I am wrapping up Russell Moore’s book, Losing Our Religion and if there are two places I would copy and keep near me at all times, it would be the section where he talked about the need to make peace with homelessness and the conclusion to the book. Moore is a Southern Baptist to the core, so YES the conclusion is very much an altar call.

And being the cradle Pentecostal/fundamentalist that I am… I’m walking the aisle.

It’s not the same aisle as before. I don’t want nostalgia.

In the movie, The Jesus Revolution, the main character played by Kelsey Grammar (Chuck Smith) has to go through a transformation in his thinking as a pastor. He is repulsed by the the hippies invading his home and church at first. Then, the Lord does a work in him and he embraces the movement of the Spirit going on among that group of very smelly people.

I know what people my age and little older felt seeing that transformation: we would be the same. Or, we would HOPE we would be the same. But we would say that in Chuck’s context: hippies.

That is nostalgia.

The people Jesus would send our way today wouldn’t be hippies. That’s too “in” now. He would send us people from the LGBTQ community.

That is revival.

In times of upheaval and threat, we want the “old ways” back. We sing the old songs. We want America to be great again (in the style of the 1950s, of course).

I’m not walking the nostalgia aisle. The Kingdom of God doesn’t walk that aisle. I need revival… and I trust Jesus to show me the way.

I’ve spent the last number of posts rehashing Moore’s book and rehashing some old hurts. Those hurts are real. The scars are there as evidence.

But, like Moore, there is an acknowledgement of what went right as well.

Moore writes this in the conclusion about his Southern Baptist upbringing (which does ring true for me as well):

Much of what they told me wasn’t true… Much of what they assumed turned out to be, just what I feared, a mixture of southern honor culture, American patriotism, Republican politics, white racial backlash, and on and on. If I don’t face that squarely, I cannot be honest with myself or with you.

But everything they told me about Jesus was true. (p. 250)

When I heard that the first time on Audible, I burst into tears. When I read it again in the book, I burst into tears. When I just typed it… I burst into tears.

Everything they told me about Jesus was true.

I lived in a mixture of racial tension, legalism, Republican talking points, and nationalism. I get it.

And in the midst of all that mix, I still found Jesus. They had pointed to HIM along the way… and I saw him. The other stuff became tough for me. The cognitive dissonance set in while I was in college and I began to sort through a lot of stuff.

But Jesus? I could see him. I could hear him. I could know him. And I wasn’t letting go.

They told me of the faithfulness of Jesus, and I’ve known that to be true. They told me of his power, and I’ve seen it in my own life. They told me of his love, and I have known it.

Everything they told me about Jesus was true.

OH, I am so grateful!

Moore says this in quoting Frederick Buechner:

A Christian is one who points at Christ and says, ‘I can’t prove a thing, but there’s something about his eyes and his voice. There’s something about the way he carries his head, his hands. The way he carries his cross. The way he carries me. (p. 250)

It’s true. The Gospel stories are true. I can’t “solve” the mystery, but I lean into living in the mystery.

Moore quotes another hymn he will have played at his funeral, but I want this hymn to be played:

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father
There is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be

Great is Thy faithfulness
Great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

He is faithful. I can only point the way.