By now, you’ve probably heard about what happened at Asbury University for nearly two weeks; secular as well as Christian news outlets have been talking and writing about it. Some have called it a revival, while some prefer the term “outpouring;” others are skeptical, at best. This movement, regardless of what you want to call it, has spread to at least six other universities as well.

My purpose in this post is not to decide which term best fits what has happened at Asbury University; it is, to start with, to examine what people who were actually a part of it have been saying about it. The event began on February 8, when ~20 students and the worship team decided to stay past the end of the regular chapel service. One student began to confess his sins, which I was very encouraged to read about. Here’s what Alexandra Presta, a senior, wrote on that first night: “To confess, reconcile, heal and allow prayers to be spoken over us — He knew what we needed to do and helped us do it.” More on confession later. There was lots of singing and praying (including some in tongues) throughout the 13 days; there was an instance (caught on video) of what may or may not have been a demon being cast out of someone; and there was some preaching. Many students have talked about the spiritual and accompanying emotional high of being a part of it.

At least one student says that there was consistent preaching of the Gospel, but other students have contradicted that claim. Samuel Sey, an op-ed contributor for the Christian Post, says that he has watched hundreds of video clips of the event and has yet to see a clear presentation of the Gospel; he admits that doesn’t mean people weren’t preaching the Gospel there. However, what one unnamed student said is troubling: “Unfortunately, I have first-account experience and conversations with people who are attending and speaking on the ‘greatness’ of revival who are actively living in sin (to be blunt).” This gets at the heart of the issue: true revival results in, among other things, confession of sin and repentance from it, meaning that people will then live in increasing obedience to Scripture, which they will also have a greater hunger for. One would not expect everyone who was part of the Asbury event to repent, but certainly one would expect even more stories as time goes on of attendees repenting from sin. While I certainly can and do understand the strong emotional component of such an event, emotion in and of itself means next to nothing if it’s not accompanied by life change. For some, that could be very noticeable change, especially if they have just come to faith in Christ, while for others who were already Christians, the changes might be less noticeable, but no less significant.

Over Christmas, my wife received a book called A Theology of the Ordinary from a long-time friend. Julie Canlis, the author, writes about “a theology that values slow growth over dramatic change and the ‘ordinary’ as essential to our spiritual maturity.” Canlis quotes Michael Horton, who writes in his book Ordinary, “My concern is that the activist impulse at the heart of evangelicalism can put an enormous burden on people to do big things when what we need most right now is to do the ordinary things better.” Canlis goes on to write, “These modern conferences and movements give people an expectation that growth happens only when we are away from our local church, away from the people whom God has placed in our lives.” And here’s another quote from Samuel Sey, the writer for the Christian Post: “It’s concerning, however, that so many of us are seemingly bored by ordinary worship at a local church that produces an extraordinary change in one’s soul.”

In 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12, the apostle Paul writes, “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.” Have you heard that at any conferences recently? Back in the late 1990s, most of what the Promise Keepers men’s movement encouraged men to do was very much in line with these two verses. However, many contemporary Christian conferences (especially ones geared toward youth) use fog machines, lights, and other special effects to supposedly heighten the attendees’ experience in large-group settings. In fact, at a church that my family and I used to be a part of, after a good-sized youthful contingent had attended such a conference, the church leadership decided to incorporate “fog” into the services. Essentially, the church was trying to duplicate the experience of those who had attended the conference. However, I am reminded here of John 3:8, where Jesus tells Nicodemus, “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” Thankfully, the use of fog did not last more than a few months.

When my son was 13 and my daughter 10, my wife and I took them to a Third World country for seven weeks during the summer. I had a short-term teaching contract, while my family was along “for the ride.” Our first Sunday there, we attended a small, informal gathering/service of American believers in a place that I suppose many Americans would consider dingy; it was not a church building, either. Our son told us later that he had really experienced the presence of the Lord then and there. My daughter had cried before we left the U.S. because she was going to miss the first month of the school year (she was in a year-round school), but as we were preparing to return to the U.S., she asked if we could stay there (in the Third World country) forever. Both of them practically begged us to go back there, so three summers later, we did it again. The Lord does not need services in “church buildings,” and certainly not fog machines, to do His work in human hearts. “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.” (Matthew 18:20)

Here’s a question we all need to ask ourselves: When we attend Christian conferences or similar events, what happens when we return home? Do we come away from them refreshed, even more ready to live in loving obedience to the Lord through serving others in “ordinary” daily life, or do we focus more on the admittedly wonderful experience, already looking ahead to the next one? For the Asbury students (and others) who were part of the 13-day event, will their lives change? Will some stop “living in sin?” Will others rededicate themselves to living for the Lord in more “ordinary” ways? If so, then the Lord will have done His work in the hearts of at least some of the attendees–some would say because of the event, while others would say in spite of it.