I once pastored a church that was the home of a significant revival in 1921. Part of the Fisherman’s Revival, Wick Salvation Army and Wick Baptist Church reported hundreds of people converting to Christ and even more being renewed by the Spirit.
I’ve held in my hands the firsthand reports of there being people at the Mercy Seat ten rows deep; of officers being drafted in from all over Scotland to help with the meetings, the prayer ministry and the follow up. Whilst I was in Wick, there were people in the congregation whose parents had been saved in the revival.
One weekend during our short time there, we hosted a guest speaker who had come to speak about having a passion for the lost and for evangelism. On the Sunday morning he spoke on a passage in Luke’s gospel, the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16: 19 – 21), which I read again this morning on my way through Luke’s gospel. After the message, as was common in Salvation Army worship, there was an appeal where people could come forward for prayer and so a time of worship as that happened.
Well, I don’t really know what happened in that meeting, but there fell upon me such a heaviness of heart and burden for those in need of Christ, in combination with a sense of grief and mourning about lack of passion in the church. To be honest, at the time, I thought I was having a breakdown! Really messy sobbing which probably left a lot feeling quite uncomfortable, but there we go.
The parable itself is harrowing – about Abraham in the unquenchable fire longing for even a drop of water on his tongue and yet being denied because, for him, it is too late. He then pleads for a messenger to be sent to his brothers, but there seems to be little hope for them either. It’s a parable about wealth, poverty and injustice, yes, but it’s setting in depicting the gulf between heaven and Hades is strong.
I sit here now with a number of questions: have I hardened my heart to the desperate need of those without Christ? Do I still weep over them? Do we? Do I block out or explain away the full consequences of the gospel simply because I am a recipient of its benefits and ‘I’m alright, Jack’? Do we seek renewal or revival just for ourselves, or for a lost generation to receive the blessing of salvation?
Disheartening though the response of the body of Christ can sometimes can be, I hope at the very least I have been faithful in calling the church to active mission in the world and have been faithful to the gospel ministry I covenanted my life to: ‘to live to win souls and to make their salvation the first purpose of my life.’
Lord, help us all.