The Asbury Outpouring: One Year Later
A reflection on what exactly was going on in Hughes Auditorium
A year ago, on February 8, 2023, a few students in Asbury University’s Hughes Auditorium did not want to leave worship after their regularly scheduled chapel service. They had a palpable sense that God was calling them to keep doing what they were doing, to remain in the presence of the Holy Spirit, and so, in obedience, they stayed and they worshiped.
Word spread, that perhaps something was happening. Students began returning to the auditorium. In a community that had been earnestly praying for revival for years, there began to be a sense that perhaps God was answering their hard-sought prayers.
First dozens came, then hundreds, then thousands, until for a few weeks the whole world was looking on and trying to understand why people would flock to a little town in Wilmore, Kentucky—no one famous was speaking or preaching, no big names were leading the event, no one was selling their wares—but thousands came, and waited in line, and stood on the lawn for hours, simply to be in the presence of where God might be.
I was one of those people.
I drove from my church in northern Kentucky to Wilmore on Monday, February 13th, after hearing about the chapel service that previous Wednesday that had not yet stopped. At the time my wife was pregnant with our third son; our congregation was in the midst of a difficult time of decision about disaffiliation from the United Methodist Church; it was hard to see what the next few months would bring, hard to see a hopeful way forward.
In the middle of that uncertainty, I stepped into Hughes Auditorium early that Monday morning, and throughout the day the crowd grew and grew. I remember voices rising and falling with the music, tears flowing from my and other’s eyes, a palpable longing in the room for glory, for heaven to break through every veil, for God to be all in all. At the center of the auditorium, at the heart of it all, were the words: Holiness Unto The Lord.
I can’t explain what was going on in that room, not with words, but I know that the Spirit was ministering to his people—I felt the Spirit prodding my bruised and tired heart, nudging it, healing it, like a parent gently waking up its child in the morning. Time to get up! The night is over, open the windows, it’s a beautiful day outside, there is work to be done.
I returned with my friend David that Wednesday, a fellow pastor, and at this point the crowds had begun to overwhelm the facilities. There were several overflow rooms, there were people kneeling and praying in the courtyard outside of Hughes, there was a line that stretched on and on of people waiting, waiting, waiting to be inside the auditorium, to be in the presence, of what? Everyone was still trying to figure it out. Glory? The beginning of a great awakening? Or something that maybe God had never done before?
At this point there were already revival critics. The academics and bloggers and influencers were coming, trying to bask in the light, a light that many had trouble understanding. Like the Grinch on top of Mount Crumpit, they looked down at the Whos in bafflement: the outpouring of the Holy Spirit came without the trappings of fame, it came without passionate preaching, it came without well-defined doctrine, it came without money and tickets, it came without a strategic plan, it came without lights and sleek presentation…and yet it came nonetheless, a seventeen-day stretch of prayer and praise and presence.
I don’t know how to explain what happened there (I was not privy to the important, tireless work of Asbury leadership, stewarding the outpouring behind the scenes) or how to evaluate its impact upon the Church or the culture. My hope is that the Asbury Outpouring will be seen not as a unique event, but as the beginning of what we expect to happen when Christians gather, a new (or rather, quite old1) template for what happens when people sincerely long for holiness.
All I do know is that my own heart grew, myself Grinch-like, at the sheer power of the gathering, and there was so much grace in knowing I was not alone in that. It was as if thousands of us, together, were re-discovering what Paul knew: that the gospel comes with power, or it doesn’t come at all (1 Cor 4:20). It was as if God wanted to gather the world’s eyes upon a single word, holiness, and lift that word up for all to see. Those who saw it, those pastors and students and leaders, old and young, the rising generations, the brave and faithful and obedient disciples, all of those who heeded its call and saw its beauty, how could we measure what God certainly did in our hearts and is right now doing through our lives and our ministries?
All I know is that I’ve seen, in the wake of the outpouring, a number of people in my own life wake up to the reality of God, in my church and beyond. I’ve seen people band together in small groups in a longing to become closer to Jesus. I’ve seen people who only wanted to know about God who now long to intimately know God (myself included in this). I’ve seen people hunger for a life of prayer. People have begun showing up at churches, seeking the only thing they haven’t tried yet to make sense of their life. I’ve been amazed at the rising generation, who are coming in droves to wherever they can find a community of real faith, where people genuinely want to worship and pray. I just last night saw three young women get baptized at the local chapter of Fellowship of Christian Athletes that our church hosts, one of many campus ministries seeing an increase in the number of students interested in a real and living faith in God. What’s beautiful about all this, too, is that none of it is a movement captured or controlled by any particular tradition, denomination, or leader—because God does not want anyone to boast. But certainly something is happening; it’s hard, as a pastor, to not sense a rumbling, a change underneath the surface, at the soul level, as people one by one become unsatisfied with what our world and our culture have to offer. As restless hearts seek for the only one who satisfies.
And so, a year later, I thank God for the anniversary of this moment in spiritual history. And I pray, with many others all over the world, that it is merely the beginning of a global movement, a template, a method, that will be repeated and renewed and experienced, for thousands and thousands more to find themselves found in the presence of the Lord, captivated and healed by holiness. Come, Lord Jesus. Come Holy Spirit. Come quickly!
Much thanks to the article in Firebrand that got me thinking about the anniversary: Is there a Method to Outpouring? Anniversary Reflections on the Asbury Outpouring by Kenny R. Johnston
I also have been thinking about the Asbury Outpouring because I finished a book my friend Austin Wofford wrote through Seedbed called Forged: Young Adults and the Renewal of the Church. It’s a wonderful read for anyone looking to think through how they might better reach Gen Z as a church. Austin and his wife Maddie are house planters in Lexington, KY, and Austin has a lot of good wisdom to share about reaching Gen Z for Jesus.
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Wesley’s words after the Methodist gathering at Fetter Lane:
Mr. Hall, Kinchin, Ingham, [George] Whitefield, Hutchings, and my brother Charles were present at our love feast in Fetter Lane, with about sixty of our brethren. About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we recovered a little from that awe and amazement at the presence of his majesty, we broke out with one voice, "We praise thee, O God; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord."
(from https://www.fetterlane.org/blog/what-happed-at-fetter-lane)