THE CHURCH MUST FIRST REPENT - Chapters on Revival
By J. Edwin Orr
CHAPTER I
TIME WE WAKENED UP
“Wilt thou not revive us again: that thy people may rejoice in thee?” Psalm 85:6
Quite recently, it was my privilege to have a cordial conversation with a minister whose theological training placed him among the school of thought, described as "modernist" by opponents, but dubbed "advanced thinkers" by themselves.
"Why is it," I asked him, "that a man of your thinking is eager to co-operate with an evangelist whom you would call 'a conservative evangelical' ? "
"I'll tell you," he said. "It's the bankruptcy of our liberal gospel. I was trained to think in a certain way, and I suppose I could be described as a modernist even now. But the Abyssinian War was the most upsetting factor in my calculations for many a year.
"You know, Orr," he went on, "that I and many like me had felt that the Kingdom of God on earth was just round the corner, and that the principles of Christ were permeating the nations in every way. Our friend, Il Duce, crumpled the dream like a ball of paper.
"And it has left us stranded. We have been forced to reconsider everything. Yes. The war in Ethiopia was a tragic thing for Ethiopians. But I'll tell you what it did for me. It made me see that we'll never get the nations to follow Christ, until we get men converted. So I am back to the old emphasis—Ye must be born again—same as you, Orr!". . . . .
It is about time we wakened up.
We need a revival.. . . . .
It is truly remarkable how much the hearts of people are being turned nowadays toward this very subject of revival. His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury has made his appeal to the British nation—the much-discussed, much-applauded, much-derided Recall to Religion. The appeal means something. It is significant beyond measure, for it attempts to clothe (in archiepiscopal words) the yearning of all classes for something, something from God. It was likewise strange how the Almighty used the regretted Constitutional Crisis to stir the conscience of a backslidden but professedly-Christian nation. That tragedy engraved the sanctity of marriage upon the minds of the common people, and it focused attention upon the ever-high standards of Christian living. As a result, it is easier to discuss religion. And revival is a less obsolete word now. I know that the expression of the yearning after God is oft-times crude. I don't care. Every time a Sunday newspaper devotes a page to the Bible—and acquaintances tell me that it is a growing habit—I rejoice because I know that Fleet Street has its fingers upon the pulse of the nation. Fleet Street caters for the masses. If they want capital ess, capital ee, capital ex—Fleet Street seldom disappoints them. If they hunger after God, the newshawks stalk a neglected quarry, and the result is an increasing number of articles on religion. I remember that when the Lord was blessing our meetings in Western Australia, one enterprising editor interviewed everybody religious—including the parish priests of the Roman Catholic Church, and certain blatant but baptised agnostics—on "The Possibility of a Religious Revival." It amused me, but it was significant. The Editor knew what his readers were talking about. The world is hungry —and it cannot find a name for its unusual appetite. And just as some men smoke to stave off hunger, so the world turns to the fumes of pleasure to quench the craving for food for the soul.
My dictionary defines revival thus:
"Recovery from languor, neglect or depression : renewed performance, as of a play : a time of extraordinary religious awakening : renewal of trade."
To a Christian, a revival is certainly a time of religious awakening, and that is the definition that we shall use. But even in the religious world, revival is a misunderstood word. In one part of the United States, "a revival" is a Church membership drive, invariably arranged during August. To others, even in England, a revival is nothing more than an evangelistic campaign. One must point out that a revival may produce an evangelistic campaign: and conversely, an evangelistic campaign may produce a revival. But it is imperative that the Christian should know that a revival is an awakening brought about by the Blessed Holy Spirit in the hearts of believing people. It is not the concern of the outside world—save inasmuch as revived Christians win their unconverted friends and enemies.
Charles G. Finney, whose legal mind and powerful preaching made him at once the greatest theorist and the greatest demonstrator of revival in recent history, deals with fundamentals when he writes: " A revival of religion presupposes a declension."
Let us study the matter further. Consider the Great Commission given by our Lord before His Ascension—" All power is given unto Me . . . Go ye therefore . . . Lo, I am with you alway ..."
History has recorded the obedience of the first generation of Christians to that command—from different points of view. But it is patent that the world got to know about the Great Propaganda in record time. Someone has estimated that they carried the Gospel to ten million people within the space of the first century.
Comparison with the activity of to-day would be odious. In spite of the multitude of missionary agencies, the efforts of our generation of Christians is not even keeping pace with the normal growth of population. It is a fact that there are millions more heathen to-day in China than when Hudson Taylor first set foot in that vast country. There are millions more heathen in Africa to-day than when Livingstone first heard the roar of Victoria Falls, the "smoke that thunders." Millions more profess the creed of Islam than when Raymond Lull laid down his life in North Africa.
What better is it in Christendom ? Even in the homelands, we have growing indifference and open pagan culture. The need of revival, widely admitted to-day, presupposes a declension. What has caused the declension? Only one thing. Backsliding in the Church.
Once upon a time, I went to see my sister's first baby.
“But he is very small,” I told her.
“Not at all,” said she, “he’s seven pounds in weight.”
“Well. That’s not much!”
"Never mind. He'll grow."
And glow he did, I quite suppose that my little nephew will be a tall man one day, perhaps five foot eleven, like his father, and most likely more than the five foot seven of his uncle Ebby, as he called me at first. There we have a type of normal growth.
But take another example. When I was engaged in Rover Scout work, I distributed parcels at Christmas time to little crippled children. One boy that I met had been born a year after the return of his war-maimed father. This baby had been apparently normal, but as the months rolled by, their rosy hopes of him were not justified. To-day he is nineteen years old—but he is a cripple. He cannot bath himself any more than a baby. He cannot feed himself. He cannot put on his clothes. He cannot talk any more than a four-year-old. The poor fellow is a burden to his family as well as a tragedy to himself. Why? Why, you ask me. Two words explain. Infantile Paralysis.
Likewise, it is spiritual Infantile Paralysis that cripples the Church to-day in many of its members —yes, even in the best evangelical circles. The majority of born-again people have not grown up. They cannot feed themselves. They cannot cleanse themselves. They cannot even test themselves in the promises of their Father. They are a tragedy to themselves and a burden to the family.
Now the cure for all this is revival. Study the Old Testament. Enquire in the New. Read up Church history. You will find that the cure for every great apostasy or backsliding was nothing short of a revival. Revival is God's intervention when His people are on the down-grade.
Take, for instance, the great evangelical movement under the Wesleys and their contemporaries. It affected not only Methodism, but it moulded the Church of England, and crystallised the Evangelical party there, besides stirring every other denomination. A secular historian says that it saved England from the terrors of a "French Revolution " and its welter of blood. France expelled the Huguenots and the Revolution followed: and to-day France is dominated by a pagan philosophy, the heritage of the eighteenth century. England welcomed the Reformation and revival followed. We thank God for the influence which remains in the body of the nation.
And do we really need revival nowadays ? Of course we do. It is the crying need of the hour. A short time ago, I was talking to a dear friend and prayer partner of mine, Evan Roberts, whom God used so mightily in the great Welsh revival. I quote him from memory.
"People ask me, my brother," he said, "if I see any signs of the revival for whose corning we all pray. Now, as you travel about, you may see the positive signs, but I am not so privileged just now. I tell them that I see all the negative signs. The churches seem to be at rock-bottom in their decline. The turning point is at hand.
"Indeed," he went on, "I would compare the state of the true Church to-day with the state of the prodigal son in the far country just before he went home to his father. Mark you, he has not started for home yet . . . he is still among the swine and the husks, but he is ‘utterly fed-up.’ As I would have said of the prodigal son, 'He won't be there much longer'—so I predict of the Church as it is to-day."
It is about time we wakened up.