By Steve Flairty
Kentucky by Heart
A trip to and from the small town of Wilmore in the middle of the day generally finds little car traffic to navigate. But recently that changed a bit when, as many say, “God intervened in a special way.” That intervention, the story goes, drew students, townsfolk, and people far beyond Wilmore to come to this location for a special purpose. And at the community that includes the originally Methodist institutions of both Asbury University and Asbury Seminary, this isn’t the first time it has happened.
On Saturday morning, February 11, a friend, Rick Beach, informed me that a very public Christian religious “revival” of sorts had begun at Asbury. It started a few days earlier, on February 8, in a routine daily chapel service (normally held three mornings a week) when the service simply didn’t end. Rick said it looked to have staying power, drawing more people to the chapel daily after beginning the previous Wednesday—quite an unusual happening.
He suggested it might be a possible story for my column, and I agreed. I wondered… how often does something like this happen — and in such a small town? The event’s exposure, with the help of social media, was already beginning to spread around the country. Eyes were focusing with interest on a Kentucky community in Jessamine County that some might call, almost affectionately, a bit sleepy.
Intrigued, I headed over to Wilmore on Monday afternoon, a thirty-minute drive, to personally check out the happening. Though a person of faith, I must admit that I tend to be skeptical of such extra-long worship experiences “where the spirit moves” and often wonder if they might be simply “worked up” displays of emotion — simply because people want something special to happen. You know, like some of the Christian camps I attended as a youth, where 12-year-olds sometimes made lifetime vocational pledges to do missionary work in far off countries because their friend did. Yet, I gravitated toward the spot of excitement because I was curious, and I’ll elaborate on what I found.
But before I left, I interviewed Duncan Gardiner, in Versailles. I learned Duncan had visited the on-going event Saturday morning, mostly because he was curious, and also because he had some personal matters of prayer to share with those of like-minded faith. He noted a “real lack of pretentiousness” in the gathering and “saw no one on stage trying to ‘gin up’ emotion.” Duncan met with a prayer team member, spent time at the “kneeling bench,” and termed his time in the chapel “peaceful, with traditional songs played… and it was spontaneous.” Starting with a few hundred people at the outset, he said that the number had likely doubled in the hour and half he attended. He came away feeling positive, both for the overall spirit of the leadership and for how others ministered to him.
Arriving in Wilmore, I found a parking place about a quarter mile from the Hughes Chapel, a large and stately building standing in the middle of the university — the place where things were happening. But first, I made a special point to talk with Koby Miller, who directs a local community needs outreach center and a person I highly respect. Talking to Koby, I believe she best described the current renewal spirit as mainly about personal repentance and learning to be in tune with God’s desires for a more devout life, and that the process might create more unity and recognition for those who need to be reached.
In reflecting on so many outside the town who were coming to experience the happening, Koby said: “This generation needs to see a vibrant, active church, and sometimes you have to experience that in order to know how to lead it and cooperate with God in the process of becoming that. If it takes coming to Wilmore to do that, then let it be so because they go back to a church that needs it, too.”
So, after talking to Koby, I wanted to see if my impressions of the service in Hughes Chapel coincided with her and Duncan’s insights. I began walking across campus toward Hughes Chapel and soon introduced myself to two middle-aged women, Deana and Jerilyn, who were headed in the same direction. They described themselves as “two young ladies hungry for God,” and noted that they are uber drivers/missionaries who had just driven in from North Carolina to attend the service after hearing about it only the day before.
In the few minutes we walked together, I could see exuberance and a feeling of excitement in their body language as we approached the chapel. Jerilyn repeated a line she said she recently heard from a pastor: “A whole generation of thirsty people are drinking from a toilet.” My impression was that she was only half kidding, and that she truly believes that people are searching for meaning in the wrong places
I came upon the chapel steps and noticed dozens of people sitting around the wide concrete steps near the high columns that visually defined the rather large building. Many had Bibles—open and marked in and more marks were being made. Walking into the foyer, I saw a wide table with bottles of water, packs of snack crackers, and something resembling granola bars. A smartly dressed middle-aged woman greeted me with a smile while I overheard the sounds of worship going on behind the wall in the sanctuary. I asked if I might take pictures and make videos inside. Smiling broadly, she said it was fine and many others were doing so, too. (I later understood Asbury was discouraging live streaming as a distraction.)
Now in the service and amongst the throngs on the lower floor of the sanctuary, I maneuvered around the edges, taking pictures and videos from different spots. I saw several people leading on the stage, with one playing a guitar and another a piano. It was some sort of low-key Christian music is the way I’ll describe it. The guitarist shared positive words about God being in the midst of the gathering and blessing all there. Responses of affirming words continually came from the audience, with most standing.
At the front, many were gathered in prayer, their body language resonating intensity, but no sort of craziness. I noticed a wide age diversity around the sanctuary, with many of college age, but also many of advanced years and, surprisingly, lots of whom looked like pre-school children with their parents.
I saw nothing that appeared political in signage or clothing or words, and I counted that as a positive thing. Might I call it an “aura of innocence”?
From there, I took the steps upstairs and like below, there were few seats available. Many stood away from the wooden seats on the sides, perhaps as gestures of kindness to allow others to sit. I videoed the proceedings below from the higher level for about a half minute, trying to get as much of the crowd and their actions as possible. Then, as now when I look at the video, I saw individuals focused on the worship. As my friend Duncan mentioned earlier, I likewise saw no hint of pretentiousness, no sense of showtime or ego… just a bunch of people, over a thousand, who seemed to be reflecting on their own vulnerabilities and how they might live a better spiritual life in response to their God. That’s what I saw; that’s what I heard.
I spent a combined couple hours in the chapel and on the Asbury campus that Monday afternoon, then went home and throughout the past week read hours of attendees’ commentaries on social media, along with many articles written about the Asbury event. It pretty much corroborated the sense I received being there.
According to the Asbury web site, there have been eight “revivals” throughout its history, starting in 1905. This would be the ninth (though some have said they’re not sure yet about calling the current one a revival.)
As the week progressed and crowds increased and waited hours to get inside Hughes, participants coming to Wilmore included many from all parts of the United States, with reports of some coming outside the country. Overflow buildings screening the services opened on campus and other places, and it took on a life of its own… or as many might say, “God’s own.”
I asked Wilmore’s mayor, Harold Rainwater if there was something special about Wilmore that made such spiritual events happen. He recalled others, including the large one in 1970 that he attended. “I don’t think we’re (the town of Wilmore) any holier than anybody else, I just think there’s opportunities,” he said. “When you have ‘chapel’ three times a week, sometimes you have real dynamic people speak and they are lead by God to say something, and at certain times someone is subject to that—and maybe several ‘someones.’ I don’t think there’s any part of it being planned. They always start out in the chapel, and not as a series of revival meetings planned.”
Notably, while the gathering grew significantly in the days after I attended, it appears to have stayed consistent in some basic aspects. Here is a summary of my observations about the 2023 Asbury Revival:
• People took personal responsibility for their behavior and demonstrated a need to grow spiritually. Normally in a large gathering, one sees some boorish actions that turn others off. If that happened, I didn’t see those actions and I didn’t hear about them, either.
• The leadership at Asbury provided good communication and was nimble in reacting to the changing landscape. Who could have predicted such a sudden, massive change in the daily life of a small town and its institutions?
• Wilmore brought attention to the state of Kentucky and it was by most accounts very positive.
• The series of services and actions brought out the best in each of us and was a good (though not perfect) look for Christian faith practices—which often are attacked with derision in our society.
• Religion is sometimes a force for disunity. At the 2023 Asbury Revival, we saw much unity, with the key being humility of spirit. Perhaps it is a glimpse of hope for the world.
Asbury University has announced that the last public service will be held on Friday, February 22. Visit www.asbury.edu for further details.