If you haven't heard (not sure that's possible at this point), Kentucky has been at the center of a global discussion the past few weeks. What began as a routine chapel service at Asbury University became an immeasurable phenomenon, with thousands flocking to Wilmore and countless others observing online. In addition to coverage from traditional media, social media was ablaze with the hashtag #AsburyRevival used over half a billion times. As for me, I shared my thoughts on my podcast ( Apple Podcasts | Spotify) and participated in a YouTube interview, and both of those conversations garnered more attention and feedback than my usual content.
Clearly, there is palpable intrigue surrounding what's been taking place here in Kentucky over the past few weeks, and I don't want to be cynical about that intrigue. It is okay to be excited and hopeful about whatever it is God is doing in Kentucky. And yet, at some point, we have no choice but to come down from the proverbial mountaintop and return to the ordinary demands of the Christian life. This transition from the glory to the ordinary is my concern for Kentucky Christianity. I don't wish to be a revival cynic, but nor do I want to be a revival addict. And it's the latter that concerns me the most in days to come.
We American Christians are addicted to the mountaintop. We have been discipled by cultural rhythms of instant gratification, excessive entertainment, constant stimulation, grandiose adventures, bigger, better, and more, more, more, says the American glutton. And then we impose these gluttonous demands upon the Christian life. But the problem is that the Christian life doesn't follow the path of American excess. Jesus says it follows a narrow, difficult, cruciform path.
It has been a blessed few weeks here in Kentucky. Thousands have basked in the presence of God's glory and love, as we unapologetically should. But we must resist what Peter sought to do when Jesus took him up a mountain to behold transfigured glory. Peter's instinct was to camp out on the mountain, but Jesus said no. They came down from the mountain, and tellingly Jesus immediately battles demonic forces.
What transpired at Asbury was amazing. A once-in-a-generation experience, it would seem. But there are principalities to battle. There is evil in Kentucky that needs confronting; injustice that needs justice; divisions that need reconciling; darkness that needs the light; lost who need to be found—there is so much work to do. And speaking candidly, the Kingdom work that proceeds from the past few weeks will itself determine the significance of what has transpired. Revivals are less sensational and more transformational; thus, the power of the mountaintop is found in its ability to transform the valley below.
This is why the launch of Christ for Kentucky coinciding with an outpouring of Christ in Kentucky excites me. How do we ensure this wasn't merely a three-week worship service void of any formational significance in Kentucky? I would argue that the aftermath of Asbury needs to be ordered around what we prioritize in our mission statement: a compelling public theology and a competent public strategy, all in service to the common good of the Commonwealth. Therefore, the best response I know to offer Asbury's outpouring is to simply continue the blog discussion we've been having introducing our ministry.
In this post, I wish to take a step back to explain the grander theological vision behind our organization. I think many evangelical Christians assume the Christian life is merely a personal relationship with Jesus with little social implications. The essence of cultural engagement is evangelizing non-Christians to likewise commit to a personal relationship with Jesus until we all get to escape this world and go to heaven someday. If that's your view of Christianity, then candidly, you will struggle to understand, much less support, Christ for Kentucky's work.
Christ for Kentucky is founded and motivated by the grand story of God's redemption of all of creation, and that is the story I want to explain. I will frame the discussion with three verses that speak to the story's beginning, climactic middle, and glorious finale.
Genesis 1:1, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth."
Colossians 1:20, "For in Jesus all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Jesus to reconcile to himself all things, whether in heaven or on earth."
Revelation 21:1, "Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth."
God creates heaven and earth, Jesus reconciles heaven and earth, all culminating in a new heaven and earth. This is the story a defines us and inspires us.
First, God created the heavens and the earth. The significance here is that originally heaven (God's space) and earth (our space) were together as one. Creator and creation, celestial and terrestrial, are united in perfect harmony. And within the terrestrial realm, God creates image bearers, unique icons of the Divine under a mandate to fill the earth and subdue it, exercising dominion on God's behalf. This dominion was not to be domination but rather a Godly rule yielding glory to the Creator and shalom to creation.
There is a misnomer that were it not for Adam and Eve's fall, we would have merely frolicked about Eden forevermore. That is not the case. God entrusted to us an unbridled creation full of limitless potential and essentially commissioned us to discover and develop creation as sub-creators. Advancement was the mandate: technology, art, business, education, engineering, music, commerce, and so forth. We would have constructed cities and communities with infrastructures, institutions, neighborhoods, and entertainment. Essentially, all that image bearers have been doing throughout our history of advancement but all in service to the glory of God and the good of creation.
But, of course, that is not what transpired. Image bearers rebelled against the God they image and plunged creation from its utopian origins into the dystopia of our own making. And because of this unrighteous dominion, there is now a severance of heaven and earth. God's holy space and our sinful space cannot coexist, and thus we are cast from God's presence into the ruin of human history. But not without hope.
The entirety of the Old Testament story is essentially misery and destruction interrupted by prophetic hope. Hope that God would do something to repair what we have done. Specifically, God would send someone, a Messiah, who would repair heaven and earth. This, of course, is Jesus. When you read the life of Jesus in the New Testament gospels, what you notice is an oasis of heaven on earth. Everything wrong is made right in His presence. But the ultimate wrong that needs to be made right would require more than his presence; it demands his sacrifice.
Therefore, the Messiah offers himself as the atoning bridge between heaven and earth. Heaven's judgment poured out on earth's sinfulness, landing upon a reconciling sacrifice hanging from a cross. Then comes the Messiah's burial, which didn't last long. Earth's cursed and barren ground gives birth to heaven's living hope. But the key to the story is that this hope is not a singular event but the first event of something greater. The resurrection of Jesus is described as a first fruit. Meaning, a resurrection harvest is on its way, a harvest that will one day cover all of fallen creation. Easter was the first day of a remade world. And that Easter campaign now belongs to the followers of the risen Jesus.
Remember, the second verse promised that through Jesus, God would reconcile all things in heaven and on earth. Elsewhere we are told that Jesus has entrusted to us this ministry of reconciliation. Jesus is reconciling heaven and earth, and our lives are the conduits of his reconciliation.
The Christian is re-claiming, re-deeming, re-covering, re-pairing—Christianity is "re" religion. Its heavenly promise is not something altogether new; its promise is re-new. And that renewal campaign is the Christian mission on earth. Yes, of course, that includes reconciling sinners to God through the salvation of Jesus, but brothers and sisters, you are a part of something even bigger. You are not just saving souls; you are saving the world! Generation after generation after generation of followers of Jesus embodying heaven on earth will yield the heavenly earth to which their lives point. Like our Savior before us, we too will be raised from the dead, and the world of our resurrection will be John's revelation when he declared, "then I saw a new heaven and a new earth."
That's the story where we find ourselves. That's the story the Christian labors to see come to pass until they themselves pass away. And that's the story behind the mission of Christ for Kentucky. I realize this may seem hopelessly idealistic and desperate for practicalities and applications. And this I will provide in the next blog post. But we mustn't rush to pragmatics. The theology behind our organization, the reason do what we do matters a lot. We are a small part of God's great redemption arc.
For Christ and Kentucky,
Robert