re·viv·al
/rəˈvīv(ə)l/
noun
- an improvement in the condition or strength of something
- a new production of an old play or similar work
- a reawakening of religious fervor, especially by means of a series of evangelistic meetings
- a restoration to bodily or mental vigor, to life or consciousness, or to sporting success
Imagine yourself standing in a huge hall in the Convention Center downtown with hundreds of other people, diverse in numerous ways (including age, race and sexual orientation), and from as far away as Latin America and the Caribbean, yet moving together as one, heads bopping up and down, hips swaying to a reggae-type sound, some with eyes closed.
You are singing ancient words in a new way. Your heart is pounding. Your spirit is soaring. You are energized by an electricity that is alive with purpose and meaning, yearning and hope.
And you are all there because somewhere, somehow, you’ve heard about a Truth Teller from Palestine who walked our planet Earth 2000 years ago; whose way of living and loving inspires you, here, in the 21st century, to dare to believe — despite anything and everything that rises up to challenge you, that breaks your heart, that keeps you up at night, that tempts you to despair — that our planet can heal. That our nation can heal. That our city can heal. That your loved one can heal. That you can heal.
That Revival is possible. Because nothing is impossible with God. “Without God, we cannot.” And/But: “Without us, God will not.”
This is what I, along with several of us from Redeemer, experienced at the recent “Festival for the Episcopal branch of the Jesus Movement” held at The Baltimore Convention Center over the past few days. Our own Presiding Bishop Michael Curry preached last Sunday night.
Below is the link to the video and transcript of his message. I commend it to you. And I invite you to imagine what it will it be like, and feel like, and look like … to be Revived.
Love,
Cristina