evangelicals

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Looking through the lens of history, the 2023 Asbury revival is 'deja vu' all over again

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Looking through the lens of history, the 2023 Asbury revival is 'deja vu' all over again

The atmosphere in Hughes auditorium was electric as Asbury students -- many in tears -- streamed to the altar to pray, while worshippers sang hymns, mixed with Bible readings, testimonies and public prayers of repentance.

Administrators cancelled classes, grasping that this ordinary chapel service was the start of something bigger -- a 144-hour wave of worship that drew thousands to Wilmore, Kentucky, while similar revivals began on other Christian and secular campuses across the nation.

The year was 1970.

Then again, revivals rocked Asbury College -- now a liberal-arts university -- in 1908, 1921, 1950, 1958 and on other occasions. Historians will now add 2023.

The revival that began on February 8 is "like deja vu all over again," said Stephen A. Seamands, who was a senior in 1970 and returned to teach for nearly 40 years at Asbury Theological Seminary.

"The wildness of these events is that they're actually un-wild. The atmosphere is serene, deep and at times rather quiet," he said. "It's like a veil is pulled back and students see Jesus for the first time -- Jesus manifested in a new and powerful way."

Outsiders may assume that this two-week revival "is over," after Asbury leaders announced that services would be moved off campus, with students moving toward a regular academic and chapel schedule. At one point, as many as 20,000 people had flocked to central Kentucky.

"Never in my life will I forget this," said Asbury University President Kevin J. Brown, in a public statement. "Never in my life have I been so proud to say that I am a part of Asbury University. I write this with tears. The people here are so special."

Seamands said it "will take 30 years or so" to discern what happened. Revivals, he explained, begin with an awakening inside a Christian community -- that's stage one. True revivals, throughout history, have led to evangelism, missions and "efforts for social justice" at the national and global levels.

"It's also clear that this Asbury revival is about Gen Z and its hunger for genuine worship," said Seamands, referring to Americans born in the Internet age.

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Standing on the shoulders of giants: Urban pastor wrestles with his backwoods family roots

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Standing on the shoulders of giants: Urban pastor wrestles with his backwoods family roots

Growing up in West Virginia, the Rev. Michael Clary always wondered about some of the archaic language his elders used, words like "yonder" and "reckon."

Then he learned that his grandfather -- a steel-mill worker and country preacher -- had memorized the classic King James Bible by listening to tapes during his long drives to the factory. He had a sixth-grade education and, if he couldn't spell something, he could still quote a verse that contained the word and then find it in his Bible.

All that scripture soaked in -- deep. Thus, "I reckon" wasn't just another way to say "probably." It was New Testament language, such as: "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."

These Appalachian roots caused pangs of shame during graduate school, said Clary, who leads Christ the King Church, a Southern Baptist congregation in Cincinnati.

Soon after that, "I was pastoring a fast growing church in an urban environment, and a spirit of elitism had infected us," he wrote, in a Twitter stream that went viral. "The people we felt free to mock were conservative, uneducated, backwoods fundies. … They lacked the theological sophistication and cultural insight I had acquired while doing campus ministry and studying at seminary."

The bottom line: "I had moved on. I was better than them. I was more learned and cultured. I had 'seen the world' and they hadn't."

Clary said he wrote those "words with tears in my eyes." Reached by telephone, he explained that he was facing the kinds of church tensions that arise while defending traditional doctrines in a flock located a few blocks from the University of Cincinnati. It's hard to be "winsome" -- a buzz word today -- while trying to remain faithful in a bitterly divided culture.

That's precisely why this painful, personal Twitter thread -- republished as one text on several websites in recent weeks -- rang true, noted John Stonestreet, president of the Colson Center for Christian Worldview.

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When did prayer become acceptable to NFL? When a crisis happened on live television

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When did prayer become acceptable to NFL? When a crisis happened on live television

Super Bowls create media storms, but many journalists and sports executives thought what happened in 1988 was totally out of bounds.

The establishment was shocked when players and coaches from Denver and Washington, D.C., held a prayer meeting on the eve of this NFL rite. The powers that be worried that "fraternization" of this kind could damage this clash between gridiron warriors.

To make matters worse, players from competing teams soon began kneeling in post-game, on-field prayer huddles as a symbol of unity and, often, shared concerns about injured players. Players waved off league efforts to stop the prayer circles.

"For the NFL, this was a corporate thing," said historian Paul Putz, of Baylor University's Faith & Sports Institute. Executives are "fine with prayer, as long as it isn't tied to anything controversial or a specific brand of religion. …

"The NFL didn't mind prayers that were out of sight, maybe in locker rooms with chaplains. But then things started happening on television. That was too much."

That was then. The electric wave of prayer that swept America after Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin's heart-stopping injury was, he said, a "critical mass" moment and a sign of changing times -- maybe.

The key was that this drama happened on "Monday Night Football," with anguished players from both teams huddled around Hamlin near midfield, many visibly praying, as first responders fought to save his life.

It was natural for broadcasters to acknowledge the explosion of social-media commentary from athletes, coaches and others -- including fervent calls for prayer. All 32 NFL teams soon posted #PrayForDamar appeals.

"We have never seen anything like this before," said Putz. It became clear that it "was OK to tweet messages that went way beyond the usual thoughts and prayers."

The question, added Putz, is what happens next.

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All those attacks on churches? Were they part of the year's top religion-beat news story?

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All those attacks on churches? Were they part of the year's top religion-beat news story?

In the years before Roe v. Wade, one of America's largest Christian flocks struggled to find a way to condemn abortion, while also opposing bans on abortion.

A 1971 resolution said: "Some advocate that there be no abortion legislation, thus making the decision a purely private matter between a woman and her doctor" while others "advocate no legal abortion," permitting it "only if the life of the mother is threatened." Thus, it backed legislation allowing "abortion under such conditions as rape, incest, clear evidence of severe fetal deformity, and carefully ascertained evidence of the likelihood of damage to the emotional, mental, and physical health of the mother."

After the 1973 Roe decision, the same body stressed the "limited role of government" in abortion questions, while supporting a "full range of medical services and personal counseling" for expectant mothers.

That was the Southern Baptist Convention -- before its conservative wing gained control, creating a powerful cultural force against abortion rights.

Churches were always active in abortion debates, with some embracing centuries of doctrine on the sanctity of human life, while overs became strategic abortion-rights supporters. Thus, journalists in the Religion News Association named the Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe v. Wade as the year's top American religion-news story. Now churches -- left and right face -- face the challenge of proclaiming certainties while many states seek compromise.

Stressing politics, the RNA stated: "The Supreme Court overturns the 1973 Roe v. Wade precedent and says there is no constitutional right to abortion, sparking battles in courts and state legislatures and driving voters to the November polls in high numbers. More than a dozen states enact abortion bans, while voters reject constitutional abortion restrictions in conservative Kansas and Kentucky and put abortion rights in three other states' constitutions."

This poll avoided other religion-news elements of this story, such as acts of violence against churches -- especially Catholic parishes -- and crisis pregnancy centers, ranging from vandalism to arson, from the interruption of sacred rites to the destruction of sacred art. Protestors marched at the homes of SCOTUS justices and police arrested an armed man who threatened to invade the house of Justice Brett Kavanaugh.

This year, the RNA added an international list, selecting Russia's war against Ukraine as the top story, in part because of bitter tensions between the Russian Orthodox Church and the new Orthodox Church of Ukraine, backed by the United States and the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate in Turkey.

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Question for church leaders: Is your congregation ready to help young widowers?

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Question for church leaders: Is your congregation ready to help young widowers?

There was no way that Christmas was going to be easy for Daniel Brooker and his two young children after his wife Lyndsie lost her 10-year battle with cancer.

At their church, friends cautiously asked if Brooker and one of his kids wanted to play a role in the Christmas service -- making their story part of a season of new life.

"My church saw ME, as a person" that first Christmas, said Brooker, a 37-year-old marketing specialist for a team of financial advisors near Atlanta. It was crucial that this offer "gave us something to do, something that didn't ask us to hide what was happening. … They offered us this opportunity and let me think about it. They didn't force anything."

That positive experience became part of the process that led Brooker and an all-volunteer team of widowers, mentors, pastors and friends to create Refuge Widowers, a ministry for men who have lost their wives, especially young men with children.

This work grew out of the conviction, he said, that religious congregations have long demonstrated the ability to rally around widows -- in part because women often play crucial roles in hospitality and care-giving ministries.

"Women are gifted at this. They know what to do," said Brooker, who has since married a widow, Brittany, with three children of her own. "As much as I love the church, I've learned things are often different for widowers. … Church people aren't trained to step in and fight through grief with a man."

Yes, the faithful brought food and gift cards after his wife's death. Some people volunteered with child-care as he tried to create new patterns for work and home life. Before long, however, many assumed that the best way to help was to funnel Brooker into the singles group. "Folks really didn't know what to do with me," he said.

Eventually, he met another young widower, and began building a support network. This evolved into RefugeeWidowers.com, which worked with 14 men in 2020, 16 in its second year and 18 this year.

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When is Christmas? That depends on the person asking

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When is Christmas? That depends on the person asking

On church calendars, parents and grandparents circle this December event with red ink.

The problem for clergy is simple: When do they schedule that special Christmas service, or that concert full of Christmas classics?

"Evangelicals, and especially Baptists, tend to be rather pragmatic about these decisions. We want the most bang for our bucks and we want as many people as possible" in the pews, said Joshua Waggener, professor of church music and worship at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas.

One thing is certain: "You have to have those little kids up there singing 'Little Drummer Boy.' It's pragmatic. For most people, I don't think theology has anything to do with" the timing.

This reality affects when churches schedule special events, especially in December -- when their members wrestle with school calendars, travel, office parties, family traditions and, yes, worship services. Meanwhile, civic groups, shopping malls and mass media offer "The Holidays," a cultural tsunami that begins weeks before Thanksgiving.

In churches with centuries of liturgical traditions, the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ is Dec. 25, following the quiet season of Advent (Latin for "toward the coming"). This year, Christmas falls on Sunday and, for Catholics, Anglicans and others, the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass is one of the year's most popular rites. This opens a festive season that continues through Jan. 6, the Feast of the Epiphany. Many Eastern Orthodox Christians follow the ancient Julian calendar and celebrate Christmas on Jan. 7, after Nativity Lent.

In the United States, some kind of Christmas Eve service remains the big draw, according to almost half (48%) of Protestant pastors contacted in a new study by Lifeway Research. The frequency of high-attendance church events builds until Christmas Eve, then declines sharply.

In this survey, mainline Protestant clergy (60%) were more likely than evangelicals (44%) to say Christmas Eve rites drew the most people, with Lutherans (84%) being the most likely to worship on Christmas Eve. In general, evangelical pastors (30%) said their high-attendance events came during the third week of December (30%).

Some churches fared better than others with events earlier in December.

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Latest empty tomb, inc., numbers: Do churches still have funds for charity and missions?

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Latest empty tomb, inc., numbers: Do churches still have funds for charity and missions?

Back in the heady church-growth days of the 1980s and 1990s, researchers John and Sylvia Ronsvalle began hearing caution creep into their interviews with church leaders.

Denominational leaders were especially uncomfortable when asked about declines in giving to overseas missions and projects to help the poor.

Sylvia Ronsvalle said the leader of one large congregation gave this blunt response: "Ah! No! We can't promote missions because there won't be enough for our seminaries." She responded: "Well, I think people would be more interested in your seminaries if you were actually impacting global needs in Jesus' name."

That encounter, and many others, ended up in "Behind the Stained Glass Windows: Money Dynamics in the Church," one of many publications the Ronsvalles have produced while leading empty tomb, inc. Their center also serves as a hub for missions in Champaign, Illinois, their home for 50 years.

Danger signs began decades ago. Giving to religious groups -- defined in terms of potential donations based on after-tax incomes -- peaked in 1960 and then began to decline, even as church membership numbers and budgets kept rising.

This trend "pre-dated many of the controversial issues that were to emerge by the end of the 1960s," noted the 31st annual empty tomb report, based on 2019 numbers. In mainline and evangelical denominations "per member giving in current dollars, as well as in inflation-adjusted dollars and as a portion of income" was lower in 2019 than the year before.

Then COVID-19 hit. But the pandemic's impact in pews only made an ongoing charity funding crisis more obvious, said Sylvia Ronsvalle, in a telephone interview.

Membership and worship attendance numbers plummeted in recent decades in mainline churches and are now declining or plateaued in many evangelical groups. Meanwhile, marriage and birth rates keep falling, while the number of religiously unaffiliated Americans -- the so-called "Nones" -- keeps rising.

The result is a survival mindset in which religious leaders focus on the "bottom line," leading to fewer efforts to support mission work of all kinds.

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Olasky flashback: Back to the evangelical clashes over character and two-party politics

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Olasky flashback: Back to the evangelical clashes over character and two-party politics

It was totally logical for the Southern Baptist Convention to pass its "Resolution on Moral Character of Public Officials" in 1998.

Consider this "whereas" clause: "Some journalists report that many Americans are willing to excuse or overlook immoral or illegal conduct by unrepentant public officials so long as economic prosperity prevails." This was followed by: "Tolerance of serious wrong by leaders sears the conscience of the culture, spawns unrestrained immorality and lawlessness in the society, and surely results in God's judgment."

Thus, the SBC urged American leaders to "live by the highest standards of morality both in their private actions and in their public duties."

Yes, this resolution passed soon after the infamous claim by President Bill Clinton, a Southern Baptist, that "I did not have sexual relations with that woman."

It was easy to predict who thought Clinton should exit the White House, noted conservative writer Marvin Olasky, who was writing "The American Leadership Tradition: Moral Vision from Washington to Clinton" at that time.

"In poker, you really don't know what cards someone has," said Olasky, reached by telephone. "You can't tell, with certainty, the character of a politician. … In that book, I argued that the state of a man's marriage was a strong tell. If he's faithful in his marriage, he's likely to be faithful to the nation."

Olasky's fellow religious conservatives praised the book. But things changed when he wrote a World magazine essay in 2016 entitled, "Unfit for power," arguing that Donald Trump should step aside as the Republican nominee.

"Clinton had denied having a sexual relationship with Monica Lewinsky, but her stained blue dress bearing Clinton's DNA was proof that he had used his power for adulterous purposes, and then lied about it," wrote Olasky. Then there was the videotape showing "Trump making lewd remarks about groping women's genitals. While many opponents … have criticized Trump's character, the video gave us new information about how Trump views power as a means to gratify himself."

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Do American believers really want to sit in pews surrounded by their political clones?

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Do American believers really want to sit in pews surrounded by their political clones?

Just over half of churchgoing American Protestants went into the tense midterm elections believing that the people in the pews around them would vote the same way they did.

A Lifeway Research online survey in September found that 50% of those in its national panel agreed with the statement, "I prefer to attend a church where people share my political beliefs, while 55% agreed that "My political views match those of most people at my church." At the same time, 10% were not sure about the first question and 22% the second.

"What we are seeing is a pretty complex situation," said Scott McConnell, executive director at Lifeway Research. While churchgoers are divided on the need for political uniformity in their pews, there are enough believers who take that stance to prove that "this is not one or two people that pastors need to talk to and try to understand. This is a GROUP of people in most of our churches and that's something pastors have to deal with now."

This new survey began with questions used in 2017, he noted, and while the results are similar some new trends are clear. In the earlier survey, 51% of the respondents felt their church was politically homogenous, with only 11% "strongly" agreeing. Now, 21% strongly agree. Also, a rising number of believers assume they can predict the politics of others in their churches. In 2017, 30% were unsure if they shared the views of others in their congregations, but that number dropped to 22% this time.

In a survey result clashing with a popular stereotype, those with evangelical beliefs (44%) were less likely than non-evangelicals (54%) to say they wanted a church in which believers shared their political views. The survey defined "evangelical" in doctrinal terms, stressing beliefs such as, "The Bible is the highest authority for what I believe" and "Only those who trust in Jesus Christ alone as their Savior receive God's free gift of eternal salvation." Other significant results included:

* Methodists (88%) and those attending Restorationist movement congregations, such as the Churches of Christ, were more likely (80%) to seek political unity in the pews. Among other flocks, Baptists (47%), Presbyterians (47%), Lutherans (38%) and nondenominational believers (38%) were less likely to do so.