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The Wednesday night before the revival rolled around, and the few people at church that night were treated to an exposition from the Gospel of Mark. Those who weren't there were treated to the sight of THE WORLD-TRAVELING EVANGELIST ALBERT CHAMBERLAIN'S BIG TENT REVIVAL rolling into town, housed in two trucks and an old bus with JESUS SAVES painted on the side in chartreuse letters two and a half feet high. Some curious parties followed the entourage outside the city limits and watched as the tent was raised and the chairs set up.
Brother Jim had ultimately decided to steer clear of the topic of the revival when it came to the pulpit, but he had to admit that curiosity was getting the better of him. Perhaps, he thought, he just might attend one of the meetings, just to get an idea of what to expect questions about. Purely research, you understand, and completely within his rights as pastor and as a preacher of the Word.
So Thursday night, he made his way with the others outside town to where the tent had been set up in a large meadow. He scanned the crowd as he came in. He recognized several of his own church members, some of whom looked down sheepishly as they caught sight of him. Across the tent, he saw Father Louis and Reverend Stanley. They weren't sitting together of course, but they were both there. They caught his eye, gave a "What can I say?" shrug and sat down. He found himself a chair toward the back, on the left, where he could make a quiet exit if it all proved too much for him.
At 7:00 p.m. sharp (well, at least he's punctual, thought Brother Jim), the World-Traveling Evangelist known as Albert Chamberlain hit the stage. And stage it was; no simple lectern or pulpit here. He had the whole stage to work with, save for two areas occupied by an organ and a set of bleachers, respectively. On the bleachers stood a choir of about twenty-five to thirty members. He also had a sound system that was so loud that Brother Jim still could have heard him even if he'd stayed home that night.
There was no prayer to start this revival off. No "Please bow your heads as we ask the Lord's blessing on this service." Uh-uh. Instead, Albert Chamberlain grabbed the microphone off the stand and shouted, "ARE YOU READY TO EXPERIENCE THE LORD TONIGHT?" He emphasized "Lord" so that it came out in three syllables: "Low-uh-duh!"
The choir and audience responded with a hearty scattering of YEAHs and AMENs. But that apparently wasn't enough for Mr. Chamberlain.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I SAID, ARE YOU READY TO EXPERIENCE THE LORD TONIGHT?!" Again with the three syllables.
This time, the response was loud and enthusiastic. Some whistles and applause were included with the previous response.
"I HOPE YOU CAME WITH EARS TO HEAR, EYES TO WITNESS, AND A VOICE FOR PRAISIN'! WE'RE GONNA GIVE THE DEVIL WHAT HE'S GOT COMIN' TO HIM, AND ALL THE GLORY IS GOIN' TO THE LORD! AMEN?"
The crowd responded with an enthusiastic "AMEN!"
Brother Jim rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long night.
From there, Chamberlain launched into his show, without ever actually giving anything close to a sermon. It was mainly a lot of “healings”, speaking in tongues, and audience participation. Occasionally, for no reason, he would call out with a "CAN I GET AN AMEN?" for something that he did not say. Brother Jim believed "amen" to be a response to a comment made or the end of a prayer. It was not to be used lightly.
The choir would periodically break into song; loud, long gospel songs that had the audience clapping along and occasionally joining in. These, too, were audience-participation oriented, rather than worshipful hymns. No "Sweet, Sweet Spirit" or "In the Garden" here.
Finally, just as it got to be too much and he was about to quietly sneak away, Chamberlain grabbed the microphone and spoke in an out-of-breath voice. "Can we all just take our seats for a moment?" Brother Jim was a bit surprised. He was beginning to wonder whether Chamberlain had a volume control.
The crowd took their seats, and the choir even shuffled off the bleachers and took a position to the side of the stage. Chamberlain patiently waited until everything was back in order until he spoke.
"Friends, we are all gathered here tonight for one reason and one reason only; and that is for the glory of the Lord. All of this – the healing, the speaking in heavenly tongues, the praise and worship, would be for naught if it weren't for the Lord God and His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ."
Amen, thought Brother Jim, in spite of himself. At last, the man said something that he agreed with.
"I am able to do all of this for the simple reason that the Lord has saved me, and because the Lord Jesus Christ gave his life in exchange for mine on a hill called Calvary. John 3:16 says 'For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' And we are all very blessed, and so unworthy, that God should love us that much."
Amen, Brother Jim thought again. Hallelujah.
"I would just like to take a few moments here to reflect on that fact. But also, the same Good Book that assures us that we can have everlasting life also assures us of eternal damnation if we do not accept that gift. Romans 6:23 tells us ‘the wages of sin is death. But...’, my friends, it goes on to say, ‘...but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord..’"
Brother Jim, who had been standing all this time near the back of the tent, quietly sat back down.
"I know that there are many here tonight who don't believe what I do. They think it's all a show, that the people I heal have been planted in the audience; that the 'speaking in tongues' part is gibberish. Maybe it is." And at this, it seemed to Brother Jim that Chamberlain was looking right at him.
A murmur passed through the crowd as people turned to look at each other.
"Maybe it is," Chamberlain repeated. "And maybe it isn't. But that's not the point. If I do not have the love of God in my heart, it doesn't mean a thing. For Saint Paul tells us: 'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge: and though I have all faith, so that I could move mountains, and have not love, I am nothing.'
"So, friends, all of this..." and here, he gave a broad gesture encompassing everything on the stage, "...all of this means nothing if I do not have the love of God in my heart. And it would all mean nothing if I did not tell you of the wonderful gift of salvation. Would you please bow your heads?"
And every head in the tent bowed, Brother Jim's included.
"Now, with every head bowed, and every eye closed, if you have never asked the Lord Jesus Christ to come into your heart and be your personal Lord and Savior, you can change that. Just repeat this prayer silently to yourself as I pray."
And here, he launched into a sinner's prayer; perfectly adequate in Brother Jim's opinion, though a little on the flowery side. He wasn't too sure how many of the younger people (or even some of the older people, for that matter) would use phrases like "forgive me my many transgressions" and "sanctify my heart", but it would do.
After this, the choir got back on the stage and sang a little longer, but the better part of the service was over. So Brother Jim quietly snuck out of the tent to make his way home. He had some things to think about.
Just as he reached the main road and was turning left to head back into town, a voice stopped him.
"Brother Jim?"
He turned, and there behind him was Tommy Wallace. Little Tommy Wallace, ten years old, the holy terror of the First Baptist Church Sunday School classes. All of little Tommy's teachers had interesting memories of disrupted classes, of Tommy crawling under the tables, and of Tommy punching the other little boys (and, when he was younger, some of the girls) when he thought they weren't looking.
And now, here he was, standing before him. But he didn't look like the same Tommy. He looked ... changed somehow.
"Yes, Tommy?"
"You came to the revival?"
"Well..." he fumbled for an answer and finally found one. "Yes. Y
es, I did."
"Pa said he didn't think you'd show up, on account of you don't agree with a lot of that stuff."
Brother Jim chuckled a little at that. "Well, that's true, Tommy. I didn't agree with a lot of it. But some of it I did agree with. I wish there had been more of that."
Tommy was silent for a moment. Then he spoke.
"Brother Jim?"
"Yes, Tommy?"
"I got saved in there tonight. I asked the Lord Jesus to come into my heart."
Brother Jim was speechless. Here was this little boy, who had sat in his services for eight years, hearing him put forth the same message that Chamberlain had, and finally the boy had responded. He didn't know whether to be happy that the boy had been saved, or upset that it hadn't been at one of his services.
But slowly and methodically the Lord spoke to him (as the Lord likes to do) and reminded him that sometimes one doesn't reap what he sows. Sometimes a seed is planted by one and the fruit is harvested by another. His sermons and the Sunday School lessons had played their part, but it took someone with a viewpoint he couldn't communicate to put it in a way where Tommy would respond.
And he was happy.
"Tommy, I am so glad for you. And I welcome you into the family of God as my brother." He felt like hugging the little boy, but he settled for a handshake. He stuck out his hand, and Tommy put his little hand into it.
A loud "AMEN" came from the tent.
"You'd better run along back to your Pa now."
"Okay, Brother Jim." Tommy turned and started to go.
"Hey, Tommy?" Brother Jim called.
Tommy turned. "Yes, sir?"
"See you in church on Sunday?"
The boy smiled. "You bet."
Brother Jim turned around and started back for home. From the back of his mind came the nagging question. Is Tommy really saved, or does he just think he's saved?
But this time, there was an answer, and he said it out loud.
"Well, I guess that's between him and God, isn't it?"