The Revival and After the Revival – Chapter XV

There is something almost pitiable in the group of young disciples—”fruits of the recent revival”—that one sees now and then standing at the close of a service in the church, about the altar, the aisles, and the doorway. They wait for the friendly greeting, the serious question about the soul’s health, the congratulatory look, and the word of exhortation that they have come to expect as the meeting has gone on. In fact, so much of this “recognition” and “encouragement” has made them feel like “seekers,” “converts,” and “young church members” who are very important. Their eyes and eager smiles show that they can’t get enough of the warm greetings that the older saints gave them at the end of every service during the revival.

But a change has taken place. It came on gradually. The revival is over. The freshet has subsided. The waters creep along in the old channels. The “brethren” and “sisters” are at the water’s edge again. The converts, dear souls, still linger along the high-water marks—dry though the shores are—and few are the friends that stay in the high places. They look for the old roll and rush of waves in the old places. But their efforts seem in vain. The river is down there. As compared with the flood-tide, it is not much of a river—not broad, not deep, not swift, not noisy—now; and so, left alone, the young sailors who started out recently for the voyage to the heavenly harbor either drop down among the now steady and easy-going Church people or they climb up the deserted banks and go off slowly, but with increasing satisfaction, into the dry, dusty, and busy world again. They may sing the old songs occasionally. They may go back at regular intervals to the riverside for service and sermons and be sociable, for they “belong to the church” since the revival and must “be on hand.” But their hearts and companions are up over the hill, and the church does not seem to care half as much for them as it did before. They will, however, care for souls again next winter.

They will once again care for young converts caught in the next flood tide.

What shall be done for these young and teachable souls who, by their revival power, have come into our hands?

This question is even more important because of the serious facts that come to us from many places where revivals were successful in the past, both east and west, in the early and late years of Methodism. The wise men come to different conclusions. A distinguished divine, occupying a high official position in the Church, and a man of great experience, said to me the other day, “Methodism has never recovered from the ill-effects of the John Newland Maffitt revivals of many years ago.” I do not repeat this expression to endorse it. I am not sufficiently conversant with the facts to give an opinion; but there are wise and godly men, loving the church devotedly and making steady self-sacrifice through the decades for its advancement, who honestly believe that many so-called “great revivals” have been followed by reactions and that there have come after such periods of barrenness and disaster to the church. And all this may not be urged as an argument against the revival effort or against the revivalist who is the center of the movement, but it speaks with burning words of warning and exhortation. It alerts everyone to the possibility that, in addition to the special efforts, a normal, healthy, progressive work of grace will cease.

By J. H. VINCENT

Updated 2023 Nathan Zipfel

The Revival and After the Revival – Chapter XV. 

There is something almost pitiable in the group of young disciples—”fruits of the recent revival”—that one sees now and then standing at the close of a service in the church, about the altar, the aisles, and the doorway. They wait for the friendly greeting, the serious question about the soul’s health, the congratulatory look, and the word of exhortation that they have come to expect as the meeting has gone on. In fact, so much of this “recognition” and “encouragement” has made them feel like “seekers,” “converts,” and “young church members” who are very important. Their eyes and eager smiles show that they can’t get enough of the warm greetings that the older saints gave them at the end of every service during the revival.

But a change has taken place. It came on gradually. The revival is over. The freshet has subsided. The waters creep along in the old channels. The “brethren” and “sisters” are at the water’s edge again. The converts, dear souls, still linger along the high-water marks—dry though the shores are—and few are the friends that stay in the high places. They look for the old roll and rush of waves in the old places. But their efforts seem in vain. The river is down there. As compared with the flood-tide, it is not much of a river—not broad, not deep, not swift, not noisy—now; and so, left alone, the young sailors who started out recently for the voyage to the heavenly harbor either drop down among the now steady and easy-going Church people or they climb up the deserted banks and go off slowly, but with increasing satisfaction, into the dry, dusty, and busy world again. They may sing the old songs occasionally. They may go back at regular intervals to the riverside for service and sermons and be sociable, for they “belong to the church” since the revival and must “be on hand.” But their hearts and companions are up over the hill, and the church does not seem to care half as much for them as it did before. They will, however, care for souls again next winter.

They will once again care for young converts caught in the next flood tide.

What shall be done for these young and teachable souls who, by their revival power, have come into our hands?

This question is even more important because of the serious facts that come to us from many places where revivals were successful in the past, both east and west, in the early and late years of Methodism. The wise men come to different conclusions. A distinguished divine, occupying a high official position in the Church, and a man of great experience, said to me the other day, “Methodism has never recovered from the ill-effects of the John Newland Maffitt revivals of many years ago.” I do not repeat this expression to endorse it. I am not sufficiently conversant with the facts to give an opinion; but there are wise and godly men, loving the church devotedly and making steady self-sacrifice through the decades for its advancement, who honestly believe that many so-called “great revivals” have been followed by reactions and that there have come after such periods of barrenness and disaster to the church. And all this may not be urged as an argument against the revival effort or against the revivalist who is the center of the movement, but it speaks with burning words of warning and exhortation. It alerts everyone to the possibility that, in addition to the special efforts, a normal, healthy, progressive work of grace will cease.

By J. H. VINCENT

Updated 2023 Nathan Zipfel