Why I no longer pray for the ‘good old days’ of revival

William P. Mackay, the Scottish doctor and Presbyterian minister, penned one of my favourite hymns.

It begins: ‘We praise thee, O God, for the Son of thy love’. However, it is the chorus’ anthemic appeal to God that most evangelicals probably remember, which goes:

Hallelujah! Thine the glory.
Hallelujah! Amen.
Hallelujah! Thine the glory.
Revive us again.

As a prayer for inward change, those lyrics are wonderful and, recently, I became fascinated with Dr Matt Lowe’s 2020 social science paper entitled Revivals and Social Order. In it, Lowe carefully examines ‘Annual Reports of the Inspectors of Constabulary’ before, during and after ‘the two-year Welsh Revival of 1904-5’.

He concludes that, despite church membership rapidly rising and then returning to its previous level by 1907, the revival ‘led to a reduction in aggregate crime by 5% to 12%, with this effect driven by much larger and persistent reductions in violent crime, and drunkenness.’

Lowe also notes that this reduction in crime was not uniform across all types of offences. For example, in contrast with the above statistics, when compared to England, drunkenness offences in Wales fell by as much as 46%. Also, in 1906, assaults fell by 12% and, in 1907, the more serious violent crime of felonious wounding fell by 51%.

Lowe attributes this relatively greater decline in drunkenness and violent crime to preaching emphasis: ‘Based on a qualitative analysis, Jones (2004) writes that sermons would rarely mention specific sins, with one exception: the sin of drunkenness. Religious revivals may then only change the behaviours that are emphasised from the pulpit, and not those secret sins that are ignored.’

It might even be argued that, during his missionary endeavours in Ephesus, Paul’s preaching emphasis similarly caused many to abandon their idolatrous practices. In fact, Demetrius says just this, while denouncing the apostle before his fellow silversmiths: ‘You know, my friends, that we receive a good income from this business. And you see and hear how this fellow Paul has convinced and led astray large numbers of people here in Ephesus and in practically the whole province of Asia. He says that gods made by human hands are no gods at all’ (Acts 19:26).

Yet, lest evangelicals be overtaken with nostalgic pride, Lowe highlights that immense social upheaval is often the overarching impetus behind revivals.

He explains that: ‘a great awakening occurs when a society finds that its behaviours have diverged so far from prevailing norms that people are unable to sustain the existing foundation of religious beliefs … In the first stage, individuals succumb to the stress of social change one by one, becoming psychologically or physically ill … In the second stage, the ‘period of cultural distortion’, people gradually conclude that their problems are not individual, but societal or institutional, with, for example, churches not offering a solution to the newly prevailing social order … [The] third stage involves the appearance of a prophet who undergoes a traumatic religious experience … In the final stages, these leaders attract new followers, particularly among the young.’

A prime example of this accompanying social upheaval is America’s ‘Third Great Awakening’ in 1859.

The Dutch Reformed Church in Lower Manhattan was declining numerically and, to reverse this, they asked missionary Jeremiah Lanphier to visit and regularly encourage church members. In September 1857, he rented a hall on Fulton Street and invited the public to regular prayer meetings.

Only six men turned up for Lanphier’s first meeting. Then, in October, the men began to meet for daily prayer.

During that time, firstly, the Bank of Philadelphia failed on 25 September and then, on 10 October, the stock market crashed. In the wake of the ensuing financial panic, people flocked to the prayer meetings. By April 1858, In New York City alone, 10,000 people were meeting for daily prayer.

In the run-up to the 1907 Revival, Wales also experienced immense cultural crisis, as nonconformist rural migrants reacted with righteous indignation against the anti-social behaviour that was prevalent in the industrialised South Wales counties in which they had settled.

Unsurprisingly, this social upheaval is often also associated with the impetus to join new religious movements, particularly among those seeking escape from the ill-effects of our modern consumer society.

I do not doubt those who attest to having been converted during such visitations. However, afterwards, the steep decline in church membership and overall inability to affect people’s personal mores and interpersonal behaviour makes me wonder whether revivalism is really the best way to evangelise our country.

‘Old time’ revivalism seems more prone to inculcate outward religious conformity than to effect inward change. In turn, that may be due to preachers emphasising certain sins which are more conspicuous than other.

However, as Paul did, surely it is better to proclaim ‘the whole counsel of God’. Indeed, that’s as good a reason as any other to no longer pray for the ‘good old days’ of revival.