The first weekend in November, the doors of all sites of Crossroads Church will be closed.
In the church world, this is a risky move. Lives are built on rhythm, and a change of schedule throws that off. It disrupts family habits of attendance. It can create a lag in momentum. It could decrease trust in the community. It threatens charitable giving for the week. It risks assumptions being made as to the “why.”
There is no crisis behind the scenes; no dire infrastructure problem; no government mandate or threat of danger. We’re running a different play and heading outside because of a simple spiritual principle: If you keep doing the same thing, you’ll keep getting the same result.
To be sure, our “same result” isn’t a bad thing. There’s plenty here to celebrate. Our church is growing. New people are coming to the faith. We’re on track to have the most baptisms this year than we have had in our 29-year history. Kids’ Club and Student Ministry are busting at the seams. We have new in-room technology at our broadcast site, Oakley, that we’re only beginning to learn to leverage. There’s never been a better time to attend a Crossroads service.
All that is true—and, we want more. So we’re going outside to host a Revival.
Periodically, throughout the history of the church, the people of God have gone through concentrated periods of spiritual rebirth, rejuvenation, and renewal. We call these historical outpourings of God’s presence, grace, and favor “revivals.”
While nothing about God comes down to a math equation, if you look close enough, you can observe patterns. Dr. Michael McClymond, one of the world’s foremost authorities on Christian revival movements, believes revivals occur every 50 years or so. At this point in American history, we’re overdue for one—and I want to be included in the next one.
Across nearly all impactful revival movements of the past, we find the people of God making themselves uncomfortable for a chance to encounter the divine. During the First Great Awakening (1734-1743), that meant gathering outside, in the elements, to hear traveling preachers. At the Cane Ridge Revival (1801), in rural Kentucky, it meant traveling and camping for days in order to participate. During the Businessman’s Revival (1857), in New York City, it meant giving up your lunch hour to pray, day after day after day. At the Azusa Street Revival (1906), that meant filing into an abandoned warehouse, on the wrong side of the tracks, to worship and pray together.
I could go on and on, but you get the picture. Weekend worship gatherings are the bread and butter of the church. We should keep doing them. We should make them excellent, compelling, and creative. But nearly all the major tidal waves of God’s presence, throughout history, have happened outside four walls and a steeple.
At each of these revivals, and hundreds more that I don’t have time to mention, God moved in powerful ways among his people. Many were healed of incurable diseases. Some spoke in languages they’d had no formal training in. Others received prophetic visions or words of encouragement. Some found supernatural strength to pray for long stretches of time. Others practiced radical generosity and hospitality.
Revivals aren’t just supernatural experiences for the faithful—they ripple out into culture at large. Historians agree that, if it weren’t for the First Great Awakening, the movement toward American independence from England might have never happened. The Second Great Awakening (1820s-1840s) planted and watered seeds of abolitionism that would eventually lead to freedom for all enslaved peoples in America. The Azusa Street Revival birthed fresh missionary movements that took the message of Jesus around the globe.
Weekend worship gatherings are great. But we want more. More family, friends, and neighbors to understand the radical love God has for them. More impact on our local communities. More powerful signs of God’s presence in our midst. More healings. More prayers answered. More marriages restored. More hope for people caught in addiction. More connection for those facing loneliness. More hungry people fed. More justice for the oppressed. More smiles. More laughter. More love.
If it takes closing our buildings and funneling all our people—and anyone else who wants to join— onto 800+ acres on the banks of the Ohio River, then so be it.
The first winds of revival appear to be blowing around the world. In the United Kingdom, church attendance is soaring, especially among young men. The church in France has reported a record number of baptisms this year. The “underground” church in countries that are antagonistic to the faith, like China and the Middle East, continues to grow at a staggering pace. And the name of Jesus can be heard coming from the lips of the cultural elite, from athletes, to musicians, to late-night hosts.
If something is in the water, I want to be caught in the current. It’s true that you can’t force God’s hand. But history shows us that, like my friend Jon Tyson often says, “God goes where He is wanted.”
October 31st through November 2nd, on rolling hills east of Cincinnati, tens of thousands of us will gather to worship and seek God; to hear teaching and spend time in prayer; to laugh around campfires and to experience the blessing of community. Come for an hour, come for three days, or anything in between. With one voice, we will ask God for a unique touch of His presence, to send revival among us.
Whether He does, or does not, is his prerogative. But I know this: there is no other place, on the entire globe, that I’d rather be that weekend—and that includes church.
If you want something different, you have to do something different. No matter your spiritual background, you’re welcome at Revival. More information and details can be found here.
