Lately, I've been more conscious than ever, perhaps, that we are unable, apart from the work of the Holy Spirit, to see clearly our own spiritual condition. Intellectual knowledge alone is not sufficient to produce in us a contrite (broken, wounded, crushed) and humble (lowly) spirit. It is no wonder that, in this proud Age, not many people know anything about a contrite and humble spirit. But here's what God says about that:
For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. (Isaiah 57:15)
The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. (Psalm 34:18)
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. (Psalm 51:17)That we do not rightly perceive the offense of our sin, and that we do not acutely sense the ugliness and pain of sin, is a sign of just how callous we have become in our hearts. We are doubtless self-righteous in some measure; though we don't want to think that we are self-righteous.
Following, is an excerpt from an old book titled, By My Spirit, by Jonathan Goforth, who was among the great missionaries of his time (early 1900s), in Asia. He was privileged not only to witness but actually to be part of some of the most powerful Revival movements in modern history:
Dr. Walter Phillips, who was present at two of the meetings in Chinchow, writes:
"It was at Chinchow that I first came into contact with the Revival. Meetings had been going on there for a week, hence, I was ushered into the heart of things unprepared, and in candour, I must add, with a strong temperamental prejudice against 'revival hysterics' in every form, so that mine is at least an unbiased witness.
"At once, on entering the church, one was conscious of something unusual. The place was crowded to the door, and tense, reverent attention sat on every face. The very singing was vibrant with new joy and vigour.... The people knelt for prayer, silent at first, but soon one here and another there began to pray aloud. The voices grew and gathered volume and blended into a great wave of united supplication that swelled till it was almost a roar, and died down again into an undertone of weeping. Now I understood why the floor was so wet--it was wet with pools of tears! The very air seemed electric--I speak in all seriousness--and strange thrills coursed up and down one's body.
"Then above the sobbing, in strained, choking tones, a man began to make public confession. Words of mine will fail to describe the awe and terror and pity of these confessions. It was not so much the enormity of the sins confessed, or the depths of iniquity sounded, that shocked one.... It was the agony of the penitent, his groans and cries, and voice shaken with sobs; it was the sight of men forced to their feet, and, in spite of their struggles, impelled, as it seemed, to lay bare their hearts that moved one and brought the smarting tears to one's own eyes. Never have I experienced anything more heart-breaking, more nerve-wracking than the spectacle of those souls stripped naked before their fellows.
"So for hour after hour it went on, till the strain was almost more than the onlooker could bear. Now it was a big, strong farmer grovelling on the floor, smiting his head on the bare boards as he wailed unceasingly, "Lord! Lord!" Now a shrinking woman in a voice scarce above a whisper, now a wee laddie from the school, with the tears streaming down his piteous grimy little face, as he sobbed out: 'I cannot love my enemies. Last week I stole a farthing from my teacher. I am always fighting and cursing. I beseech the pastor, elder and deacons to pray for me.' And then again would swell that wonderful deep organ tone of united prayer. And ever as the prayer sank again the ear caught a dull undertone of quiet sobbing, of desperate entreaty from men and women, who, lost to their surroundings, were wrestling for peace."
The Christian community in Shinminfu had been terribly persecuted in the Boxer uprising of 1900. Fifty-four had suffered martyrdom. The ones who were left prepared a list, containing 250 names in all, of those who had taken part in the massacre. Some day, it was hoped, the way would be opened for them to wreak on these full and complete revenge.
The crisis was reached here on the afternoon of the fourth day. Again I had the feeling that I was a witness at a scene of judgment. After the meeting had continued for about three hours I pronounced the benediction. Immediately cries went up from all over the audience: "Please have pity on us and let the meeting go on. For days we haven't been able to sleep. And it will be just the same for another night if you don't give us a chance to get rid of our sin now."I would urge you to read and re-read the above passage, until that you begin to feel the reality, the pathos, of what happened in those meetings more than a century ago. In everything I've read about Revival, seldom have I ever come across such a moving description of the suffering and weight of conviction of sin, such as is above related. Though I've felt such piercing conviction in myself in time past, yet, I must confess, it seems so far removed in time as to be but a distant memory.
But reading Goforth's account of his experiences in Revival, has helped me to see that the real treasure, of Revival, is not whatever other experiences may be afforded after that obstacles of sin have been removed; but it is the putting away and purging the conscience of sin, by the help and the power of God's Spirit, in order that fellowship with God may be fully restored: that is the great treasure of heaven-sent Revival.
I now see more clearly that in order for us to receive God's Spirit in Revival power, we (at least, I) need to have a renewed appreciation of the awfulness of sin and of the awfulness of Christ's suffering for sin. I must be helped by God to see that the unspeakable agonies of Christ's tortuous death testifies of the horrific nature of sin, for which Christ suffered and died. I recognize that somewhere along the line my sensitivity to the offensiveness of sin has been dulled ~ notwithstanding, I sometimes weep, upon seeing scenes of brutality, and I am often appalled at hearing of some or another gross transgression.
But I want Revival, in my own life and family first of all. I want that brokenness and humility which I received in that time of my "first love," when I first came to Christ. I want that fear of God which causes me to walk so softly before the Lord that my every word and thought appears instantly in its true form, in the light of Christ's Presence with me. I want that tenderness of spirit which flows out in streams of love to others ~ yet will not compromise with any sin.
Will you, please, my dear Friends, pray for me?
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