A Report on the Asbury Outpouring
A Report on the Asbury Outpouring
I think I'm unable to stop speaking about what I have seen and heard.
I’m sitting in a Holiday Inn Express in rural Kentucky, trying to process what I’ve tasted and seen. When I was in Oklahoma for a family wedding, “only” a ten-hour drive from Wilmore, Kentucky, I didn’t think I could pass up the opportunity to experience what God was doing at Asbury University. For years now, I’ve been intrigued and inspired by stories of God’s reviving grace among his people. I took a class with the esteemed theological historian Tom Nettles at Southern Seminary on revival that catalyzed my longings. I’ve long wondered at the experience of an extraordinary move of God. So I drove to Asbury. I spent awhile outside with the hundreds (thousands?) of people waiting to enter the capacity Hughes auditorium, the main chapel. They have multiple overflow sites, and a video of the inside of the chapel playing where folks can watch from the lawn.
It was surreal to be there, because my wife is an Asbury alum. For years she has wanted us to visit together, but it’s never worked out logistically. It made the connection a little more special for me, when I finally got inside. I texted her video. “Surreal,” she said, “I was in that chapel three days a week for three years.” I experienced the movement in the chapel for about three hours on Wednesday night, wrestling between observing the story and participating in it. I tried to do both, and by God’s grace I think I was able to do both. Here are some thoughts on the marks of the Outpouring (as the school itself is calling it).
A Normal Experience
I explained to someone recently that a revival is the normal working of God’s Spirit among God’s people, but just cranked up to 11. It’s ordinary worship with extraordinary passion. I’ve known conceptually that revival is just that. So I shouldn’t have been surprised by how normal the experience at Asbury was. Folks talking, praying, laughing, crying, singing, clapping. I didn’t feel like I was experiencing an alien invasion or something different than the normal means of grace. I felt like I was experiencing the normal means of grace, but fully themselves. Let me illustrate this thought. At Christmas, we will put inflatable decorations outside our house, like a giant inflatable Mickey Mouse Santa Claus that we had for a number of years. As that Mickey Santa aged, it would get a little “droopy,” as the built in fan didn’t work as well. Mickey Santa would sag and sometimes lose power and deflate completely. It was the same Mickey Santa the whole time, but it needed its full inflation to be fully itself. A deflated or saggy church is still the church. But in a reviving work of grace, the Spirit fully fills the worship of the church so that the church can be fully itself.
A Diverse Experience
Several people have pushed back against the revival because of the largely homogeneous, white crowd that has gathered. In one sense, I get it. I’ve long pushed back on white, evangelical spaces for their lack of diversity. Too often, the homogeneity or “sameness” stems from a refusal to adjust cultural preferences or genuinely love others in the fullness of who God made them. Additionally, some have said that a worship experience that feels good but doesn’t lead to tangible action isn’t a true revival. I get that, too. Yes and amen. Obviously, it’s too fresh to know for sure, but I’m not sure that those criticisms apply to the Asbury Outpouring. First, I saw a great amount of generational and ethnic diversity in the room—in rural Kentucky! It was a movement that looked quite a bit like the gathering of the nations, peoples, tribes, and tongues around the throne (Revelation 5:9, 7:9). Second, there were explicit calls to love neighbor and repent of not loving neighbor. Dozens of people around me wept and flooded to the front of the chapel to repent of not loving their neighbors. Zach Meerkreebs, the pastor who preached the sermon at the chapel that sparked the outpouring last week, said, “If you’re just feeding on this experience and not exercising out the love of God toward others, you’re just getting fat.”
A Stewarded Experience
The generosity and leadership of the Asbury students, staff, faculty, and administration impressed me. One person gave out pizza in the long line outside of the chapel. They were giving away water and granola bars in the foyer once you got inside. Near the end of my time in the chapel, I went to grab a water. “Are these free?” I asked the woman at the table. “Yes, just like salvation,” she replied. “Amen,” I said. Amen, I say again. The administration of the gathering itself allowed for freedom, but reduced chaos. There wasn’t any whacky, disordered “enthusiasm” (to use an older term related to revival). At 11pm on Wednesday night, they announced that they were going to close the chapel for 11 hours, from 1am to noon (I’m writing this Thursday morning and going back in a couple of hours when they reopen). “I really don’t think we’re quenching the Spirit,” said Meerkreebs when he announced this. “We’re trying to steward this moment for safety and stability.” And sleep, they acknowledged. We’re embodied creatures. We need sleep. It’s a gift from God. I think it was a courageous decision of faith to shut down for the night after 130 hours of uninterrupted worship. It shows that if the Spirit is moving, he will still be there at noon. It shows faith instead of fear of losing “momentum.”
A Generational Experience
Pastor Jon Tyson is right when he says that this is a Gen Z moment, “by Gen Z, for Gen Z.” There were thousands of students from colleges all over, not just Asbury. The students led worship, both on the platform and on the floor in the front, middle of the chapel. Folks have reported that those with an agenda, politically partisan or otherwise, have been told, “You can be here, but you can’t take over.” I couldn’t help but wonder whether Jesus entrusted this moment to Gen Z, because they will not let his kingdom agenda be coopted by a politically partisan one.
A Triune Experience
Most importantly, God is the star of the Asbury Outpouring. The President of the school spoke on Wednesday night and said, “If this isn’t about Jesus, I don’t want any part of it.” Jesus is making himself known by his Spirit. Not the curse-word-Jesus of the world or the too-often cliche-Jesus of the church, but the Christ-Jesus who was crucified and raised, who reigns and will return. That tells me this thing is real, because the Spirit exalts the Son. We exalted the goodness of the Father, known in the Son, in the fellowship of the Spirit. The theme that has recurred was a verse that was proclaimed last night, “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). “The Lord” there is the Hebrew “Yahweh,” the God of creation and covenant, the one named “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). The triune God and his gospel is the star of the show at Asbury.
I told my wife that I was nervous to attend the revival, because I didn’t want to be disappointed in the experience, or in my own unstirred heart. She wisely said, “Pray and don’t be afraid.” As I was worshipping and watching on Wednesday, I started to worry, again, that my cold heart was missing out. But I tried to lean in and ask God for his grace. The objective existence of God and his grace is real, no matter my present, subjective experience of them. I was reminded that it’s not about my feelings but about giving God what he’s worth. I left at midnight, an hour before closing, because I was worried I would fall asleep on my 30 minute drive back to my hotel through the dark, narrow Kentucky roads. Walking out of the chapel, I felt a sense of peaceful joy and joyful peace that struck me as unique. I don’t want to exaggerate, but it felt—and feels—different than what I’ve felt before. It’s like when you’ve eaten a perfect meal and you’re fully satisfied, yet still somehow a little hungry, eager to eat that meal again.
I think the Asbury Outpouring is real, and I’m praying it spreads. Starting with me.