we can discern three sorts of revivalistic practices or experiences that are linked to historic traditions within Christianity. I do not intend for the list below to restrict overlapping or expansive practices, and neither is it exhaustive. The distinctions are often fluid, but there are discernible traditions. These generalizations may be somewhat unfair as a typology, though it does offer a way of seeing a bigger picture.

1. One stream focuses on conversions, and this is strong in Presbyterian and Baptist traditions (especially in the 1700-1800s). Generally, these revivals focused on preaching, teaching, and convicting sinners and/or nominal Christians for the sake of their authentic conversion. This was often the function of protracted meetings or Gospel Meetings among Stone-Campbell congregations, and often they were intended to plant a congregation. Conversion (often including rededication) was the focus, and the preaching of the Word was the primary means.

2. Another stream focuses on igniting the fire of holy living, and this is primarily the concern of the Holiness Movement (1850s and beyond). Generally, these revivals focused on deep contrition, repentance, mourning, fasting until awakened by the Spirit through intimacy and encounter. The primary manifestation of this intimacy was expressed in worship and holding on to that presence. This is similar to what we are seeing at Asbury, whose roots are in the Wesleyan Holiness tradition. Sanctification was the focus, and worship was the primary means.

3. Another stream is represented by Classic Pentecostalism (1900s-1920s). Because Pentecostalism, at least in its origins, is closely linked to the Holiness Movement, much of what is present in Holiness revivals is also there in Pentecostalism. However, it is more expectant that the outcome will be speaking in tongues, miracles, and extraordinary expressions of the Spirit. These will result not only in personal and communal awakening but also serve the mission of God as a witness to their neighbors. Sanctification was the focus, and the tangible presence of God through extraordinary gifts was the evidence.

I am grateful for the Asbury revival. It is a rather classic example of Holiness Revivalism. That does not mean everything is simply psychological as if manufactured by the human spirit. God is no mere spectator when God’s people assemble. Quite the contrary, it appears (I can only speak from a distance) God has come to Asbury in the mode in which Asbury’s tradition is both seeking and expecting, and God is gracious.

Revivals are traditioned. They exist within traditions (as the three types outlined above indicate). There are historical precedents and models. They do not easily transcend the traditions in which they are nurtured and practiced. That does not make them bad or inauthentic, just different. One is no more “revivalistic” than the other as all of them experience spiritual awakening through their traditions, habits, and practices. God uses all these traditions, and the Spirit is the active agent in all the good fruit they produce.

These different traditions, however, are helpful to the body of Christ due to the different circumstances, personalities, cultures, etc. present in the world. We need all kinds for all kinds of people. Ultimately, what we need, however, is the work of the Spirit in our hearts and communities.

In addition, the historic church–the liturgical tradition, in particular–has not generally been regarded as revivalistic in the modern sense of that term (especially in light of the evangelical revivals of the 17th-20th centuries). Nevertheless, it seems to me, that the goal of revivals is present in liturgical contexts as well.

If the assembly is a moment where we encounter God, and the Spirit is active there to form people into the image of Christ, liturgy is also a means that the Spirit uses. This is most particularly true of the sacraments, which are not typically the focus of evangelical revivalism (with some notable exceptions, like Wesley himself). Yet, God is able to revive the soul and community through its assemblies for worship, sacraments, and service to God.

“Revival” comes in many ways but always by the Spirit of God. Authentic revival transforms. This can happen in a recovery group, a small group Bible study, a coordinated Gospel Meeting (e.g., Hardeman Tabernacle Sermons in the 1920s Nashville), chapel services, or churches.

Though initiated and led by the Spirit (since only the Spirit can sanctify us), revivals have traditions and traditioned practices. There is nothing wrong with that.

However, we must be careful that we don’t make a particular tradition of “revival” a one size fits all, or assume a particular tradition of “revival” is more authentic than another. Instead, let us celebrate every way in which the Spirit encounters us and give thanks for the fruit the Spirit bears in our lives and in the lives of others, even if it comes through different practices, traditions, and settings.

Sola Dei Gloria

Thoughts in Light of the Asbury “Revival”

On February 8, a rather routine chapel service at Asbury University developed into a continuous worship and nonstop prayer meeting where God has responded to the prayers for inner healing, deliverance, forgiveness, and reconciliation. According to what I’ve been told and the reports I have read, this continuous assembly of worship is student-led and is primarily worship in song with occasional testimonies and brief lessons from Scripture. An ordinary student chapel service grew into a “revival.” (I don’t use “revival” in a technical sense but in the sense of an awakening, a transformative encounter with God.)

I understand the skeptical voices; I can sense that in myself as well. Should not revival mean the poor have good news preached to them, the oppressed are liberated, and people are treated fairly and with dignity? Some might suggest that is true revival (or true fasting, to use Isaiah’s language in chapter 58). Others might insist that revival only comes through the preaching of the Word so that hearts are convicted by the gospel. Nevertheless, I think people assembled to love on God and receive God’s love is the most basic form (perhaps the starting point) of revival.

It is a both/and. Revival gatherings like the one at Asbury are means of grace through which God works for transformation. And they are invitations to embrace the whole mission of Jesus, including sharing Jesus with others, caring for the sick, sharing resources with the poor, and advocating for justice.

In my understanding, God is doing something every time believers assemble, whether in chapel, campground, home, or a church building—no matter where they assemble.  Every assembly has the seed of revival because of God’s own initiative. When the people of God gather to seek God’s face, God is present. God has promised an active loving presence, though sometimes that loving presence becomes a word of confrontation with those who use the assembly as a “den of robbers” (Jeremiah 7:11).

When we approach assembly as a “den of robbers” (“we are God’s people,” so it doesn’t matter whether our lives are transformed), or as a pep rally (we are here to pump you up and create a spiritual high for you as if this were a concert), or as mere duty (part of checklist to avoid Hell), then we miss the fundamental meaning of assembling. What is that? When we assemble as a community in the Spirit, God is present for us, with us, and in us to encounter (meet) us for the sake of communion with God and each other as well as the transformation of our lives into the image of Christ.

The assembly gathers as a community of believers to love on God, and God loves on us. More accurately, God takes the initiative by calling us and gathering us into assembly to love on us, and we respond to God by loving on God and each other. This circle of love, a mutually indwelling love from the Father through Son by the Spirit, is the most significant and fundamental dynamic within the assembly, though it is often scarred by pettiness, hatred, exclusion, and discrimination. The circle of love, however, is the dynamic that drives revival or awakening when we experience it.

God transforms us through encounter, which may come with a tangible sense of God’s presence, a quiet spirit, or many other descriptors. The Spirit of God is always active when we are assembled, creating space in our hearts to know God. We may experience this inwardly through mourning, repenting, lamenting, rejoicing, or praising. We experience this communally as believers share prayers, longings, songs, testimonies, Scriptures, and the Lord’s table. We are transformed by the work of God’s Spirit within us and among us. This inner revival is a gift we receive with gratitude.

An authentic encounter with the loving and holy God also calls us into the life of God. We are invited to participate in the communion of Triune God where there is shalom. Many seek peace and security in other things, including sex, drugs, consumerism, alcohol, nationalism among many other things. The high levels of anxiety in Western culture create a deep need for encounter with transcendence. A worshipping assembly can be an occasion for such an encounter. I know have experienced it many, many times. This is, in part, what many see in the work of God at Asbury—an anxious generation seeking peace in God’s love.

Moreover, an encounter with the loving and holy God calls into God’s mission. When we experience God’s transforming grace and holiness, our response is not only gratitude but participation in the mission of God. With Isaiah, we say, “Here I am! Send me!” (Isaiah 6:8). This mission is wholistic, including not only leading others to that encounter but also sharing shalom with others through hospitality, generosity, and advocacy. If revival stops with inner renewal (as wonderful a moment as that is), it fizzles out without the embrace of God’s mission. The embers of revival will die out without participation in God’s mission. This calls for endurance and persistence.

I am not a skeptic of revivals because I believe assembly is one place where God has promised to revive us. At the same time, I do apply discernment and wisdom (as best I can) to give thanks for the good fruit and to identify the bad fruit. Though God is present in every assembly, we are still human beings, and human beings bring with them not only their genuine search for God but also their self-interested baggage, including their consumeristic expectations.

What we yearn for, I hope, is a moment to genuinely bring our hearts before God and for God to transform our self-interested, consumeristic baggage into the image of the Son, both in communion with God and on mission with God.

That is my prayer every time I gather with the people of God, and when God does something more surprising than I imagine, I hope to receive it without deconstructing it.